habituated hindsight

Three Blankets, One Beach. The winter wind, white sky. There were once three blankets: the purple one, the green one and the pastel rainbow. They were all similar yet very different. They were for different people, marking different life events. They were brought to a beautiful beach at Rhos on Sea and displayed in space to give them time and space to breathe before leaving my house to be united with their respective rightful owners. And then, as it often happens, something unexpectedly beautiful had occurred. As we tried to photograph me presenting the blankets, nature had other ideas. Wind had different plans. There was no way what we presumed and perhaps planned…

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incongruent inheritance

There is something poignant about finding myself back where I began. Not in a dramatic, cinematic way; more in the way you open a drawer you haven’t looked in for years and think, oh… yes, yes this makes sense entirely, you again, welcome and thank you please… I’ve been crocheting mostly presents. BLANKETS for people I care about, stitched in between work and study and stress and worry and the general swirl of life. And somehow, without planning it, I’ve looped right back to baby blankets, the very thing that started this whole crochet obsession in the first place. It feels like an inheritance I didn’t consciously choose, more like one that chose…

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