Craft-y Musings

I finally received my first issue of Craft magazine this weekend. Ben gave me a subscription for Christmas. For the past five weeks I have been hovering over our mailbox, hoping, longing, for the magazine to arrive. (Who knew it would take five weeks? Calgary might as well be in the middle of the Great White North, as far the U.S. Postal Service is concerned.) I think the Hallelujah Chorus may have played when I opened the box on Friday and discovered my beautiful magazine nestled inside.

All I can say is this ... it was so worth the wait.

Craft is a quarterly publication. I will be waiting at least three more long months for my next issue to arrive. As such, I have decided to savour the magazine as I would a fine chocolate bar. A little taste here, a small nibble there. I've indulged in a handful of articles so far. I eventually intend to enjoy every word and image between the covers.

Carla Sinclair's opening editorial immediately struck a chord. (I may or may not have read it in our parked van, two minutes after I received the magazine...) The article is titled Copy This. Sinclair shares the premise that duplication and repetition are integral components of crafting. A knitter may repeat the same stitch thousands of times, a beadworker might produce a dozen copies of the same piece of jewellery, a seamstress may create a pattern for other crafters to replicate. Crafting is all about creating copies.

I am the type of person who enjoys mundane, repetitive tasks. When I read Sinclair's editorial, I finally found words to articulate one reason why I prefer crafts to (so-called) fine art. My studio major in art school was painting. I certainly enjoy the process of painting, but in school I didn't like the high brow pretentiousness associated with the painting studio. We were expected to create singular works of art. So much pressure! I can now see that my former obsession with painted grids was tied to my desire for repetition, and I sought security in grid-like lines and patterns.

I am also drawn to the practical nature of crafting. Crafts are meant to be used. They are intended to be handled, worn, manipulated. Fine art, so often, is inaccessible. We are separated from the art, either by a picture frame, a glass case, or by the artist's unfathomable conceptualism. Crafts are easy to understand; they are accessible, everyday art objects. A pair of woolly mittens warm my fingers, a ceramic pot holds my tea, I snuggle beneath a hand-stitched quilt. Crafts are a comforting part of our everyday lives.

The line between fine art and fine craft is blurring. The crafting revolutions speaks to the heart of our hectic, performance-driven, materialistic culture. Yes, I can buy a perfectly good blanket for my bed from Walmart. However, I might choose another alternative. Who cares if it takes me the next fourteen months to finish knitting an afghan? The process is just as important and the product --- the repetitive, meditative act of working with needles and yarn. I believe my afghan is a work of art, and I derive great pleasure from the simple act of knitting.

All this to say, Craft magazine resonates with my artistic sensibilities. I only wish it had existed a few years ago. Craft might have equipped me to better express myself. As an art student, I believe I would have enjoyed printmaking and photography. Both artistic mediums involve replication and the production of multiple copies. Craft has helped me find a new language of expression, and I now understand my artistic inclinations more clearly.

My magazine quietly sits on the arm of the couch beside me, patiently waiting. I think I'll now flip through a few more pages. Unfortunately, the danger is that I will be overly struck by inspiration. I might bite off more than I can chew. I already have several projects on the go, and many more bubbling through my imagination. When will I ever find time to finish everything? My life is full of baby steps ... baby steps.