Creativity, Community, Connection

I'm inspired by my neighbor Marie. As far as I can see, she rises to any challenge with grace and good humor, but this one in particular strikes me as creative genius: You have a large but unknown number of cold, tired, hungry people and access only to what's in your own larder. Could you work a loaves and fishes miracle?  Marie does, with biscuits and gravy that are culinary works of art.

This post is about creativity and community that's probably familiar to many of you. And I hope you'll share your own experiences in the comments section below. But to get my thoughts in order, here's what led to the telling of this story about community.

As you may know, I live in a rural area with a small population scattered over a large geographic area. It's the type of place where firefighters and EMTs are all volunteers. My husband has served 25 years on a small department. Structure fires require assistance from neighboring departments.

Last night, as the temperature slipped toward zero, Bill was paged out to a structure fire in a neighboring jurisdiction. On his way out the door he promised to assign himself a job that wouldn't aggravate the back pain he's had since Saturday.

As he left, I was texting members of the our department auxiliary. Our newest member, Cindy, met me at the scene to pass out bottles of water, Gatorade and granola bars to firefighters. It was so cold, the Gatorade froze.

At midnight, Marie and Jonita were serving biscuits and gravy, sandwiches, cookies and coffee to firefighters from a table in the house next door to the fire scene. None of us knew the owner who graciously opened her home.

Many people from the community came together to take care of each other. One home was destroyed, but the people who lived there all got out. At this point, their story branches off, but my story about community continues -- online.

After leaving the fire scene last night, I went home and worked for a couple of hours.

First, I posted Lesson 1 for students registered in the Cross-Knit Looping eCourse. The roster includes both first-timers and returning students from across the U.S. and in Europe who share a fiber interest. But you know how it is: You learn who the dog lovers are, what other interests students share, whose life is complicated by medical concerns, who's planning an adventure. And you celebrate successes and discoveries together. In other words, it's a community.

Next, I posted a few pictures I took on the fire department's Facebook page. Many people in the community have a limited understanding of what volunteers firefighters do. Much of what they do isn't exciting and it's virtually invisible: Two hours of repacking hoses, emptying creek water from the tanker and refilling it with clean water, going to town to get replacement parts for couplings that broke in the cold. Firefighters don't do all that to get their pictures tagged on Facebook. But their spouses, cousins, neighbors and friends who are on Facebook are proud to share that those pictures with their friends (or Friends, in Facebook parlance). 

I see some of my neighbors more on Facebook than in real life. But you know what? I love that I can talk to someone I'm sitting next to about a picture of them I saw on Facebook. I love staying in touch with students who took fiber art workshops with me years ago. I love reconnecting with old friends from our canoe and kayak school days. I love keeping up with our godsons and a passel of kids who are interesting young adults now. And I love following the adventures of a group of women who became friends in a willow basketry class at Sievers lo, these many years ago. Those are the kind of friends who may not see each other for months or even years, then pick right up where we left off. That was true before Facebook. It's true with Facebook. And I'm sure it will be true After Facebook. I suspect it will be true after we're all just so much cosmic dust.

Because what connects us isn't digital. It's the community we built. Together.

As you may know, I'm taking an online course on e-learning and digital cultures. It doesn't start for a couple of weeks. So for now, I'm only guessing at how the course may impact my perception of "being human in the digital age," or how it might alter my approach to teaching online. Here's what I do know:

What connects us is the community, not the carrier. It's what we build together that makes a difference in our lives.

P.S. I would love to hear your stories of creativity, community and connection. Hit the Comments link below and say your piece. Thanks!

Taking A Breath

The summer fantasy of reading trashy novels at the beach while sipping something cool sounds fun, but everyone we know seems to keep a pretty fast pace during the summer.

In the whirlwind, there are magical moments. I was up with the birds on July 4, so took my morning mug (no trashy novel, though) to the Ridges on Washington Island. A pair of sandhill cranes objected to me walking all the way to Carlin's Point. It was getting hot anyway, so I headed back to Sievers to meet a friend for coffee before my class began.

When I left home a week ago yesterday to teach the 5-day Digital Fabric class at Sievers, there were at least two more posts I still wanted to write about the Willow Gathering at Decorah in June. But the pace of summer is what it is.

I got home Friday in time to do laundry so I'd have something clean to wear on Saturday. That's when our local Independence Day celebration was scheduled. The volunteer fire department's fundraiser at the festivities is a corn roast. They always need willing hands to cover while some of the guys are driving fire trucks in the parade.

 
Bill and I left those festivities in time to clean up and drive to Michigan for a wedding. This couple's ceremony and reception were absolutely beautiful, joyfully relaxed and fun for all ages. We visited with old friends, ate good food, watched kids play, and celebrated the union of two people with feet firmly on the ground and stars in their eyes.

Yesterday, about all I did was read the Sunday paper. But our friend Annie called to say she was attempting her first blueberry pie baked over an open fire in a cast iron dutch oven. The conversation around their campfire is always good, and her excellent pie just made it better.

Today I chased some dust bunnies around the house, cleaned the toilet, filled a book order, and chipped away at what piles up during the transition from one trip to the next. It's a few weeks before I leave to teach again. For now, I'm catching my breath and looking forward to getting back in the studio. And blissfully grateful to enjoy cooler weather and a quiet evening at home with Bill.

Life Lessons In Willow Green And Denim Blue

It was already a balmy 33 degrees when I got up this morning, so I don't expect last night's three-inch snowfall to last long. A few minutes ago, the sun came out. Before both the sun and the snow are gone, I wanted to capture the brilliant greens against the white snow. Then it got me thinking about another color -- denim blue.

First, the greens. Because of unseasonably warm weather this spring, I juggled my to-do list and harvested like a maniac last month before the willow could start to leaf out. But there's still plenty of willow standing. Some, like the one above, will be cut in June (or May, the way this year is going) and peeled for the bark I use in fabric dyeing.

In our area, trees are starting to leaf out now. That makes them really vulnerable to wet, heavy snow like this. But my willow was shedding snow and springing back upright as I snapped pictures. It's so resilient.

Willow is often used as a metaphor for resilience. I like to think a little of that characteristic attaches to the fabrics I dye with willow and passes along to the people who wears them.

Our ancient ancestors wore colors and patterns they deemed efficacious to creating desired outcomes, like good hunting, or the display of status. How different are we? In Wisconsin during football season, "Packer Friday" means you'll see green and gold on your bank teller, supermarket checker, and insurance agent. In politics, in the boardroom, in high school hallways, people use textiles and clothing to communicate who they are (or want to be) and what they think is important.

That's why I'll be wearing jeans on April 25. Denim Day is part of a nationwide campaign to prevent sexual violence.

Whether it's blue, green, pink, red, black, white, or rainbow colors, we all have clothing that makes a statement. Sometimes we wear things that let others know what we believe. Other times, we choose garments that remind us of what we can be.

What do you reach for?

Giving Thanks

With the clock ticking down toward Thanksgiving, Black Friday, and Cyber Monday, I've been pretty focused on getting listings added to my Etsy shop and getting ready for some family time. But I want to take a short time-out from all that to say something important:

Thank you! Thank you for reading. Thanks for your comments. Thanks for sharing your ideas and inspirations and even your frustrations, because those often lead to more ideas and inspirations.

I appreciate your interest in my wild notions about willow-dyed fabrics, your support of my quest to make looping and netting common again, and your enthusiasm for all things fibery.

Have a wonderful Thanksgiving. And if you decide to do a little online shopping over the holiday, please use coupon code 2REDTHREADS in my Etsy shop to get free shipping through Cyber Monday. I appreciate every purchase. But most of all, I appreciate each and every one of you.

I'm A Fan

While I have certain avid interests, I haven't really thought of myself as a "fan" since I took down my Bobby Sherman posters. But today you can picture me clutching the social media equivalent of an autograph book. Sievers now has a fan page on Facebook, and I am a fan.

Sievers is a fiber arts school on Washington Island, just off the peninsula of Door County in Wisconsin. I first went to Sievers as a student back in 1994 (or 93?) for a 5-day workshop in rib-style willow basketry with Jo Campbell-Amsler. The school been an important part of my life ever since.

Are you a Sievers Achiever, too? Or maybe you have a similar relationship with another school, or a guild or art center. I hope so. There's a synergy that kicks in when you work with other people in that type of environment. That kind of magic clings to you even after you all go your separate ways.


So today I celebrate my return to Fandom. I raise my Sievers mug in a toast to all the people and places where creativity and community thrive. May we make it always be so.

Fiber Friday Fun

River Run Center for the Arts in McNaughton, Wisconsin, is now hosting a once-a-month open studio session, and last week I got to be part of the fun. It was great to spend time with my friend Rhonda and see some of her recent work, and lovely to meet some new people. Most were needle felting, and there was some good-natured 12-needle embellisher envy going on. My thanks to owner Joan Molloy Slack for the invitation!

In rural areas like where I live and where River Run is located, it takes a bit of effort to create a community. It's hard to pop into a shop or coffee house on the spur of the moment to join a group. Online groups are fabulous, but it's very nice to get to know people who share your interests AND your time zone.

So I'd love to hear: What fiber communities do you belong to, and how do you create them? Hit the Comment button and share your thoughts, or email donnastitches[at]gmail.com.