A Single Thread, A Thousand Knots
Like the fabled threads of fate, our signature lacework begins as a single thread. Each work is sovereign in its own story, woven slowly, with care, one stitch at a time. We do not rush. We do not waste. We allow these stories time to to become what they are truly meant to be, just as we must also allow ourselves time to fully become who we are. To create in this way is a language that only human hands can speak, and only the soul can read.
A Legacy of Lace
Click, click, click.
My grandmother sits on the couch, fingers dancing rapidly, a web of symmetry and pattern emerging from the thread spread between her fingers as I watch, fascinated.
What are you doing?
I am nine years old, and just beginning to understand that the world is both too large and too small and I don’t fit. My friends talk about crushes and their perfect wedding. I help them dream up their wedding dress. They ask for Tamagotchis and Beanie Babies for Christmas. I ask for cross stitch kits and the good colored pencils. I haven’t figured out yet all the ways in which my edges grate against the curves of the world. But it lingers like smoke in the air; a hint of something about to catch fire.
I’m making lace.
I think she knew even then, all those years ago, that I was different. Quieter. Sharper. Curiouser. She didn’t lecture me about how this was a craft that had been passed down from generation to generation in our family. That it was tradition to learn, and now it was my turn. She just sat there, quiet except for the click of her shuttle, and waited for me to ask.
Can I try?
Now, my fingers dance rapidly as I make lace. Stories in pattern and symmetry, flowing from my hands before I even fully understand what it is I’m making. Taking the sharp ache of love, the sweet release of pain, all the good and bad of life, and giving it shape. It’s alchemy. It’s magic.
I don’t have to try and fit the world. I can make a world that fits me.
Can I weave your story?
