FREE STANDARD SHIPPING, ALWAYS
Published 9/10/26
Advice
Every year, my town throws a bazaar type of thing. It’s a weekend where local vendors and artisans set up shop so residents and tourists can wander through and see what everyone's been making. Often, I go just to walk around and window shop rather than buy anything. I love being part of it: a whole day devoted to people showing up and saying, this is what I made, this is what I do. Something about being surrounded by that much handmade work always leaves me itching to get back to my own crafting.
This year it was the drive up that got me, more than anything at the bazaar itself. I found myself feeling almost envious—not of any specific craft or item, but of the people. Of the fact that they'd turned their creative passions into something real. If I'm being even more honest, it wasn’t that I envied so much their talent (okay, some if it was) as their bravery.
By the time I parked, that feeling had turned into a want I couldn't shake: I had taken a whole week off work, and I wanted to build myself a little haven inside it. No deadlines, no business plan, nothing I had to be brave about. Just time to create without guilt or rushing. To create for creation’s sake. The kind of creative version of myself I'd almost forgotten existed.
There was no time to brainstorm what that would actually be, though, because time was of the essence.
So instead, I decided I would start by finding something to do with my hands with whatever material was in my vicinity. At first, I thought to myself, "wouldn't this be the perfect time to start your sourdough journey?" That idea was quickly shut down when I remembered, 1) I had literally none of the ingredients or know-how of where to start, and 2) I am not nor have I ever been culinarily inclined.
Then I remembered that I had a bin in my bedroom that had been silently nagging me in the back of my mind. The dreaded bin of yarn with multiple half-finished (or half-started, if you look at the glass half-full) knitting and crochet projects just begging to be picked back up. And so I grabbed the WIP that I optimistically said last winter I would finish and decided there is no time like now to get that sweater done (if I'm being honest, it will probably be sometime in the middle of this winter, but I digress).
For context, I had left the project in the literal middle of a row last time I worked on it. Also, knitting is kind of a new hobby I’ve picked up in the last year, so I'm no expert. But something changed for me in the moment I picked the sweater back up. It took me all of five minutes to get right back into the project that hadn't been in my hands in six months. And the muscle memory felt almost like a healing experience for me. It reminded me that I was meant to create and that hand-making is a quintessential part of who I am.
I come from a long line of women who love to craft and create. I remember sitting next to my grandmother when I was a 12-year-old girl as she patiently taught me how to crochet. Her wrinkly, shaky fingers taught me the correct way to hold the yarn taut, what to do when you drop a stitch, and the sometimes necessary, but painful, act of frogging (named for the "rip it, rip it" motto that you tell yourself as you pull out every stitch). My mother loved to hand make ornaments for Christmas, even going so far as learning how to make stained glass stars. And she'd always let the kids try out new skills and hobbies. I've now carried on that legacy by teaching myself new skills such as quilting, knitting, painting, and beadwork, as well as any other craft that comes across my TikTok feed that makes me think to myself, "hmm, I think I could do that!"
And that thought process has led me to consider the lessons I've learned from creating with my hands. It's often a healthy way I have learned to cope with boredom, frustration, loneliness, and anxiety to name a few. Which has gotten me thinking about what crafting has actually taught me. So, in no particular order:
Not everything needs to turn out perfect to still be good
Coming from a girl who really wants to achieve perfection, the art of crafting is an amazing life lesson in "done is better than perfect." I have a quilt sitting on the back of my couch that I made that is a work of art, if I do say so myself. But if you look at it up close, it's actually quite a mess. I don't even think the bottom squares of the quilt are the same size as the top squares, so when you hold up the quilt, it tapers down instead of staying square. And guess what? Only I have ever noticed or said something about it. And that lesson alone has started to help me let go of perfection and find my zen when it comes to other projects I am a part of. As they say, the enemy of good is better.
Starting over is often the right answer
I once decided to make a crocheted bag for my best friend's birthday. This was going to be a large tote bag, perfect for this friend. I remember getting about 70% of the way through, holding up the project, and deciding that it needed to be redone. I know I just got through saying that perfection shouldn't be chased in the previous point, but in this case, starting over was 100% the right answer. There was a lot of frustration when I realized that hours of my life were wasted as I pulled stitch after stitch out of this beautiful project. But a good life lesson also came out of this: starting over created something even better, and by the end I was grateful that I could barely remember the previous mistakes that had been made.
Sometimes not finishing is also the right answer
Which leads me to my next point: sometimes you just have to put the project down and walk away. My craft room is full of the ghosts of projects I thought I could finish but became too difficult, ideas I once had that I forgot about, and simply pieces of scraps that no longer felt worthy of finishing. And while, yes, a lot of money and time was wasted on those projects, I feel no love lost at simply not finishing. Because truly, there is no waste when it comes to practicing a skill or attempting something new. And there is no amount of frustration in the world that is worth it if you're not having fun making the craft.
No skill is too hard to learn (especially in the era of YouTube)
I've learned everything from how to use a solder iron and meld together pieces of glass (okay, woman in STEM!) to a crash course in graphic design to create a magazine of my life in my Monthbooks. I have personally yet to find something YouTube couldn't teach me how to do.
Asking for help is OK
Did you know this? This one's still hard for me to actually believe. But learning a new skill often comes with a lot of humility and plenty of trial and error. I have literally been at the point where I brought in a current WIP to work because one of my coworkers was a proficient knitter and told me she could help me with one of my roadblocks. And isn't that a great life lesson? Asking for help strengthens your own skills and builds trust with others.
It's more fun to try new things with other people
Some of my favorite memories of all time include sitting around a ping-pong-table-turned-craft-table with my aunts and cousins as we gathered our materials and supplies, ate good food, and used our hands together. The next time you're lonely for your friends to gather, propose a craft you can do as a group, ask for a few people to bring treats, and get your YouTube university degree out as you host a craft night.
You'll appreciate it more if you put your hands into it
All of my most treasured items are ones that I could never replace because they were handmade for me by someone I love. There is a little bit of a lost art these days to handing down precious irreplaceable items that were handmade by matriarchs of the past. In fact, that's how the idea for our company was started. Vanessa Quigley realized when her youngest child turned 12 that there was a lack of photos and scrapbooks where he was featured. And now we are talking about the importance of continuing to build memories and make things with your hands so that you have something to treasure and pass on. These types of souvenirs will be a keepsake for your family for many generations.
So as I return this week back into my normal routines, I'm excited to take these life lessons into my everyday. And hopefully sneak in a few more moments to sit and be still and find time for creativity.