What Indigo Taught Me About Honoring the Ancestors
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Hello Reader, June came in swinging. The first weekend of the month, I found myself in the Catskills at an Indigo Batik workshop led by Yu of Yu's Indigo, and honestly, I wasn't prepared for how much it would move me. Yu taught us the Chinese method of batik using a wax knife, a small, elegant tool that feels deceptively simple until you're holding it over fabric and suddenly every mark matters. Before we ever picked it up, she walked us through the history of indigo, and that history is vast. Indigo isn't one culture's story. It belongs to South Carolina, Peru, Nigeria, Indonesia, India, China. What connects them all? The Indigofera tinctoria plant, true indigo thrives in hot, tropical climates, and so does the tradition built around it. The day moved at a beautiful pace. Introductions, history, demonstration, then practice. My goal was simple: get familiar with the tool. Learn how to pull a line, close a circle, feel the rhythm of it. I wasn't there to make something perfect, and as Yu reminded me, that's kind of the whole point. This art form asks you to embrace the imperfections. The wax moves the way it moves. You learn to work with it, not against it. It was deeply meditative. I could have sat there drawing for hours. Yu told us the longest she's ever batik'd in a single stretch was 8 a.m. to 11 p.m. I believe it. And then there's the part I want to sit with for a moment. During the dyeing process, I made a deliberate choice: Not to wear gloves. Most of the other participants did. But I knew what the blue hands meant, and I needed to feel it. On South Carolina plantations where indigo was produced, enslaved women did not have the luxury of gloves. Their hands stayed blue for months, working through the hottest, most brutal months of the year, processing a plant that made other people wealthy. When I lowered my hands into that dye bath, I wasn't just learning a technique. I was making an acknowledgment. A small, quiet act of witness. I was honoring the ancestors who built this history with their bodies. Indigo will be finding its way into my practice. I'm carving out time each week to keep working with it slowly, intentionally, the way it deserves. Something is always becoming. So are you. What's On My Shelf?Let's Be Social| Facebook | Website | Subscribe/Share Support The Studio LedgerEvery stitch, story, and reflection shared here takes time, care, and love. If you’ve enjoyed today’s issue, here are a few ways to support The Studio Ledger and help this creative garden continue to grow: Share the Newsletter - Forward this email to a friend, artist, or collector who’d enjoy a window into the studio. Word of mouth helps the most. Follow Along - See works-in-progress, new installations, and studio life on Instagram @lisasandersonstudio. Your support, whether through a kind word, share, or subscription, keeps this creative rhythm alive. Thank you for being part of the circle. |