I didn’t start this year with many resolutions or goals. But I did make an active decision to turn my recent attempts to try to learn new crafting skills into an annual tradition. Over the past little while, I’ve tried to teach my hands to do something new every year whether that’s an intro to throwing pottery on a wheel, carving jewellery from wax, screen printing, or woodcarving. This year I’m going to, hopefully, learn how to weave.
I’ve gained so much through dedicating time to crafting. As someone who spends most of their day on the computer, whether that’s in the office or illustrating digitally, I think I need to make the effort to remember that my hands can do more than just make pixels appear on a screen. That’s probably why I love cooking and DIY too.
So I wanted to try to articulate that love of making and create something of a manifesto for making to try and get more people relearning how to use their hands with me.
Let’s start at the end and unravel the experience together.
Using the thing
Whenever you use something you’ve made with your own two hands, you get to relive the joy of its creation. Every wobble and groove tells a story. I have a set of wonky little bowls, which are more tiny trays because they’re so shallow, that I would never find a use for if I’d bought them. But every time I have a snack I want to put them in my little bowl because I made it.
A finished thing
After a few ugly stages, there’s always a magical moment when you’re making something with your hands when you can see the final product start to appear. In that moment I like to look back to the materials I started with, whether that’s a round of wax that turned into a ring, a log that turned into a spoon, some yarn that turned into a tapestry, some clay that turned into a bowl, and reflect on the alchemy my hands have managed.
Making the thing
When people describe making as meditative, I don’t think they mean that they aren’t thinking about anything but rather that they’re using their whole mind to think about one thing. That kind of focus in the attention economy feels like an act of rebellion almost. You can’t be texting at the same time, whatever is in your hands has to be your primary focus. It’s slow and steady (unless you’re a speed knitter). It’s a respite from a fast paced digital world. Pulling screen prints is simple but there’s a careful balance of physical actions you need to focus on everytime you roll the weegie across the silk.
Learning the skill
When I went woodcarving we were given one simple mantra: the knife won’t do anything you don’t tell it to. That to me translated as, when you’re carving wood you have to mean it. You make a decision about where you’re trying to get to. Then you make a decision about what you want the next cut to do. Then you decide on the best technique to use. Then you do it, as decisively as you can.Those long, clean, curling shavings only happen when you know what you want to tell the wood and you say it clearly. I found a lot of mental respite in focusing on learning technique, on making those shavings and being a beginner.
Imagining
If there’s magic in seeing something appear out of raw materials through your hard work, there’s just as much magic in starting with nothing and just imagining what’s possible. It’s a conversation between you and the material. The first step into the world of making things bey hand is one you have to take together with the environment you’re in. I think that’s what I love the most about crafting, particularly outdoors. It reminds you that you’re part of the physical world and you have just as much ability to shape that world, to make it beautiful, purposeful, or fun, as anyone (or anything) else.
A manifesto
So that’s it, my manifesto for making. If you love to craft or haven’t made anything since you were in school, I’d love to hear from you and to hear about what you and your hands will make next. I’m always up for new crafting inspiration.
I still haven’t learned to knit and I’d love to try wood turning, because I had so much fun carving last year. But I’m taking it one skill at a time. I’ll keep you updated on my journey into weaving.
FYI I book all of my classes in London through Obby. If you’re interested in trying it out (it’s got all kinds of classes from crafters across the city), you can get £10 off your first class. This isn’t sponsored, it’s just a super useful service, but that is my referral code.
