I fluctuate between grasping at the threads of the past and feeling I should just be in the present. My cultural roots feel eroded away by generations of relocating, as I myself have done, and the "North American Way" of valuing novelty and consumerism over the all else. Flipping through the pages of my journal it is clear that this has been a preoccupation for a long time. I searched the meanings of names and traced my ancestry to distant places. Despite my research, it all seemed elusive and out of my hands. As an artist and craft person I need something to hold on to.

This post is in response to the deeply inspiring one written by ClareArtista titled What are Cultural Roots? a couple weeks ago. Upon reading it so many thoughts rushed into my mind and feelings into my heart. I pulled out my journal and began to formulate this. For a while now I have contemplated sharing my journey in this realm but wasn't sure how as I have not yet arrived at a solid conclusion.

What are my Cultural Roots?

I still don't know.

However, thanks to a very unique familial gathering I do have some images and artifacts that give me a clue.

This is a wallet that belonged to my maternal grandmother who passed away when I was 3 months old. I also have a few pictures of her in the 70's and 80's. She is the lady on the left with the white dress and black shirt. There are other images - all feature Grandma Janet wearing fabulous outfits - but this is the only one where she isn't smoking, drinking, or both.

I treasure this wallet! My mom says that grandma would be very honored that it has traveled with me so far. As it is the only possession of hers passed on to me (my mom has a couple of items, my sister has a beaded cardigan) I try to strike a balance by using it and keeping it safe. So, this is my "good luck" wallet which lives in my ancestral altar but more on that later!

Fabric ~ pieces of tradition that I'm bringing to the future.

A few years ago many mysteries about my maternal line were uncovered when my mom and I were invited to a family reunion. Previous to this event all I knew about my mom's side is that they had been in the country since the 1800s and had immigrated from somewhere in the U.K.

Even more than the names of countries and a tree of last names, I discovered a material culture that has changed my life ever since. Everyone had been invited to bring relics, images, and even clothing from their ancestry. It was a very sweet event that even adopted and step family members were encouraged to join in on.

Mostly there were photos strewn across a table covered in lace. Here are the first ancestors in my lineage to have settled in the Pacific Northwest. This picture was taking in Washington state and later on they moved south to the state of Oregon.

After having moved to Oregon my ancestors stayed for many generations in the country surrounding Portland. They built homes, and wore some really fun outfits:

That is what I most loved. The images of clothing and the actual clothing that was a part of the display. There was even a wedding dress worn by a semi-dilapidated mannequin! One particular item caught my eye. A patchwork sash made with all sort of fabrics, covered with pins and even a pair of embroidery scissors attached by a ribbon:

This all happened in 2018. Before than I had an interest in knowing about where my ancestors came from. But now, I wonder more about what they did, how they got along in life, and more than anything about the things they made.

Upon returning home I began to learn to sew and quickly acquired my first ever sewing machine and began to create. And as my skills are so very basic, I started with something I have seen in so many antique stores over the years, a tradition that feels very ancestral and practical all at once. I began quilting!

This is my memory quilt, an ongoing project I imagine will take years. So far I have been going through my scrap pile and picking the most memory filled pieces from my travels and sewing projects. Due to writing this article I feel like I should add items from my family, now that all my biological grandparents have passed on, I feel like it is a perfect time to honor them by including them in something so personal.

Ancestral Altar ~

As a pagan person trying her best to live seasonally it is sort of a given to celebrate the Day of the Dead, or Día de los Muertos as it is called in Spanish-speaking America where I now live. It has been such a helpful practice of taking a couple of days out of the year to remember my ancestors, lost loved ones, passed on friends and pets too. I create a space for them in my house, put up their pictures and make bouquets with plants I think they like.

This is the place where the loose threads of ancestry and culture lost begin to be woven into something more cohesive. Even beyond the days surrounding October 31s to November 2nd, I sometimes open up my box of images and memories and with time hope to add to that box new discoveries and items of my own creation. In this way I am living and making tradition.