Craftivist Pockets

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At the end of 2025 I was invited to deliver eight textile workshops at The Box, Plymouth which coincided with the Remember Respond Resist exhibition.

It was my first time seeing Grayson Perry’s work in person and Wow! A series of six acclaimed tapestries created in 2012 explores British fascination with taste and class through the fictional life story of a character named Tim Rakewell all beautifully displayed in one room. I attended a Gallery Talk and learned all about the symbolism and meaning woven into them.

Grayson Perry’s The Vanity of Small Differences
The Vanity of Small Differences (Detail)

In keeping with my ethos of gently stepping out of my comfort zone, I chose to deliver my Craftivist Collective Pocket workshop that I had co-facilitated with artist Claire Gladstone at The Plough, Torrington on International Women’s Day earlier this year. One of my Comfort Zone maxims is ‘In a new teaching venue, do a familiar activity’. Because my workshops are all about creating a safe, comfortable space for people to explore their creativity, the last thing I want to be is stressed out! When I want to try out a new workshop, I always do it in a familiar setting before taking it out into the world.

I prepared a short Powerpoint presentation to introduce myself and some of my artwork, Craftivism, to show some examples of pockets, and some of the techniques we’ll be using.

As Betsy Greer, the Godmother of Craftivism says, “Craftivism is as much about personal transformation as it is about collective activism”. My initial understanding of Craftivism was that it encompasses political protest, but now I firmly believe that Self Care and Care for Others is as radical and as necessary as expressing our political, social, or environmental concerns. You can’t give from an empty cup, and caring for ourselves and those around us is a prerequisite for going out to change the world.

Pocket of Self Care, 2025
What to do when I’m feeling fragile . . . . .

When running a workshop I love the excitement and challenge of many people creating, and to help them figure out how to make their ideas into a unique piece of art work.

Besides sewing, we use vintage typewriters to make our pockets.

As ever, I am always blown away by the breadth and depth of creative expression from workshop participants. People made what matters to them. I always feel so privileged to share in this, and honoured to have made the space possible.

find your way

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I’ve recently circled back to the labyrinth. 

A labyrinth is a powerful symbol of returning to your center,  to the heart of what matters.

When l am not at ease, l tend to flail around and try to find focus in a goal or succor in an activity.  It is so powerful to stop and take a breath and ground.  To find my way to the heart of what is troubling me.  To sit with whatever is, be it pain or fear or emptiness.

This seems antithetical to my fixit, solution seeking brain.

I found a 15 x 15 cm finger labyrinth that l made as a workshop sample a few years ago.  Made from 100% wool felt using reverse applique, it is a thing of beauty and a joy to hold.

Tracing my finger along the path stills my mind and brings me to my center just as walking a labyrinth does.

I picked up a needle and thread and stitched my way along the path. No decisions to make or potential wrong turns.  

One stitch at a time, one step at a time, finding my way.

find your way,  2025

“A maze is designed to make you lose your way, while a labyrinth is designed to help you find your way.” – Lauren Artress

Prayer Beads

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To sew is to pray. Men don’t understand this. They see the whole but they don’t see the stitches. They don’t see the speech of the creator in the work of the needle. We mend. We women turn things inside out and set things right. We salvage what we can of human garments and piece the rest into blankets. Sometimes our stitches stutter and slow. Only a woman’s eyes can tell. Other times, the tension in the stitches might be too tight because of tears, but only we know what emotion went into the making. Only women can hear the prayer.                                                           
― Louise Erdrich, Four Souls. 

I recently learned to make fabric beads in an online workshop called REMNANT GEMS with Victoria Gertenbach. It’s so simple: fabric, thread, and a needle. Each one takes about an hour to make.

I had been reeling over the past several days from the news headlines. On Sunday, I made a little fabric bead in my favorite color combination. Warm yellow and orange fabric, and cool blue thread.

I was surprised/not surprised at the profound meditative peace that came through the making of it. It was so relaxing to still my shattered mind and let my hands, needle, fabric, and thread work their magic.

From choosing and cutting the fabric and thread, the simplicity of threading my needle and moving it through the cloth, the stillness of my mind that comes through the intense concentrated focus of each stitch.

All I have to decide is what colors sing to me.

This is truly medicine for my soul. So much so, that I have renamed these ‘prayer beads’.

Oklahoma Odysey

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This spring, I had an incredible experience in Oklahoma. Here are a couple of art and academic highlights.

I was juried into the 4th Annual Mvskoke Art Market.  I’ve been sending artwork to Oklahoma for the past several years and this was a milestone for me to be with my artwork in the Muscogee Nation. 

  • My Booth at Mvskoke Art Market

My art quilt Pelofv won First Place in the Non-wearable Textile category.

  • Pelofv :: woods with a river running through them

My art quilt Edge Dancer was acquired by the Nation for their new Citizen’s Services Building which will open in Spring 2026.  The building will be filled with artwork made by Muscogee Artists.

  • With the architects for the Muscogee Nation Citizen’s Services Building
  • Edge Dancer

My artist’s statement for Edge Dancer:


“Being a Mvskoke Citizen who lives beyond the reservation,
I have my own perspective on what it means to be Mvskoke.
“Este Mvskvlke Owis :: I am Mvskoke”
no matter where my feet take me.”

Besides having my artwork recognized by my Nation, it was so meaningful to talk about my work with Native visitors to my booth.  They related to and resonated with so much of what my artwork speaks about, sharing their own stories and those of their parents and grandparents.

I was proud also to receive my certificate in the Mvskoke Language after three years of studying online with the College of the Muscogee Nation.

  • College of the Muscogee Nation
    2025 Commencement Ceremony
    Rebecca Nagle (Cherokee), the Commencement Keynote Speaker
    Dr. Monte Randall (Mvskoke), President of the College of the Muscogee Nation

I was inducted into the Phi Theta Kappa honor society which is based on community college students’ academic achievement.

At the graduation ceremony, I met my Mvhayv (Teacher) Norma Marshall in person for the first time.

Ms. Marshall reflected that I had really worked hard to earn my Certificate. This was a difficult undertaking, not only because the Mvskoke language is difficult to learn.  During my studies I was keenly aware that I had ‘forbidden’ words and sounds in my mouth.  Words that my dad and grandmother would have been punished and shamed for speaking.

I still feel very much a beginner on my journey to reclaim my Native tongue. I look forward to deepening my learning and to begin writing poetry and prose in Mvskoke, and incorporating it into my artwork.

As I continue to reflect on my trip back to my Nation, I am aware that the experience has embedded my roots deeply into the ground of my Indigeneity. I feel nurtured and nourished and that I have truly arrived at a place that I set out to find nearly 20 years ago when I began my Muscogee Journey.

This journey continues because this journey never ends, with countless other journeys to explore along the way.

Bathed in grief

/ Melinda / 3 Comments

Today is the day that my mother died 45 years ago.

This day is always different.  I am always different.

Yesterday I thought about the shape of my life and how her early absence has shaped me.

At the age of 16, l dealt with something l couldn’t understand. 

Death. A permanent absence. The end of a life.

The loss of my mother.

She told me once before she got cancer that she believes we choose our family members before we are born, that we choose the opportunity for the experience of a certain life. 

As l put soap on a sea sponge, lathered and rinsed my body with ladles full of warm water, l found myself wishing that l could have bathed my mom when her body was so fragile at the end of her life.

Today something inside of me is larger, a shape has opened up inside of me to hold this great loss with a deeper understanding and compassion than l have ever been capable of.

To bathe the wounds of grief.

Dawning of a New Day

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Once upon a time . . . . .

Once upon a time, in a world before Facebook and smartphones, I was a semi-regular blogger who took all of my photos with a digital camera.

I don’t need to tell you what happened next, but I can report that I am less than smitten with Ol’ Zuck since he decided to stop fact-checking on Meta.

So today I’m kickin’ it old skool and writing a blog post using a photo I took with my Panasonic Lumix DMC-G7.

I removed the Facebook app from my phone yesterday. I’m here to tell you that my left thumb constantly goes to the place where it was. I still can access FB on my laptop and to be honest its kind of a treat to log on once a day and see what’s been up.

Who knows? This could be my first step in moving completely away or just a move to give myself some clarity. It feels good and TBH the photo taken on my camera is much better than the one on my phone.