Center for Connections

Last Thursday, a dozen people came to our first Handwork Happy Hour, hosted by resident artist Shug Munic. They arrived with projects in tow — knitting, crocheting, mandala dotting, a punch rug tapestry, a pair of corduroy shorts that needed pockets, a birthday gift being painted for a lover, candlemaking. There were root beer floats, baklava, laughter, an unexpected connection between two people who have fallen in love with Greece. People came solo, some came with a friend. When Shug asked, “should these shorts have one or two pockets?” Everyone looked up and offered an opinion - “one.”

Then the Ditty Bag Class showed up. Of course, it was Thursday night and we were set up in their usual classroom. Thankfully the large classroom was available, and we quickly made it work. As we sorted out the mix-up, what struck me was the grace and care in how everyone figured out a solution together. Handwork Happy Hour offered an invitation to join the party - we have root beer floats and snacks! - but one Ditty Bag student politely declined by explaining - we take up a lot of space. I've been thinking about that ever since. What I heard underneath it was - we just want to be together. Three weeks in, they had become something important to each other, and sought to continue developing their intimate craft culture.

Ditty Bags are a sampler project rooted in sailmaking — every stitch, knot, and rope technique a sailor needs, gathered into one object. Charles Buchwald leads the class, and the room he's cultivated is a celebration of intergenerational learning and meditative handcraft, with each bag distinct and alive with its maker's aesthetic sensibility and exploration of a long-standing tradition.

Moving between the two rooms that evening, I kept thinking of how craft is keeping us together. These activities that keep our hands and minds busy settle the nervous system for something quieter and more essential to be cultivated — steadiness, presence, and a path into real relationship with the people around us. Having something to do lowers the stakes of being together and gives strangers a way into relationship with one another.

I feel this myself. When I'm knitting or whittling a piece of buckthorn, counting stitches or refining an angle, the anxious noise in my head telling me - okay, time to get out! - can relax. I can stay in the conversation and community a while longer - connect more deeply, not to mention, get further on my projects.

— Cal