the maker observed

Hello dear readers,

Lately I am feeling the call of the algorithm. I suppose I have been feeling it since posting every day on the internet during my van search. So many people responded so well and helpfully to my call for help, either sending me van listings, supporting or resharing the raffle, and in some cases (unhelpfully) advising me that the ford transit connect is a stupid car to buy. Either way, it feels incredible to be in various styles of communication with many folks. If one thing is clear from my recent times of posting-a-lot-on-instagram-dot-com, it is a reaffirmation that everyone on this earth is creative and capable and doing really cool things in their little corners. So many people are and sharing as they go.

The process of making content is a practice in itself. It helps that my first hand, as Ann Hamilton would say, in art making was as a photographer from a very early age. I had a hand me down digital camera in the early 2000s that I would take all manner of artsy photographs on, teaching myself a visual language and composition. A moment of pride and affirmation on this path of becoming an artist was winning an honorable mention ribbon in the youth category in a photo show for a picture of foxglove I took at age 11.

I also have long yearned to make films of varying lengths. I took a filmmaking class in my final year of undergrad and had a great time. With every practice of mine, I tend to struggle with the ease of entry into the craft. Much of the capital-A artwork I make involves time in a screen shop, photo editing, digital archives, and in front of a light box. Video too often requires specialized equipment that is quite sensitive. Cameras, batteries, and tripods, susceptible to heat and cold. It requires more intention to organize, often a team. Though as with any practice, there are cheaper and easy ways in, I find video in particular is most difficult for me to access, particularly as it demands time on screens which I both seek like a moth and slink back from throughout the day.

I am drawn to spinning on a drop spindle and knitting because they are small and easily interruptible tasks that I can manage in public and social spaces without diverting too much of my attention (it helps that I have been knitting since age 9 thanks to grandma Joanne). Per Women’s Work, the reason making textiles has long been relegated to women is because of how easily these tasks lend themselves to the task of childrearing, that they are: interruptible, safe around small people, and able to managed along with other domestic tasks like cooking/foraging. These qualities also provide ease of access in the public sphere (within reason, though I have been known to bring a full quilt to the function). Fiber has always been available to me in grad classes, social settings, meetings, and dates. Something to occupy the hands and quiet the mind.

Filmmaking on the other hand cannot be done casually, or at least I have struggled to strike a balance with intentionality and the rest of my life. Whole films have been made with the iPhone and I do feel like there are lots of options! I also am inviting more long term projects including some music videos for the first Ah the World album. Being in a band and making music to put out into the world is just another reason to dip into the ecosystem of the internet!

The best way I have found to make content as a practice is just to prop my phone up for 3 minutes or so as I am doing a fiber craft and then chop it up. This means I am now inviting people in to observe my morning hour of quiet handwork. I’m not sure it is meant to be shared necessarily. My most basic hope in posting on the godforsaken internet is that viewers become inspired to cultivate and consider their own routines and the craft that they take up into their lives. It is a strange relationship I am trying to navigate. Human faces and voices on camera create a one-sided experience of cathexis inherently. We are social beings. I too have to remind myself I do not know someone just because they are talking to me through the portal. It is a constantly humbling process.

If I were to influence anyone, I would only want them to know that I am not special. Craft takes intention, material, tools, and most of all knowledge. Often the knowledge piece is the first step that is missing in people’s awareness. Yet craft is deeply necessary and possible way to work in the world.

I am noticing two opposing energies that are encapsulated in the inner turmoil of instagram posting. Consumption and creation are in a circling dual star relationship. My creative practice synthesizes the things I have consumed (media, living, music, archival information, research, anecdotes) into new formations and it is because I consume so much of the world that I have this heap of compost turned endlessly in my head.

Creative objects, ideas, writing, concepts then in turn are consumed as they enter back into the ether and world from whence they came. At any point in this food chain, the scale can tip into too much of either. Creation in a vacuum can quickly disconnect from the world (why the art of the rich and famous is so boring, in my opinion). On the other hand, overconsumption can create a feeling of having done something or learned something without the integration of the knowledge into one’s own hands.

Interested consumption is not bad at all. I had affirming experience a few months ago when I started to turn wood on a lathe. Because I had watched so many lathe turning videos on instagram dot com, I took to the craft so much quicker than I would have otherwise.

I hope I have cultivated a better balance in recent months. I have been watching very little TV and only the occasional film, listening more to long form audio like books rather than podcasts, and full albums rather than random playlists. I have also muscled my way out of being on instagram simply because there is too much on there and I get overwhelmed by the volume of it. Another key difference in recent months is that I no longer feel I need to escape my own life.

Always my impulse (which became muscle memory) in opening the instagram app was to connect or the be inspired. I began to ask myself, “What am I seeking on here this time?” The answer was often a feeling of humanness. How strange, like going into the mines looking for sunlight. In inviting myself into a gentle noticing of my needs I have started to meet them more head on.

If I am seeking inspiration or information, I do some research or one of my favorite hobbies which is reading Wikipedia pages and following where they link out to. I also do this IRL with my collection of encyclopedias from 1945 but it is more accessible on the phone of course. If it is connection I am seeking, I try to go into the agora (the same 3-4 places in this small town where I am sure to run into at least 5 people I know at any given time) or call someone to check in. These modes are not foolproof and I certainly spend a lot of time on instagram dot com still. It is simply a practice of noticing that I work on sharpening every day.

I am in a very open and abundant time in my life and feel called to share a lot of my work and life widely. I have been so heartened to connect with many people on instagram who are doing wonderful land and fiber work in their own little corners of the world. In essence, this is the opportunity that social media was supposed to be about. Not ads, AI slop, agitprop, and looksmaxxing. Instead, the early internet was a node of social connection, mimicking mycelial networks and spiderwebs. I often try to subvert the norms on instagram (to be a passive observer) and do so by reaching out directly to people in comments, DMs, with encouragement, questions, or trade proposals.

I also want to show off the hard work of people in my community, my friends, and loved ones. The internet of today is such a one-sided portal. I am letting you peer in at me as I write this at my desk in my studio, a view which is commonly featured on my instagram page. It is one thing to show my space and very much a different beast to invite that viewership indirectly. As with many things, consent is important to ask and honor. I am doing my best to walk the sticky line of privacy in this weird digital age.

I anticipate this continued conversation with the writers and photographers in my life as I undertake the next leg of my research on craft ecology. So much of this work is related to oral tradition, fieldwork, and conversation which requires other people to trust me and share their processes. I take this ongoing process very seriously, it extends to many realms of my work.

Until next time,