I feel strongly about the work I do, from the smallest pirate or apple hat to the largest free form piece. From one string of yarn I have hand spun to the largest pile of carded fibre, the work is uniquely mine. I do not find copying the sincerest form of flattery, but rather a sad comment on a life lacking in imagination and authenticity.
I have always believed that if your work is organically derived (if you feel it deeply) the work will speak to someone and be appreciated. Everything I do has my own personal stamp on it and it is distasteful to me that there are poorly constructed imitations out there that might be mistaken as mine.
I realize it is hard for a “maker” of things to find the balance between creativity and knocking out inventory, but really, cultivated consumers will look for quality. I would rather make less, and make it perfect than vomit up a booth full of “stuff” for sale.
Now saying this, I realize that what I make is not to everyone’s taste. I make things that resonate with me and I hope that I find like minded people who appreciate the work. However there is no one that can say that the execution of my work is not held to an incredibly high standard.
So here I sit, doomed to a life of making things I love, designing and executing them with the full inspiration and passion that evolved them in the first place and hoping that I am not alone in my respect for well constructed, inspired and elegant things.
Oh and I finished my hat and not so matchy scarf yesterday.
