Those of us of a certain age - like me - have had handmade items all of our lives. When I was growing up, "store bought" signified high quality. Handmade was something anybody could have.
It's amazing to me how everything has changed Going out to eat used to be a big deal, and was exciting because I could eat things like chicken chow mein that we didn't know how to make at home. Eating at home was, well, boring.
Today, a homemade meal is a treat for me, especially now that I have knee and back problems and cooking takes a lot of planning so that I don't have to stand for long lengths of time. And now I have an Etsy shop, so cooking also takes away from bead-making, which has become a nearly consuming passion.
The handmade items in m life are my favorite posessions. Some of the manufactured items are dear to me, but the handmade items also have memories of the person who made them, or if I acquired them myself, the spark of delight I felt when I first saw them.
When it came time to clean out my parents' home after their deaths, most of the items I kept were handmade, including an afghan my mother crocheted and quilts made by my grandmothers. But there was also Amy, a handmade doll purchased with my own money from my babysitter when I was around 11, complete with a tag on her bottom bearing the name of the woman who made her.
Also very dear to me is a small chest made for my mother by her uncle and given to her when she was a little girl. When she finally decided I was old enough to use it, it held some Barbie clothes and my rock collection. Today, I don't keep much in it; I prefer to be able to open one of the drawers and read the inscription Mom's uncle wrote to her.
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My father made ornamental chests for me, my mother, my sister, and other relatives and friends, that are deeply cherished. And of course, there was the "Sunbonnet Sue" quilt made by my grandmother that served as a bedspread for quite a few years.
Handmade items today, are unique and usually of better quality than similar items you can buy. But they are also things that are most often passed down from generation to generation because they embody the souls of the makers and the love they had for those who were to receive them. No amount of money will buy that.
Today Amy sits in my studio, along with the little chest, as my muse and my anchor, reminding me of who I am, where I came from, and why I do what I do.
I hope my beads will be used in jewelry that will eventually be passed down from mother to daughter. Nothing would make me happier than if, 100 years from now, someone picks up such a piece and wonders "who made this?" My name won't be known, of course, but I hope they can see the care and the love that went into it.
