There’s something about the tangible act of creating with your hands that I’ve always found brings a certain stillness and peace to the mind. It’s this quiet creativity that inspired me to write The Lace Maker’s Hands, a story born from memories, and a bit - quite possibly, a lot - of YouTube research on the art of lace making.
As a child, I would sit with my Grandma in our home, fascinated by a photograph of her eldest daughter, wearing a stunning ivory satin and chiffon dress that Grandma had designed and sewn. I was always in awe of its detailed beauty and used to dream of the day when I was old enough for her to make me one, too. Unfortunately, by the time I was old enough, Grandma’s hands had lost the strength and precision they once had, and the dream remained just that - a dream.
But, in writing The Lace Maker’s Hands, I found a way to rewrite history for Grandma and I. Aunty Lizzie, the lace maker in the story, is loosely inspired by my grandmother, though I’m certain she would have some choice words if she knew I’d cast her in one of my stories (we’ll keep that between you and I). Aunty Lizzie’s hands, skilled in their craft, take on a life of their own, weaving intricate patterns of lace just as my Grandma’s hands once did with fabric. In the story, I wanted to capture the patience and love, that I know goes into creating something so delicate.
The process of writing this sleepy tale was much like lace making itself. I don’t know much about the actual craft, so I found myself watching countless videos just to understand the delicate, rhythmic movements involved. But beyond the technical details, what struck me was the peaceful atmosphere surrounding the act of sewing. It’s that serene, focused energy that I tried to infuse into the story; a quiet, comforting space that invites readers to lose themselves in the gentle flow of Aunty Lizzie at work.
The Lace Maker’s Hands is a story crafted to bring comfort, to wrap you in warmth and slowness, like the lace Aunty Lizzie so delicately weaves. And for me, it’s a small way to give my Grandmother the story she deserved; the one where her hands are still strong, and still creating beauty, one stitch at a time.
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