Polly James Stidum with grandchildren
“It takes a village” is a phrase that often comes to mind when thinking about personal development. Where would anyone be without his or her family or community? We need it apparently and I feel like in my case, it has taken just that to reach only my place of authenticity. Sometimes it even takes a lifetime of “raising,” supporting or nurturing to get there, just so that you can continue to do or be that person.
It begins with immediate family and then you realize that there were people before them, and so not only is it immediate family, but ancestry that also participates. So ultimately, it’s an ongoing flow. One can only select what seems to be influence, but then again, you can’t really be sure. On looking back though, there do seem to be roots whether they were really meant to be or not. Perhaps it doesn’t matter, just that they lived and in doing so taught, influenced and handed down.
One of my ancestors was Polly James Stidum. My paternal grandmother often told stories of her and finally one day when her sister visited (during college days) we sat and recorded their stories. It’s all I have and it’s limited. The rest I have to imagine from researching her environment and history of the times. I’ll never really have the complete story.
The above shows her with my grandmother (the little girl at her knee) and her other grandchildren (my great uncle and aunt).
At any rate, my grandmother says that my great-great grandmother was a “very pioneering woman” in that she grew her own flax and wool, carded and spun them for weaving. She had a loom in her kitchen-living room from which she wove clothing for her family.
What intrigues me most is that she wove a coverlet and the colors she used are the same as the ones that I put in my own work.
I don’t know where her deep blues came from. It seems to me though, that when I look deeply into her threads, they are as deep and rich as any indigo.
糸で/ Ito de/ By Thread 
