Of Grief and Textiles

This year has been a whirlwind of grief and heartache for most people. I've been feeling it more sharply lately than I care to admit. The stacks of grief have become higher and more acute than I am used to and the combination of what we are experiencing globally, the recent death of a close friend, and the now possible loss of the only place I have ever called home to the Colorado wild fires has shed light on coping mechanisms that I wasn't aware I had.

I have always been comfortable with Death. They are an old friend who visits from time to time, always leaving hand in hand with a loved one. However this year it feels as though Death is more of a permanent resident than occasional visitor. They have set themselves in my favorite armchair with a cup of tea, and are now reading my favorite book. The conversations are no longer "Hi. How have you been?" but "What would you like for dinner tonight?" and "Oh, the dishwasher is clean. If you have time to put them away, that would be lovely." We are roommates now. This is fine.

Death comes in many forms. Not only in the sense of losing a life, but also in the sense of things simply coming to an end. I (along with many others in my community and globally) have experienced both this year. The loss of work, the death of my friend, and honestly the temporary loss of self, have all been an ever present grief. Yet, what is important is how we each in these spaces deal with how the runes have fallen. Admittedly this has not been graceful for me. Grief of any kind can throw me into a pit if I allow it, and that is exactly what I have done. The pit was deep, and I am only just allowing myself to process my losses and claw my way out. I have emerged heartbroken, tearstained, and with metaphorical dirt under my fingernails. It sucks. It's painful. But at least I can see the sun again.

I am learning that in order for me to process my grief, I have to create. From death and decay comes the rebirth of things that can now thrive. So I have taken to illustrating, writing, and at last returning to my needles, thread, and shears. I am pouring the pain and anger I have been holding for the majority of 2020 into textile, word, and paint. I am creating through my grief because I literally have no other option and it is giving Valkyries Wyrd a new life and purpose.

This company was started because I needed to share the art, lore, and histories that make my blood electric and magical with others who are seeking the same. I cannot let her first year become her last. I will not. I have done enough grieving this year, enough crying, enough slogging through the muck that is the start of this new decade to last the rest of it. I still have stories to tell.

Over the next few weeks I will finally start to release the designs that have patiently been waiting to see the light of day. Each will be accompanied by the lore or legend that helped to inspire it, or that itself has inspired. I am expecting textiles to arrive within the coming weeks, and soon this website will have items and services to sell, including garments, ritual items, and rune readings. There is no more waiting for a better time, a less sad time.

So what will I do with Death the Roommate? They are still welcome to sit in my favorite chair and share my tea. We are still old friends, after all. However, I think I might just move the chair next to my work table. That way maybe ... just maybe ... we can continue our conversation about dinner while I cut and stitch my own rebirth.