My grandmother taught me how to knit, and as stress mounted up in the wake of the pandemic I began to knit every night. The more I knit, I began to see the knitted pieces as part of a larger canvas and viewed them as safety nets that provided a loose, but comforting veil over at least some portions of an increasingly precarious world.
As I begin each piece, I know only the materials I will be using and I have a general idea of the colors, but I remain in the dark as to how it will culminate in composition and placement of materials. Essential to each piece is the tension created by the binding and connecting of the shapes with the knitted pieces. My knitting, fabric and upholstery cord are the materials I use. Collectively, these materials all of which are also used in sewing and are stereotypically affiliated with women, seemed to express both comfort and hope.
Working intuitively allows me the freedom to work without a preconceived vision of what the ending will be. This approach allows me to be in sync with a natural flow and rhythm, while leaving me open to constant inspiration, and endless possibilities, and to rely on
the inner resources that have made me who I am.