I will admit to a certain fascination with elevator pitches. How do you define what you do, your vision, what makes you get out of bed and do your creative act in a handful of words?
It's easy to write a thumbnail bio. You know what will resonate with your audience--cum laude graduate from Yale; Pulitzer Prize winner; mother of five, one with autism. But when you ask yourself the hard questions--why DO I knit enormous swaths of lace? What am I trying to communicate from the non-verbal side of my head? Now say it out loud.
I don't intend at this moment to make my living knitting. I don't enjoy the sacrifices one makes for speed and novelty. When it's common to have a design accepted at last, then get three weeks to resize the design for XS to XXL and knit two samples in the yarn the manufacturer is huckstering (because what you knit has been discontinued, or is in LAST season's colors)well, I'd rather not play. That game is not worth my candle.
And I don't intend to go on the craft show circuit and sell retail or even wholesale.But the discipline of honing what I believe, the cutting away of the unnecessary to get to the heart of the matter, that moves me.
We remember, deep in our bones, what it was to fly. Angels have swans’ wings, demons have bats’ wings, superheroes wear capes. Wrapped in fine threads of a single strand entwined, we pick up our wings once more.