Machines and Old Lace

Tonight I have such mixed emotions about machines! Have they done more harm than good? Oh yes, I know I sound ridiculous but bear with me for a moment because I am realizing in full what we have lost with such gain, such advancement. And still, I wonder too what we will lose in the days ahead? Granted the use of machines increased production and saved enormous amounts of time and back breaking labor, but what happened to the making of beautifully crafted items that had been passed down from generation to generation? I also realized tonight that I stood empty handed when it came to teaching my children a craft. It is not just the thing that was hammered, sewn, woven,welded or spun that was lost to us, but the sacredness of the hours and days I would have spent teaching my children the craft- talking as we were doing it together, admiring the progress, and then keeping it as a memory of those moments we spent in one mind to create something lovely. The beauty of the craft was not only the craft to be cherished and admired but equally important were the days involved in it's creation. This is what people experienced many years ago. This is why people were in deeper community, why families engaged in more conversation and interaction. I am convinced of it. They made from scratch what they ate. Their hands fashion together what they sat upon. There was little distraction if any. Think about it for a moment. What kind of dynamic would that have encouraged among family and neighbors? I think a profound richness, a filling of life that some know very little about. It seems with each invention we move further and further away from one another. I have noticed that today we sit silently in rooms filled with purchased furniture and knickknacks and are practically nailed to the floor with our electronic devices, including our televisions. Many of us feel the most comfortable this way and by doing so are losing the art of conversation and craft. 

                                                                                     

Why in the world am I talking about this? The other night I watched an episode of the BBC series Larkrise to Candleford and it just brought me to tears. The show was about how one craft in particular was replaced by the machine (the loom) and because of this, many a village woman that depended on her making and selling of lace for rent money were cast aside and considered antiquated because the loom could produce the lace so much faster. I know you may be scratching your head and asking -what?, you regret not teaching your children how to make lace? No, not exactly, but I do regret that I didn't understand the importance, worth and value in things that are handmade.

bobbin lace 1884

Crafts used to be as large and beautiful as a piece of furniture like the secretary, specifically designed for a person to sit, write letters, file away important papers and just arrange the things of life (much like the use of computers today), and as delicate and intricate as a lace crafted dress or tablecloth.

  I have always loved old things, antiques, and finally realize why I am drawn to them.  I thought it was because I romanticized the past, and yes I guess I do a bit, but more so I think the thing, the antique, speaks to me of quality and a time when there was more cohesiveness with family, with community, good or bad, it was there and it was enriching. It was taking life by the horns together. It was creating together.  Individuality wasn't such the rage as it has become in our Western culture. It was a time when the word neighbor was hitched to the word thyself - "Love thy neighbor as thyself." Unfortunately I do not know many of my own neighbors. Isn't it strange that even though the world is shrinking, so too are our communication levels. I can feel this in myself, all around myself. We fear intimacy and sometimes depth. We have more places to hide today. We are going to have to make efforts,big efforts to regain some ground we lost through the coming of machines and now the computer.

Joseph's pottery

                                                        

Shower curtain Rachel made for me

I know it was a hard life over a hundred years ago. Work was a constant way of life. I am not so naive as to think it would be nice to go back to that time. My desire would be to take what we have lost-the art of a craft, the art of conversation and make it a part of our lives once again. I am too content with my laptop. And yes, it would take discipline and consistency, but it would be well worth it. I wish I had thought of this some 30 plus years ago.

I am thankful that even though I did not teach my children a craft, they have found their way to one. Hopefully they will see the beauty and perhaps one day teach their children. Joseph is my middle child. He learned how to throw pots a few years ago. He is very good at it and does it in his spare time. He learned how to do this craft through friends, a professor at university and others. For a while he was learning how to make concrete counter tops, worked with stained glass and picked up a bit of carpentry skill. His main craft is writing and he does that well too. Rachel is my daughter. She went on a two year binge of sewing after marrying Alex. She made quilts, bedspreads, curtains and shower curtains. My grandmother was an excellent seamstress, as was my mother! I regret not having the patience to learn. My mother should have insisted! Instead of Rachel being self-taught, I wish I had spent the hours and days teaching her how to sew. She has a steady hand and a knack for it, although her craft of late is creating mini films-videos that capture moments in the lives of others. She has a knack for this too! My youngest son Allen found his passion in music. He can play the guitar like nobodies business! He writes songs, good songs. I am waiting to see what he will do with this after he gets his degree in December. 

Joseph's teapot

                                                    

I, on the other hand, am thinking about a craft. I write. I play the piano, I paint occasionally, but I am itching to create something with my hands, a craft I can do with someone. Perhaps I will learn to make lace! Joseph left his old kiln here. Perhaps pottery? I want to think of something. I have a granddaughter. It is important to me. It will be important to us.