I have been stitching pieces of fabric together into almost living creatures. They are alive by all meanings of the imagination. If that makes any sense. Those creatures will enter people’s lives, and hopefully touch their hearts and create tidings. There is more than cloth and stuffing; there is me. A piece of me is going with them. That makes me somehow omniscient and omnipresent, like God. We spread ourselves around when we gift something we’ve created. Art, food, experiences. In return people will create tidings with me, with the friend who gave some of the fabric, and my mom, who also gave me some materials. The same goes for Mary, who gave me the Bernina sewing machine, and the mechanic who serviced it, and the manufacturer of the oil, thread, needles... We are anything in this world but alone.
A friend of mine swore that by a third person we all know each other and he believed this as firmly as the lines on his hands. I think there is some truth in it. I have a friend who’s third cousin is Paul McCartney, so, I know Paul, although I have never met him in person. I haven't been to Africa, but I have heard many stories by people who have; I feel I’ve been there and seen majestic elephants walking through the camp site in the middle of the night. You might never jump in the deep sea with four sperm whales, either because you are afraid to do it or because you haven’t have the opportunity, but I’ve done it and you are living it through me.
Having an experience someone told you is incarnating another life or embodying someone else. It sounds creepy, but it’s the way we have lived for centuries. We were not all born to be explorers, but we love to see our heroes return and hear about their adventures and mishaps. We still do that when we watch a documentary or a post in social media. I have become addicted to Instagram and Pinterest; that’s my news paper in the morning over my cup of tea. I want to see what people are creating and what the world is fueling on, I too refuel with it. When I finally put my iPhone down to start my day, I feel like nothing I’m going to do is as meaningful or interesting as what I had just seen. I start breakfast and although I don’t have the screen in front of me anymore, the images keep scrolling around in my mind. I feel totally isolated, invisible. But when I go back to my crafting room the story I’m creating revives. I rejoin with my inner self and I remember what I was working on and the meaning of life.
What in the world is the meaning of life? A spiderweb that ties present and past; people and pets, sorrows, wishes, wants, needs? Growing up is probably our most important career, but we still believe that going to college is what will make us mature, successful, rich, desirable. Then what? We are all full of frustrations, mainly because we suppress ourselves, so others won’t do it and by consequence hurt our feelings and destroy our self-esteem. Especially women. I never understood why everything is harder on women: health, school, family. Even parents have higher expectations on their daughters or even worse: lower expectations.
Creating something is like exiting the world to enter in a state of absolute peace. This is a world in which everything is possible: acceptance, respect, love, peace. Fantasy and reality become one. We are not alone anymore, because in that state we can all meet and hold hands and dance around the flower circle. We can even visit the universe inside our eyes and discover that we don’t need to break the Earth's atmosphere to go to the moon or explore space. Maybe one day we’ll realize that what we are so desperately looking for out there, is right here, within.
When I show my work to people I’m really showing them who I am. It has been said, “Some things speak louder than words”. Our hands reflect our souls. My display is not to be admired, but to be read. Can you read me through the eyes of the creatures I’ve created. Stitch after stitch with a story, an intention; acknowledging the millions of people behind my work. I’m just the last link of a long chain giving birth to art. The next link is you. Now, close your eyes, come visit the places I’ve been to in my mind, and all the other words that haven’t been heard yet. We can discover them together.
Anechymade