I come from a family of
makers, so when I began writing down stories of them, I figured writing
what they made was the most sensible.
The DIY trend was not a trend for me in my life, it is my life. My mother comes by the making rather
naturally. Both of my maternal
grandparents were Midwestern children of the depression, and making items
was useful as well as necessary.
They were incredibly resourceful people, a trait which they passed
down to their children. On my
father’s side, I think my grandparents were makers for pleasure. My grandmother doodled and wrote all her
life, and had the creative clean chaos in her home that I so understand as
an adult. I’m not sure about my
grandfather. From stories passed
down through my family, I know he was handy, but I’m not sure how well he
was handy. The evidence of this is
the deck in my parents’ back yard.
Every year my dad replaces more and more pieces of my grandfather’s
handy work to create something sturdier.
Now
why do I find this important to talk about now?
Why must I have a quarter life crisis and delve into my making
past? Good question. Well, my grandmother Jeanette passed away in
August of 2015. This was a shock to my
system. I had seen her not 2 days before
she had died, discussing my upcoming wedding and the work needed to be done on
my dress. It stung to know that she
would never see the end result.
Throughout the proceedings for her memorial, one theme came up: what she
made. We had examples of her sewing and
painting, and every granddaughter discussed the projects we made whenever we
would spend weekends with her as children, and in my case as an adult. The first thought I had at the end of the
memorial was “I need a sewing machine.”
So, I bought one. Out of the
blue. And began focusing a great deal of
my energy on making things that were useful.
While
my family are prolific makers, I had a hard time finishing projects. I would start something, think it was useless
and discard it. There are a few things I
finished, like my thesis film for animation and crocheted hats, but for the
most part, I was filling my apartment with supplies for projects that I had no
reason or desire to finish. But after
Grandma Jeanette passed away, I felt the need to make things, and I have.
To
be in my family is to make, and I want to share that with the world. We make things to be useful, to be cost
effective, to be busy and to make things look how we want. We make to be quiet, to be social, to be
us. Making is a way of life, and I
really want to share that.
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