On Making Something With Holes in It
Filed under: Structure, Space, and What Still Holds
Crochet is, at its simplest, the art of making something out of loops — which is to say, not-whole things.
You pull a thread through emptiness.
You connect it to another emptiness.
And somehow, what you’re left with is a blanket. A scarf. A soft little square that holds your coffee mug like a second, quieter saucer.
It shouldn’t work, really.
Holes are not known for being reliable.
But crochet reminds us that sometimes the spaces are the point.
A shawl breathes because of its gaps. A doily rests lightly because it doesn't try to be solid. Even the warmest blanket has tiny windows where the cold could come in — and yet, you sleep.
We’re taught to admire the tight-knit things. Seamless. Complete. Dense with effort. But there is beauty in the lacework, too — in the light that passes through.
To make something with holes in it is to admit you are not trying to keep everything out.
It is a quiet invitation:
Here is what I’ve made. And here is where the world may touch it.
Gaps are not failures.
They are part of the pattern.
A space for stretch. For breath. For change.
You can be wrapped in something full of holes
and still feel held.
Lady Bergamot
You Might Also Love…
More from The Curio Cabinet…
We picked over 32 quarts of black raspberries in one week, racing the rain from a hurricane on the way. It was hot, it was tedious, and my little brother mostly just snacked, but we got it done.