What wonderful memories!
Memories are the threads that weave the tapestry of our lives, stitching together the moments that define who we are. From the cherished recollections of childhood innocence to the trials and tribulations of teenage years, to our most recent past, memories serve as our personal time capsules, preserving our experiences and shaping our identities.
I believe that moments in our childhood helped form the person we’ve become. Memories are more than just fleeting glimpses of the past; they are the building blocks of our identities. They provide us with a sense of continuity, connecting our past, present, and future. Whether joyful or painful, memories carry profound emotional weight, influencing our perceptions, decisions, and behaviours.
Why am I talking about this? Well, I’ve been reminiscing while answering some questions posted to me for an online interview. It’s interesting – to me – to see how one question can bring back so many memories. One of the most compelling aspects of memories is their ability to evoke strong emotions. One thought can transport us back in time, eliciting feelings of nostalgia, joy, or even sorrow. These emotional connections enrich our lives, reminding us of who we are and where we come from.
In this case, I was thinking back on my connection to textiles and cloth. And brought back memories of my teenage years. I was into horses and horse jumping. There’s a long season of horse jumping shows in Buenos Aires, Argentina, where I grew up. With my friend Paulina, we would venture Saturdays and Sundays, by bus, train, foot and hitch hike to these shows; some of them hours away. We would wake up and meet around 5:00 a.m. so we could get to the show bright and early. I know what you are thinking – different times. Life was simpler and and safer then.
Anyway, one of such shows, at the military compound, found us early morning sitting on the stands in the sun, watching the athletes and their horses warming up in the centre show ring. What a glorious view! A few hours later, I saw a woman sitting a few rows from where we were. She was sewing something by hand. That caught my attention and I went over to ask her what she was doing. She told me her son was in the competition, and as she travelled to these shows every weekend, she always brought something to do while the competition was taking place. (Paulina and I brought books). What she was doing that day, was English paper piecing small diamond shapes using denim!
I remember going home at the end of the day and telling mom all about it. Of course we had to give it a try. Out came the poster board, ruler, pencil and paper scissors. With lots of care, we cut diamonds, and then found fabric and cut it into shapes leaving seam allowances. Needle and thread? Check! We sat on the couch while dad read his book (no TV at our house), and sewed fabric to paper. And one shape to the other. Doesn’t it sound like bliss? It was. For a short period of time, until I found something else that caught my attention. Years later, clearing out a drawer under my bed, I found those pieces still in the same bag as when I put them away. The sight of those colourful pieces of fabric brought back the sounds of the day: the sun on our faces, and the clopping sound of horses hooves.
I’m a firm believer that the experiences we have during our formative years can spark passions and interests that endure throughout our lives. Whether it’s discovering a love for music, art, or sports, these early pursuits shape our identities and provide us with a sense of purpose and fulfillment.
In my case, as a textile artist, cloth has always been a part of my life. From the time I used to sit on the floor by my mom’s sewing machine and get the scraps of fabric she didn’t need to make ponchos for my teddy bears, to who I am today.
Memories of my grandfather in the warehouse where they stored the rolls of cashmere and woollens they sold. Mom choosing some and my sister and I getting the samples. I close my eyes and I can still smell the fabrics and see the rows upon rows of shelves full of colourful bolts. It makes me miss my grandfather Leon, but oh, those memories! So full of love and warmth!
Memories are the threads that bind us to our past, guiding us as we navigate the complexities of the present and look at the possibilities of the future. Memories are integral to our sense of self. They hold the key to understanding who we are, where we come from, and what we have experienced. Respecting and cherishing these memories allows us to maintain a connection with our past selves, fostering a deeper understanding of our personal identity and values.
Today, I found myself thinking about one moment in time – which in turn, brought to mind memories of my mother and I sharing a quiet moment sewing. Memories of my dad quietly reading his favourite book on World War II while Manchita, the dog, slept at his feet. I remembered Paulina, my best friend from childhood whom I haven’t thought about in years! It made me think of my love of horses and some great adventures at the weekends.
The memory of horse jumping and the adventurous exploration of cloth from long ago may seem disparate at first glance, but upon closer examination, they share a common thread that has woven its way into my present passion as a textile artist. Each piece I create becomes a reflection of the joy of discovery and the beauty found in embracing the unknown. Just as horse jumping propelled me forward with momentum and grace, my passion for textiles moves me to explore new horizons and push the boundaries of artistic expression.
While I reflect on the significance of memories, cherishing the moments that have shaped me, I embrace the journey that lies ahead, knowing that my memories will always be there to guide me home.
Thanks for reading. Until I write again, I hope you think back on some good memories from times past.
Ana
