Backstory

I took up sewing as a profession after a near-death car accident and coma. I had severe pain in my neck, face, skull and brain, cognitive challenges and post-concussive symptoms, could barely stand for more than a couple minutes and it was becoming excruciating to use my arms or my hands. So I knew it was going to be a tall order and push me to the very edge to sit and sew in a furniture factory for 9-10 hours a day. But I had long dreamt of being able to develop my skills as a seamstress, was facing the mind-bending reality that my growing disabilities left me nearly unemployable, and I was exhausted by the anxiety of living in “survival” – not knowing how I was going to continue to provide myself. So I decided, “come hell or high water”, I would see it through. Not just the job, but mastering the skill of sewing on an industrial machine.

My sewing station was also right next to the department where the textiles were cut – which I had to walk through to get to the restroom. And I will never forget the day, nor the textile that was being cut, that began to turn everything around for me …

It was a fine French velvet that looked like it had been painted with muted and fluorescent water colors – whimsical and abstract landscape and floral designs. I’d never seen anything like it. And as I walked by mesmerized, I couldn’t help myself from stopping and picking up a scrap to admire it more closely.

The company I sewed for made high-end designer furniture – where exquisite textiles from all over the world arrived daily.

And my exposure to and collecting of their remnants became a constant source of inspirational fuel for my creative Spirit-spark – keeping it burning brightly enough to compensate for the most horrific year of my injury recovery and rehabilitation process.

I would curate and collect remnants throughout the week, engage my imagination while I sewed … and spend my weekends executing, passionately designing, drafting patterns and moonlighting my own products … preparing to once again be independent with my own business.

While I was over-joyed and beyond blessed to have free access to all the exquisite textile remnants, it was heart-breaking to watch the unconscionable waste produced day in and day out. All the precious and finite resources haphazardly going into the trash – imagining the environmental impact of it all getting buried in and further poisoning life and our sacred planet.

I had learned about the enormous waste that the textile industries generated during an industrial training program I’d taken through the Carolina Textile District. But it was none the less shocking to witness the catastrophe firsthand. Seeing it was devastating and beyond my comprehension. It ate at me from the inside-out.

What was just as shocking to me was that I was the only person who seemed to notice and thought anything of it. In fact I was looked at strangely by my fellow employees for wanting to preserve and take remnants, and often did so feeling “self-conscious” about it.

I’ll never forget one day finding almost an entire animal hide had been discarded – so large that I was able to make a long Victorian style over-coat with it.

We have reached the end of the road as a species with our unconscious and wasteful consumption habits. Our ancestors were so wise in their comprehension that their choices would impact the next seven generations – making decisions in earnest consideration of that undeniable truth.

Our children are inheriting a world where their basic right to enjoy health is tenuous because the air, water, soil and food supply alone are so poisoned. And we each have choice in the contribution we make to the ultimate reality they will face.