Most of us don’t remember learning how to talk. In the same way, I don’t remember learning how to knit. Growing up, knitting was just another way my family expressed ideas. I remember my two great aunts who amazed me with their magical touch—from gorgeous bonsai, to exquisite perennial borders, and even stately stone walls—there was almost nothing they couldn’t create themselves. It seems some of my creativity is inherited, but much of it was honed earlier in my career when I worked in the ready-to-wear industry as an apparel and textile designer. That’s where I learned the important basics of garment construction and surface design.
I love to design knitwear because it lets me draw on my construction skills, yet play with all types of fibers, and an almost endless pallet of colors. I find true inspiration from the interplay of unexpected combinations of colors and textures, which carries over into my final designs and patterns. I gain great satisfaction from these finished projects. Years afterward, I can run my hands over something I made and be transported back in time and place to where I was when I made them.
In our home, creativity is rooted in the “mess” of everyday life – piles of yarn, paints, fabrics, a spinning wheel, guitars, and even an upright bass. My girls say they love our messy home because these piles are signs of “creative acts.”
Clearly, it’s in our DNA.