Storytelling

Jude Hill's "Moments Quilt Block 5"

My richest moments of connection with my kids have involved storytelling. The stories become windows into each child's development and inner life. I tell my youngest hero tales set in our own backyard, with Nessie the Lake Monster and a friendly troll who lives under the rock bridge at the creek. My middle child is drawing simple ball characters and giving them names, powers, and stories like the Pokemon characters. My oldest, who will soon go off to sleepaway camp for three weeks, is now fascinated by stories about me and my husband in college and graduate school. Those true tales would make most people yawn, but I think she sees in them glimpses of her future independence.

Detail of Jude Hill's "Moments Quilt Block 5"

I am not a natural storyteller. My inherent shyness makes it difficult to perform a story. This stage fright blocks my creativity as well, making it hard to access the stories I know that I have inside of me.

Playing Tic Tac Toe with my Covered Stones and Jude Hill's Circles

But storytelling with my kids has forced me to get over some of these hangups. When I hear, "Mommy, tell me a story," from my youngest, it no longer creates a sense of panic in me. I choose an event from his day or a fear he is working to overcome and launch a story from there. I never know where these tales will end up, but somehow they manage to engage his emotions and imagination.


Telling stories establishes a close connection between me and my kids. When we're like this, the words seem to wrap us in a warm embrace. I think that this embrace is even larger than the two of us. It makes my kids feel a special part of a larger community, helping them learn the values and skills for navigating the sometimes difficult terrain of life.


I've been reminded lately that we all have stories to tell and a deep need to share these with others, to make connections through our words and images.


I have been entranced with how Flickr has created a new form of playful, communal electronic storytelling. A bench becomes a stage for bringing together the props of our daily lives to tell a homey story of our day or reveal a colorful fantasy.


Blogs provide another wonderful forum for sharing our stories--some whimsical, some deeply personal, and some purely poetic.


Utilitarian objects also have their own stories to tell. Quilts in particular capture narratives in patches of cloth and thread. Textile artist Jude Hill stitches, weaves, and appliques intricate stories into her quilts, which she calls "spirit cloths." I have been enchanted by her quilting experiments on Flickr for a while now. But it was only recently that I explored her blog to learn more about her materials and methods.

What an incredible narrative I discovered by going back to her first post, in October 2006, and following the story of her two-year journey of creating a quilt for her brother. The quilt, called "Listen to the River," is a complete and varied landscape that captures the spirit of her brother. As she stitches each detail, the cloth comes alive with the conversation she is having with its future owner. The quilt evolves with each new block constructed and detail added: a meaningful talisman is tucked in a secret pocket, an animal familiar appliqued on a block peers out fearlessly. (You can follow the quilt's construction through Jude's Flickr collection here.)


Let me leave you with a profound quote from Jude's "Quilting for Answers" post on May 14, 2007. I think it summarizes perfectly the practice of crafting as storytelling; how crafting a story in fiber or other tactile form feeds our creativity and fulfills our needs to understand the world and communicate these discoveries:

"sometimes i get the feeling that developing and practicing a craft has far reaching implications in our personal development as well... a window of sorts. an edge and a meeting point between the inside and the outside.... all things being similar, the patience to understand your material, the thought process involved in problem solving... the quiet determination that perfects a thought... the research to connect the dots and make a vision materialize.....

to understand just one thing through and through answers so many other questions for me, and it would culminate in the ability to share that feeling... my never ending quest to answer my main question, is communication really possible?

and so my craft has come to reveal itself to me as a symbol of this personal quest to understand and communicate something, which would be my greatest gift."