Over the past several years, my relationship with making has had to change. I have lived through surgeries, injuries, a car accident, and ongoing physical pain. For someone who loves working with her hands, accepting physical limitations has not been easy.
There is a particular kind of heartache in wanting to make something by hand and realizing that your body cannot always keep up with your imagination.
Hand stitching has always been deeply meaningful to me. I love its rhythm, its precision, and the direct connection between my hands and the object I am making. But I am also learning to slow down.
I am beginning to incorporate a sewing machine where it makes sense, while continuing to use handwork where it matters most to me. I don’t see that as abandoning craftsmanship. I see it as allowing my practice to evolve so that I can continue making for a long time.
Unexpectedly, those limitations opened another door. They pushed me toward teaching.
Teaching gives me room to stay close to the craft without measuring my value only by how many hours my hands can stitch. It gives me space to think, experiment, solve problems, and pass along what years at the workbench have taught me.
It gives me space to be creative, honest, and meaningful.