When we hear the word “craft,” I think we tend to perceive it as negative. My work has often been diminished as a “crafty little business.” We think of “crafting” as child-safe scissors and construction paper, something adults shouldn't waste their time doing.
In the very first workshop I attended at Craftcation, before we even began our punch needle activity, the instructor asked us to pause. “Before we get into the materials in front of you,” they said, “I want everyone to sit in their bodies—feel their bodies for a second.” Then they said something that I have been thinking about ever since.
“Craft is our body's response to materials.”
I didn't know what to expect from Craftcation, but at that moment, I was hooked.

Conferences usually have the mechanical vibe of business cards and blazers—networking and always being “on.” But when I walked into the Marriott in Ventura, California for Craftcation, I felt my body relax as I arrived at something that felt totally new.
In my recent personal life and professional life, I've been growing more and more distant from my craft. It's true, the bigger your business gets, the more you find yourself rooting through emails and sorting through spreadsheets. The creative work starts to feel like a chore, the thing you have to do to grow, not as an artist, but as a business.
As a result, I don't have time to respond to the tactile experience of physical materials. And I have known for awhile that I've been craving a return to this kind of creative practice.
The creative work starts to feel like a chore, the thing you have to do to grow, not as an artist, but as a business.
I led three business workshops at Craftcation and was lucky enough to use the rest of my time to attend other workshops. Leading up to Craftcation, I spent most of my time refining my presentations and preparing professionally. I wasn't really focused on anything else.
In fact, a small part of me worried that I was wasting my time. I thought, why should I spend the time and money to travel to California to take crafting workshops? Will I even learn anything, or just waste time I could be spending on something more productive? But I quickly learned how wrong that was.
It's the satisfaction of completing a process from start to finish. Of surprising yourself, and seeing where the materials lead. It's the complete freedom of making something for the sake of making it.
Every instructor was an expert in their craft. Everyone was a thoughtful leader, walking us through the creative process. The conference was so well organized, it truly felt like a vacation, with no need to worry about the next thing or fret over the agenda. Freedom and structure are so rarely balanced, but both are necessary for creativity and play.
In an onion dying workshop, right before we unrolled our fabric to reveal the dyed patterns and colors, another attendee said “here is the dopamine hit!”
It's the satisfaction of completing a process from start to finish. Of surprising yourself, and seeing where the materials lead. It's the complete freedom of making something for the sake of making it. No quality standards or expectations, only play.
Every person at Craftcation said the word “craft” with the fullness and respect we reserve for things like fine art hanging in museums. It felt affirming. To be in your body, to have the time to exist without purpose and connect with the tangible world around you, is healing. It's a chance to meet yourself where you're at and respond.

I went into this conference diminishing “craft” in the same way others have diminished me and my work. But I left feeling validated, restored and equipped with language that helps me understand my own creative processes.
It might be time to rethink what it means to “waste” time. What if instead, we see crafting as what it is: necessary space for our minds and bodies to wander without expectation and create without boundaries. To recharge on our own terms, and to trust it's what we deserve.

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