M Is For… Making / Materials / Memory
Making is the heartbeat of my studio practice. It’s not just the finished object — it’s the slow accumulation of gestures, textures, and choices that turn raw materials into something with presence. M is a three‑part theme for me: Making, Materials, and Memory, because in my world, they’re inseparable.
Making
Making is the act of showing up with your hands, your breath, your curiosity. It’s the moment when the idea in your head becomes something you can touch. It’s not always tidy. It’s not always linear.
But it’s always alive.
- Making is the pause between inhale and exhale.
- Making is the moment your hands know something your brain doesn’t yet.
- Making is the quiet ritual of returning to yourself through craft.
Some days it’s a full project.
Some days it’s one stitch.
Both count.
Materials
I’ve always believed materials have personalities. Wool has opinions. Paper has moods. Thread remembers tension. Tools carry the imprint of every hand that’s held them.
Materials aren’t passive — they’re collaborators.
- Wool stretches or resists depending on your touch.
- Cloth shifts under the needle like it has its own breath.
- Ink pools differently depending on humidity, pressure, and intention.
- Wood grain guides your hand if you’re willing to listen.
Working with materials is a conversation.
Sometimes they whisper.
Sometimes they argue.
Sometimes they surprise you.
Memory
Every object in the studio holds a story.
A scrap of fabric from a dress you loved.
A spool of thread from your grandmother’s sewing box.
A tool you bought during a season when you needed something steady to hold.
Memory lives in:
- the way your hands move
- the habits you return to
- the projects you abandon and resurrect
- the textures that feel like home
Making is a way of remembering.
Materials are the archive.
Your body is the storyteller.
Closing invitation
I like ending ACN posts with a gentle question, so here’s today’s:


What came to my mind regarding materials and memories was my grandmother’s quilts. My mother could point out patches that were made with her childhood dresses! I was an adult with my own child then.
Wow! What an amazing thing to have in your family.