Observations from Slow Fashion and Slow Stitching July 2024
Each year I run these retreats I learn new things. About people, about community, about myself. If you aren’t learning you’re dying, right? Isn’t that how the saying goes…? I am grateful for the knowledge. And yet sometimes the learning is still painful. Half way through my ‘year’ I have a new perspective.
I’m not sure I am able to express how much I appreciate how fully and beautifully people show up at the retreats, at Camp. I’m not sure they know they are going to arrive that way. I can sense in our opening hours who are already unpacking their anxiety, and putting it aside for the week. Who are the more cautious, watching carefully, taking the group temperature. Those are the ones I know will take their time opening up, relaxing into the group. They keep me present, and on my toes. I am grateful to each and every participant, Campers and Instructors alike. Because by the end of every week I have spoken with each one of these people. I have opened my heart to them, seen them, appreciated them, talked with them. And by the end, without exception, they have done the same. Makers are like that….
It is within us all, that desire to see and be seen. Know and be known. Connect and be connected. But our society is not great at fostering environments that make that feel safe. That is certainly my experience of living in the world. So when I see the wariness when they arrive, I understand. These are sewing retreats, right? Not group therapy sessions. They are not expected to be intimate or vulnerable, share of their deep selves. All true! We come together as Makers to share knowledge and skill, experience and technique. Somewhere in that process we open up around shared passions, and share our wants, needs, and desires. If it is a safe space to do so. My goal is to make sure it is in fact a safe space to do just that. With absolutely no expectations, no requirements, but with the humility and grace that, if they choose to do so, I will honor them. Makers are wonderful people in my experience. I cherish the ability to do this with them.
My first two retreat weeks were full! The first week always entails some muscle memory jogging my intellectual self. I stumble a bit, often my mouth can’t keep up with my brain. Though most recently my brain takes a coffee break just when I need it most… Annoying! We had some special challenges in that first week of Slow Fashion- a short black out, a covid case, a water outage. And the heat, good lord, it was hot! Too hot for us New Englanders with thick blood… But we rolled with it. Thank you to all who persevered with me! The second week was smoother and I got into a groove. (and the heat broke half way through.) The emotions were strong in that Slow Stitching week, and I was there for it. Then Medomak let me go, and I returned home to rest. Rest and unwinding from the retreats always takes a while. I willingly give of myself, and then need to recover as any full fledged introvert would. Even a high functioning one with exhibitionist tendencies, as I call myself. I need to get my energy ready for another two weeks. The week I had was fraught with political upheaval, and that shook my weakened psyche. But I came through. And here I am, in this place I don’t occupy enough, to share my appreciation of, and love for, all the people who are involved in my retreats.
At this moment I want to give a huge shout out to my July instructors: Cal Patch; Kristin Arzt; Arounna Khounorraj; Kim Eichler-Messmer; Bianca Springer; and Maria Shell.
Kristin, Cal, and Arounna… Slow Fashion July ‘24
Bianca, Kim, and Maria… Slow Stitching July ‘24
I am often asked why I don’t teach at my retreats, and the foremost reason is because I know so many talented and generous teachers. I want to give them a nurturing and supportive environment to share their skills and knowledge, with curious and seeking students. If I can facilitate that for them, and for the Campers, I am a very happy woman. To see the excitement in faces, hear the enthusiasm in voices, when a teacher strikes a chord? Magic, I tell you, absolute magic. It takes a certain type of Creative to teach well in any situation, that skill set is unique, treasured. I value it highly. To be able to do it in the intimate open forum of my Maine Stitching Retreats is a whole other level. I seek out these people to teach for me, speak for me, be my representative to the Campers. These are gifted humans who love to connect, no matter how introverted they may be. (As so many of us Makers are….) I love how many of these people have become my friends, and I consider them all family. People who I can drop right back into a conversation with no matter how long it’s been since we saw each other last. The best type of family. Logical family (as opposed to biological family). Camp connects us in an easy grounded way. Whatever happens, we always share that bond. I cherish that part of my life. Deeply.
Cal Patch has been teaching at these retreats since the very beginning. She is literally OG….
Bianca’s inspiration shone through so much work that week!
Arounna showed the Campers how to make very versatile bag.
Maria continued the tradition of Improv quilting at Slow Stitching.
Kristin and some of the beautiful dyeing to come from her workshops….
Kim brought the BLUE! And her kind, unwavering spirit….
If you’ve been to one of my retreats you know how emotional I can get, how confusing the #RestingBitchFace of my social media is to any who have heard me laugh, or seen me cry. I wear my heart on my sleeve and I am forever grateful to those who not only don’t make fun of me, but maybe rub elbows with me. This post is just another moment of me being emotional…. So, thank you to all who attend my retreats, and to all the teachers who have given so generously of their spirit and their knowledge. I salute you!