There have been many books and people whom have informed the basis of my thoughts about this subject.  Some which I read many years ago including, the Song Lines by Bruce Chatwin, and I have read avidly and listened to over and over,  Braiding Sweetgrass by Robin Wall Kimmer, To Speak for the Trees by Diana Beresford-Kroeger.  As I read, I make notes and jot down points which resonate with me, and slowly over time this idea of the Language of Baskets has been gathering in my mind.

And then recently I read a social media post by a fellow basket maker who had written about a trip she took to one of the oldest tribal museums in the US.  There was a collection of 18th century baskets and the display talked of the Language of Basket Stamping.  This was a technique of stamping patterns on to the exteriors of baskets to tell stories of everyday life and their use of the land.  The ‘language’ of these patterns were such an imbedded part of life that you could detect ‘dialects’ with symbols and patterns varying from community to community. 

I was so taken by this concept; it stopped me in my tracks.  It made me realise that even in these modern times, when we are so often disconnected from our ancestors and a meaningful relationship with the land, each basket my hands create, speaks a story of connection, and that wonderful word, reciprocity. 

Each fibre represents a particular place in the landscape, the pond, ditch, hedge, woods or field it grew in.  Each fibre tells a story, of feet walking over the earth, hands harvesting, minds connecting and all the sensory experiences associated with that particular plant.   The finished basket speaks of an emotional relationship between the weaver and the land. 

They tell a tale of flora and fauna, individuals and community, conversations and intentions and a narrative of the shared spaces we all dwell in. 

Through technique, design and form, they reveal a glimpse of the maker.  They speak of careful harvesting, meticulous processing, thoughtful storing and then the final dance of the hands weaving into pattern and form, the vessel itself. It is a beautiful, intricate language, full of nuance and subtleties.  One I am happy to be able to speak without the need for words. 

I would like to end with sharing a quote with you from Earth Basketry, written by Joesephine Couch Del Deo about her mother, Osma Gallinger Todd, these sentiments which ring so true and clear to me, about my own life and hopefully the childhood I have given my children.

“she made me corn husk dolls, showed me where to position a basket birdhouse; surrounded me with a sense of nature which has remained my sense of place and my sense of myself.  I grew up understanding what handcrafts meant to the totality of man”