Lament
~ Gerda Mayer

Youth my
youth you lie
dead your vi
olent vi
olet passions and
follies your
silly green
hopes crushed
your grey
wind that
roared through
the world
pricked and de
flated
your gold-hoofed
high blood
slug
gish
and te
thered
your hys
terical
fountains
dry
whilst I
sit in
my e
nor
mous
ramshackle
ego
tistical house
a fat mid
dle aged wo
man smel
ling of
onions

Bowl of onions

A Flower-Piece by Fantin
~Algernon Charles Swinburne

Heart’s ease or pansy, pleasure or thought,
Which would the picture give us of these?
Surely the heart that conceived it sought
Heart’s ease.

Surely by glad and divine degrees
The heart impelling the hand that wrought
Wrought comfort here for a soul’s disease.

Deep flowers, with lustre and darkness fraught,
From glass that gleams as the chill still seas
Lean and lend for a heart distraught
Heart’s ease.

Fleurs par Henri Fantin Latour

The Double Axe
~ Anne Hazlewood-Brady

With torches have I wandered the dark poppy world
Looking for Serena, my daughter with green eyes.
Wearing the colors of clouds just after sunset
She has been hidden archly in the curl of a wave.
Once, in the streets, I saw her marching with men,
fifteen striding; she moved like a lily and was gone.
She has called to me with the voices of dovces
And her anger, green as ice in the pale bay,
Is like a shield against the unrelenting cold.
When each morning she wakes me singing in the new light
Or when I discern her far-off, bed-time moaning,
Serena with green eyes becomes all our daughters,
And on those who betray her, vested with my love,
The double axe will fall like boulders of thunder.

Minoan Goddess with Double Headed Axe

Stephanie McCarter’s article “From Penelope to Pussyhats, The Ancient Origins of Feminist Craftivism: On Subversive Uses of Women’s Handicrafts Throughout History” appeared on LitHub a few months ago.

As someone who engages in a variety of typically feminine fiber arts (sewing, embroidery, and weaving), the title spoke to me. While I’ve never considered my crafting as a subversive or political act, this was an invitation to read that I couldn’t resist.

McCarter talks about how women’s handwork is decried or downplayed by many modern feminists as being unworthy or demeaning. “On the other hand, such denigration disturbingly participates in a long tradition of belittling women’s artistic pursuits, particularly those associated with poor women and women of color, which have rarely been afforded consideration as serious art.” Men’s art hangs in museums; women’s needlework is displayed in grade school cafeterias at weekend craft shows. (Each June, it’s off to Fort Bragg, California, for the annual Fort Bragg Quilt Show, which is, yes, held in a grade school cafeteria. The quilts on display are amazing works of art, meticulously planned, cut, and stitched by women with more patience in their little finger than I possess in my entire person. But, you know, they’re just quilts, so a small town grade school is the right venue for viewing, not a proper museum. /end sarcasm.)

Fiber work is a way for women to spend time doing something they enjoy, but which is perceived as virtuous (she is making something useful) or a deserved break (she is making something pretty) (as long as she doesn’t take too much time away from being useful). Realistically, it’s an opportunity for companionship, support, and bonding, and a much-needed break from daily stress. For a few years, I held a monthly “Ladies’ Circle”, to which everyone brought their needlework, artwork, and treats to share. It was the best Saturday of the month. We chatted about fun things, discussed deeply personal matters, analyzed the state of the world, and made progress on our projects which were usually rather neglected the rest of the month. It was an opportunity to indulge ourselves in positive ways (okay, there may have been rather a lot of cake sometimes!), and simply unwind while making time for the projects that didn’t get enough time otherwise. Was it resistance? Perhaps we were resisting the cultural pressure to be useful or to be helpful. But if you can’t be helpful to yourself, you can’t be useful to others.

Crafting can also be a direct subversion of power. Natalie Zarelli’s article “The Wartime Spies Who Used Knitting as an Espionage Tool” on Atlas Obscura discusses the use of knitting to encode messages in fabric to support the resistance in World War I and World War II. Whether encoding messages in their knitting, or using their knitting kits to conceal messages, the women were perceived as being useful and harmless, while recording and passing information. “Knitting used by the Belgian Resistance during World War II included dropping a stitch, which forms a hole, for one sort of passing train, and purling a stitch, which forms a bump in the fabric, for another, which helped the resistance track the logistics of their enemies. Elizabeth Bently, an American who spied for the Soviet Union during World War II and later became a US informant, used her knitting bag to sneak early plans for the B-29 bombs and information on aircraft creation.”

Even if they are not actively plotting social or government resistance, the crafting women are enjoying personal expression, creative work, and bonds of friendship. Creating strong relationships and encouraging each other’s authenticity is also a form of subversion in a society that urges conformity and fitting in. When women are still encouraged to sacrifice their personal pleasures to family or social duty, taking time to enjoy something just for yourself is subversive.

McCarter encourages us to keep at it, even if we don’t think of ourselves as political persons. “Women have honed such resistance through centuries of oppression by using its very tools. Rather than denigrate or reject these long-established feminine forms of art, we should remember them. Craft, cunning, art, coded speech—these are the weapons of the oppressed. As women’s hard-won rights grow increasingly eroded and the parameters of free speech more contested, we must always keep at hand the subversive power of craft.”

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m off to weave.

My Weaving Project

Scores of People Live in Her
~ Barbara Abbs

Scores of people live in her
Each different face
Wheeled out as appropriate
To fill each different space.
Aria, hymn, pop or folk,
She sings them all to order.
The wise friend
Succeeds the screaming shrew,
With scarcely a pause
The quiet gardener with trowel and trug
Changes places with the critical consumer comparing lipstick|
And testing face-cream,
Becomes the peace demonstrator
In jeans and anorak.
The wiper of noses and drier of tears
Charlston’s in the sitting-room, unseen.
The opera lover discriminating carefully
From her velvet seat
On her knees
Wipes mud and spilt food from the kitchen floor.
One man’s muse, another’s virago,
She juggles conservative friends
With radical neighbors,
Breakfasts with The Times
And lunches with ‘The Archers’
And types words of others in between.
Spinning like a Catherine wheel
Flinging sparks in all directions
She is quickly consumed.

Catherine Wheel -Image from Google