Hand-working my way out of a future life in a glass box

Since then I have been playing with the ideas of mixing concrete with crochet.

‘Why’ is not important at this exploratory stage (I keep telling myself). The more important question at this point is ‘How?’

How big should the Granny Brick be? How do I turn a four-inch crocheted square into a sizeable building block? How will I achieve the necessary rigidity and tensile and shear strength? How will it look as a cube? How will I attach the bricks?

It’s all hurting my brain, as illustrated here by the figurine — tucked in there to convey scale but I see it works as an emotional statement too.

What is working: the bony concretized stitches, a texture that would not have been conceived via software or traditional building practices but needle-working. I also dig the holes, reminiscent of the human cave dwellings of Cappadocia, Turkey. 

There is a nice dynamic between the loose, radiating pattern framed in by the square. That contained semi-chaos is a recurring theme. (An artist friend recently described my home as ‘organized chaos.’)

Adding the figurine moves the Granny Brick into architecture — a utopian architecture, to my mind: sturdy but organic; designed by humans for human groups in contrast to the individuals in glass boxes of our time and place; unpredictable, interesting environments and interiors full of new/ancient opportunities for individual expression and pre-/post-modern patterns of co-habitation.

Alternative living possibilities have been on my mind a lot lately as I look to the future and see I don’t want to be one of those single old ladies housed in a highrise glass box but part of a diverse community where I have a role, where I am needed if you just whistle or give me a holler from down the winding path. More Hobbit village than Howe Street; more cob house than Concert Properties. Places of activity over busy-ness, connection over distraction.

These kinds of thoughts knit together as I needlework, play with cement, hang out on a slab of sandstone.

This is when the ‘Why’ comes into play, after the ‘How’ is worked out and the time comes to stand back and reflect. This is when connections start to coalesce into a concept.

Why not this, as a new form of built environment?

Why assume that the way it is is the way it has to be?

Why not suggest that giant concretized granny squares are a way in?