My Story
May we raise children
who love the unloved
things–the dandelion, the
worms and spiderlings.
Children who sense
the rose needs the thorn
& run into rainswept days
the same way they
turn towards sun…
And when they’re grown
and someone has to speak for those
who have no voice
may they draw upon that
wilder bond, those days of
tending tender things
and be the ones.
Nicolette Sowder
I was born and spent my young years in Ukraine. I learned my skill from my mother, just like she learned from hers. My fascination with old tapestries goes way back and rooted in my childhood memories of grandmas house in thriving and busy Ukrainian settlement Pokrovs’ke where stucco walls were hung with religious icons, darkened paintings, and tapestry wall hangings. It almost felt like leaving the wall naked was a sin, and a naked floor was another one. We usually would get to grandmas late at night and I'd be asleep after long car ride and in the morning I open my eyes to a riot of images dancing across the walls, overlooked by solemn saints in their gilded frames, with dried bunches of fragrant flowers tucked behind them. Childhood memories, a fairytale, a dreamer’s dream. Sometimes if you're just lucky enough you get to take them with you through the years.