Working with my hands to make a thing whether its a sketchbook or a piece of weaving or a drawing fulfils some essential function of me. It feels predestined, its part of my DNA. I cant imagine not having a project on the go. There would be a hole in my life, a sense that there is something I should be doing. When Im making I am focused, resolved, connected to the work I am shaping. Afterwards, I feel refreshed, invigorated even, and always more energetic for what is going on around me. Ive come to the conclusion that as long as Im making, I can do all the other things being alive requires of me. I equate my daily craft practice with, if anything, meditation.
Arzu Tahsin, editor, crafter
My granny was a seamstress in a department store in Glasgow in the 1920s. Her brother was a machine engineer at the Coats thread factory in Paisley and she had these old boxes at the bottom of her wardrobe full of spools of cotton in a whole palette of gorgeous colours. There were beads, bits of jet, feathers and fantastic treasures shed hoarded for years. I loved her stories of the smart city ladies she sewed for and dreamed of fairy-tale outfits Id make with the motley coloured threads; thats what gave me the itch to make. When Im making I have room to think. And to do my daydreaming.
Rosemary Davidson, editor, crafter
It was late November, too early for the Christmas spirit to have really kicked in, but close enough to panic that the scarves we were knitting wouldnt be finished in time to give as presents. So, as well as dinner and gossip, we added knitting to that evenings agenda.
As we finished one row and cast on another, our conversation meandered around family and work and their respective joys and frustrations, and from there to general musings on the pleasure of just sitting around making stuff, and losing yourself in an activity that doesnt require too much thought. We talked not just about knitting, but anything that you can do with your hands that feels almost automatic. We remarked on our compulsion to make things and where this desire came from. We compared how we each felt during the process and agreed that the activity itself provided additional, but elusive benefits, beyond the satisfaction of having created a physical object.
We realised that the two of us have been crafters for almost as long as weve had hands. Through marriage, divorce, various jobs, mental health issues and the ups and downs of raising young children, we have consistently crafted. We have used our creativity to bring to life the ideas in our heads, whether its by knitting, crochet, bookbinding, weaving, potting plants or making ceramics; sitting in Rosemarys kitchen, we acknowledged to each other that it has become as essential to us as putting on clothes in order to leave the house.
Were both avid readers, and we chatted about how there are many books about craftsmanship, on the joy and positive effects of working with your hands for a living. Between us, we had read several memoirs by skilled craftsmen and women who have spent a lifetime honing their expertise to perfection in order to produce exquisite furniture or pottery. But we realised that we also wanted to read about ordinary, everyday craft, the simple pleasure to be had just from making stuff, without worrying too much about how it turns out, and how it makes us feel. A book that included the stories and experiences of people like us who work in quite different areas to the crafts they pursue, yet pursue them all the same.
Why do we craft? What is to be gained from spending regular periods of time absorbed in a creative pastime? Given that neither one of us is necessarily interested in setting up a business and selling pinch pots and rag dolls, what is the point?
Before long we had some answers to these questions that had evolved over that November evening, and began to put together some thoughts. We make things because we enjoy it and because our crafts make us feel better. It is when we return to our sewing, knitting, bookbinding or weaving that we achieve moments of calm. When our energy is low, making something energises us. When we feel overwhelmed or stressed, crafting returns us to an even keel it helps to keep the different demands on our time in balance. Making reaches into the place where ideas are sparked and where problems are resolved. Our crafts add meaning and purpose, along with new challenges and the drive to gain skills and mastery, in our lives. And because making something from scratch often leads us to new experiences, new encounters and new areas of imaginative inquiry, interest and inspiration, we feel more engaged and generally more effective in our work and relationships as a result. As long as we are making and creatively fulfilled we are equipped to deal with all the rest that life throws at us.
For us, the process of making is in itself simultaneously mindful meditation and an energy and mood enhancer. Making things is our therapy. We are happier, more resourceful and, hopefully, better people to be around. It is a state of mind and a way of being that we call craftfulness. The same benefits for some are enjoyed through mindfulness and meditation, yoga, running, playing an instrument or singing, for example. The activity itself has wider benefits and implications for ones well-being and happiness, far beyond the object we have made or the race we have run. It has become integral to the pattern of our lives and led us to a rich community of encouraging, inspiring and collaborative fellow makers, many of whom, like us, have discovered additional well-being benefits through craft.
We are not craft experts. Neither one of us feels particularly artistic in the conventionally perceived sense of the word; nor were we especially gifted students in art classes at school. We have day jobs as freelance editors that we love, but we are makers, menders, dabblers and gung-ho experimenters who are convinced of the mental health benefits of practising every day (or at least as often as is possible) a craft that inspires and challenges us. We are not neuroscientists advancing studies on brain chemistry or psychologists exploring the impact of a meditative practice on our mental health. But as experts on our own lives, we have very definite thoughts about why we make the things we do and why creativity and crafting is so important for our state of mind. In fact, we passionately believe that this matters more today than ever. For everyone.
In the following pages, we set out our manifesto for making and explain why we should all form a craft habit. As we will see, creating an object from the idea to the finished work is empowering, building confidence and resilience. Whether its fulfilling an artistic urge or stitching something up that otherwise might be thrown away, it is a vital means of self-expression, self-realisation and self-help. Through making and mending things, we contend that you are also potentially making and mending yourself.
We share our personal experiences and insights as dedicated crafters, along with the stories of fellow makers who are pursuing practices that help them feel better about themselves, at home and at work, and who, like us, firmly believe that a regular craft activity makes a positive impact on their mental health.
In the process, we also investigate the areas of mindfulness, neuroscience, positive psychology and creativity research. And, while it is not our ambition to overwhelm you with countless research studies, we include salient or particularly interesting insights from the fields of science, medicine and contemporary social policy research where relevant. We visit vital and inspiring artistic community spaces and talk to GPs, psychologists, psychiatrists and experts in mental health care about the links between creative making and improved outcomes for well-being.