“An invisible red thread connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, and circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but it will never break.”
…So the ancient Chinese proverb goes…
I always include at least a little bit of red thread in anything I sew. I’m attracted to the act of doing it — it’s my very own spirit line, my mark, if you will. Maybe I’m trying to connect the pieces of my own soul together —as Louise Bourgeois said, “the act of sewing is a process of emotional repair,” — or maybe it’s a reminder that we are all connected, that there is no beginning and no end.
The art of making is an indelible part of my vitality, my health, my history, and ultimately my wholeness. I can’t imagine life without a needle and thread and some fabric through which to pull both, without a ball of yarn and a hook, without pens and pencils — when I leave this earth someone will have to deal with the stockpile of handmade garments and an ever growing pile of scraps waiting to be fashioned into whatever they can be, because I’m quite sure I’ll never quit fiddling around with this or that malleable material and I’m also quite sure I’ll never get to everything that’s in my mind that I want to create. Life is an artwork, but it’s one that is always in progress, isn’t it?
I’ll never stop hearing my Mama whisper, “We could make that,” when I see something charming that has clearly been whipped up in a few minutes in a shop. I imagine there’s a red thread between her and me, and never more so when I’m quiet, when I sit down to put on a button or make the first stitch in a new project. My parents were makers, and so I am. I’m grateful for the way they showed me that the most useful and handiest hand is the one at the end of my arm. I’m grateful for my hands, and that they want to be busy and of service, connecting pieces of tangible things, and thereby somehow connecting my own sometimes seemingly disparate parts. The red thread runs through me, as it runs through us all.
Peace and love and happy Wednesday,