Finding Inspiration in Conversation

You don't have to come away with an answer to come away with direction...

Last week I hung out with my friend Sandi Rosner for a bit. She lent me a gorgeous book from one of my absolute favorite designers and textile artists, Alabama Chanin’s founder, Natalie Chanin. If you aren’t familiar, you should be. Hers is a story that might be familiar to many women. Relationship, identity, and professional journeys all wadded up into a sort of yarn-barf-like ball until they sort themselves out through the magic of time and whatever kind of providence resonates for you.

Alabama Chanin has a very particular aesthetic - one rooted in layered stories and organic and nature-inspired shapes. I’m not a floral girlie, personally, but I absolutely love the essence of what she does.

I told Sandi I would send the book home with her that day, having done a cursory thumb-through, confirming my adoration of all things textured, textile, and tales. It wasn’t until I got home that I realized I’d actually left her book (a signed copy no less…) in the backseat of my car. I brought it into my house, texted to let Sandi know I’d inadvertently absconded with her tome, and flipped open the book to the first first page. Cripes - I’ll have you know I’ve not read a book cover-to-cover that fast in a VERY long time. It felt like affirmation. It felt like hanging out with a friend who is kindly reminding you of your own center by sharing her own stories. When I finished reading the book I put it down, then picked it up again. I went back through, looking at the pictures once again.

Every time I feel stuck - whether in business, or in personal matters, I ask for guidance. Mostly I’m asking the energy of the ether. Sometimes I’m asking ancestors. Sometimes I’m hollering into the vortex. Whatever the mode of inquiry, and whomever the intended recipient, I always know I’ll get an answer.

There was something in the work of Natalie Chanin that reminded me how much of what we’ve done, first as a yarn shop, then as dyers, and now still as dyers - but with a cabin studio that is an extension of the pure need for exploration and expression I know most makers and artists feel.

I started combing back through my artwork, our dye work, and through books that inspire me. I started stitching and swatching and experimenting. In the course of it I cut up some deadstock (new, but never sold) t-shirts we had from over a decade ago, and I pulled out one of the undyed organic cotton scarves we have. I haphazardly tied and sewed two spots on a piece of a white cotton t-shirt, and then shoved it into a small jar of the walnut ink I brewed (see this post). When I pulled it out, rinsed it, and let it dry, it looked like a bunch of nothing - until I turned it upside down. That’s when it became mountains, reflected in water, with the sun high overhead. Taking inspiration from Chanin, I backed it with orange, stitched a bit, and cut through some spots.

Working my way through things - with the help of hand dyeing and stitching.

All of this resulted in a scarf that became the basis for a great brainstorming session with my mom yesterday. I shared all of this with her - and felt such gratitude for being able to have the conversation with her, but also for having been able to begin putting the pieces of so many things together in a way that makes sense to me.

For all artists, makers, and creators - including my partner and co-owner, Sheri, and me - finding the thru-line can prove difficult at times. But when you begin to pay attention to what resonates with you - and what others who know you well notice in your work, and about you as a person - you can find those threads. Like the ones Natalie Chanin illuminates in her books.

In our studio we work with a wide range of materials, but we always come back to color. Wool is, of course, central, but it’s not singular. Like all of us who create, honoring all the parts strengthens the whole.

Here’s to YOU and all your many creative parts!

xoxo

Ladianne

WoolTribe