craftivism: wee, yet mighty!

but is it art? (who cares?)

As I'm currently in the process of applying for research programmes, PhDs and scholarships (at the last possible minute), it's been a bit slow of late. I also no longer have email at my house, which means that I haven't been answering my email for the past two weeks.

But I promise that soon enough I will reveal the ridiculousness that was my first 'art' (don't call it 'craft!') piece, unleashed to the public March 18th. On a wall, not a scarf around someone's neck.

If you're feeling antsy about what's currently inspiring to me in the world of craft, check out :

*Knitted Hyperbolic Space, A Gallery of Hyperbolic Models, and an article about crocheting the hyperbolic plane. (Many thanks to Maddie for the links!)

*the knerdy reading that is knitknit

*the 'i wish i was born in the '30s' joy that is Designing Britain 1945-1975

*the amazing and inspiring work of Germaine Koh

*i heart Freddie Robins

*the happy quirkiness that is the work of Deirdre Nelson

And that's (happily) only the beginning of what's out there.

excuse me, while i interrupt...

It's amazing how much time flies by when you're doing nothing but working on an 'art piece' and constantly having an internal dialogue with yourself regarding the whole 'art vs. craft' melee.

And it's funny how when you start making things with your hands, you stop checking email, turn off the television, turn up the stereo, and start thinking more in images than in words.

This week has totally made me realise how my grandmother's grandmother's hands must have ached after having to make xx number of stockings/sweaters/socks in order to put food on the table. And how despite the fact that we are lucky enough to live in an age where clothing is provided for cheap and in close proximity, that there is nothing more rad than holding something you constructed with your own two hands- especially something that you could have bought at the local megamart.

And back to working...

small things.

Tonight I was talking with someone who was in Sri Lanka during the tsunami. She was talking about how the woman she was with is now suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Luckily, she is American and has a hefty support network.

But for those who don't, there's a little project out there called The Tsunami Quilt. Although the deadline for contributions has already passed, it's a perfect example of how you can put your crafty and artistic talents to good use.

Happily, there are loads of photographs here.

I'm not suggesting that the efforts of one quilt are going to counteract all the damage that was done last December. But noting that sometimes when things seem so huge and like you can't do anything to help, you can.

Hooray for tiny altruistic acts.

never enough color.

This is a hastily-taken photo near the Kingsland Road in Hackney, one of the neighborhoods on the tip of gentrification in east London.

The juxtaposition of the new bar next to shutters with awkward graffiti, the old Victorian buildings with varying architecture and the all-black clad hipsters on the street make me conjure up the smell of smog.

And make me want to strew skeins of yarn throughout the streets to bring color into the bland urban landscape.

down with irony!

Lately I've been seriously entertaining the idea of persuing my PhD in either cultural anthropology/sociology/cultural studies.

I want to have the chance to research the issues surrounding craft, domesticity and modernity from a historical perspective in order to figure out what is happening in the present.

Because on the one hand, it seems like it's just about the teeny tiny world of craft and the current resurgence, but when you look at the other, there's a whole wealth of history holding up the present pillar. Crafts have been something that humans have always done, given a bit of free time and spare materials.

Sometimes I worry that women my grandmother's age view this current re-interest in crafts as just a trend based on irony. Lately I've become sick of irony, and how irony has become the cornerstone of our wardrobes, leisure time and vocabulary. I can't tell you how refreshing it is to actually meet people who are real. And who have genuine interest in things, and genuine passion for it.

There is nothing I love more than when I am crafting in public and someone my grandmother's age comes over and tells me stories about how she (or he!) used to knit/crochet/embroider. I want them to teach me all the skills they have learned before the current upswing where every town had numerous knitting circles. I am craving learning those skills that are passed down from generation to generation not passed down via printed pages on a book.

In researching knitting for various projects over the past few years, that's what I have come to be most endeared by. The lack of pretension, the eagerness to share and communicate and the pure love of the craft. And no, I don't think that irony is something just in the world of craft, in the past few years it's inundated more than a few facets in my life.

I just want to return to the real.

Oh, and speaking of the 'real,' there's nothing better at making you feel more connected locally if you volunteer! So go see who needs your help in your area, thanks to volunteermatch.org!

tandem.

Sometimes I wonder, am I the only one that ponders about the connection between craft and academics?

Or is it just a complete flight of fancy?

Despite all the different theories I have that may or may not be valid, I still am in awe of the way that even the simplest knitted piece of cloth can hold such a sense of beauty.

Nothing fancy or complicated, just knit one row, purl the next, held up to the light.

And how amazingly similiar to a generalized plant cell at 200x magnification.

And sometimes there's nothing more beautiful than simple.

Or maybe I'm just a weirdo for seeing the connection.