Hooray for the Fiber Artists of Hippiedom!

Over the past fifteen years or so, it’s been very fashionable to dismiss the fiber work from Hippiedom. “It’s crude,” the pundits write. They claim the handspun yarn is too thick and the weavings are too bulky. And the macrame plant holders – oh, those come in for great derision. And even within the past year, when hippie fashion had been making a comeback and some craft people have started writing books about those good old times, the projects are so smooth they almost slide off the page.

So what do we have instead? Technique, lots and lots of technique. And gloss. Plenty of gloss. And let’s not forget professionalism – there’s gobs of money in them there fiber galleries.

I have nothing against technique and gloss and professionalism. And I think it’s great that people are able to make money from their fiber work.

But with all this technique and gloss and professionalism, something is being crowded out. Call it heart or soul or spirit, it’s the life force that still sings from those pieces from Hippiedom, that still sings even from the photographs of those pieces, so many years later.

Now, I don’t want to copy any of those pieces, any more than I want to copy a Kaffe Fassett sweater. But when I’m tired or uninspired or slicked out, I go to my collection of hippie books for a transfusion of energy.

Because that’s what the fiber folks of the ’60’s and ’70’s gave us, their energy. It’s the energy to re-discover the great fiber crafts and then make them our own. Technique and gloss and professionalism and even slickness have their place, but when you’re totally involved in making something for the marketplace, or for a juried show, or even for a guild meeting – when you’re totally involved in making something for outside approval – how are you going to take the necessary chances to make your work sing?

I may think of myself as an artist, and I may have a fine time making things, but I also know that I’m not making museum-quality work. Not even book-quality work.

That’s not the point. The point is that when I’m making something, I’m not thinking about how anyone is going to judge it – I’m not even thinking about how I’m going to judge it. I’m too busy making it.

And that’s what the fiber folks of Hippiedom have given me – the courage to let go, to immerse myself totally in the process, to forget about everything and everyone.

Crude? No way.

Try lively. Robust. Joyous.

Try Thank you.