I read this post that pretty much speaks my mind about why we want to create things with our own hands, about what creativity is, and I am sharing it here with you.
It's a marvel, really - each time I walk somewhere I see something for the first time - a mushroom hidden under a shrub, a lace-wrapped tree, a totally convincing yarn hydrangea, paper butterflies on a wall, miles (I swear) of knitted icord from tree to tree. And every once in a while, in my mind, I take a little step back out of the woods we're in, and the world in which knitted mushrooms are totally and completely expected, and wonder....why?
Why would someone spend their precious time knitting a mushroom to only stick it under a shrub in the middle of woods, in hopes that someone else might discover it and smile? Or spend a day in a room full of strangers stamping linen and learning a new way to sew a bag? Or dive into something they've never done before, on a lark, on a hope that maybe basketweaving would be what they love.
The answer, of course, is different for all of us, and maybe even different on any given day, or hour of our lives. Why do we make things by hand? We do it because we believe it to be the right way to live. Or we do it because it connects us to our past. We do it because it brings us closer to the natural world where the materials come from. We do it to infuse the material things we keep around ourselves with soul and spirit. We do it to love the ones closest to us. We do it to soothe ourselves. We do it because it's fun. We do it because beauty matters. We do it...because it's what we do.
There's an incredible amount of faith in the making of things, isn't there? Even the most practical and logical of makers among us have to have a bit of faith, and hope to get started. And that? That, I think, is the thing that most connects us as makers. Like miles of icord strung from tree to tree.