/* Style Definitions */
mso-padding-alt:0cm 5.4pt 0cm 5.4pt;
mso-fareast-font-family:”Times New Roman”;
From earlier… after my first visit to Mäpuru
Weaving was a collaboration, a relationship between my gurruṯu (kin) and I. Time disappeared, sitting, watching, slowly observing the differences in each woman’s weaving. At first these differences appeared through patterns and colours and designs. Then the subtle differences emerged… each woman holding a basket in a special way, pulling through a stitch with a different emphasis.
My identity as ‘Nia’ meant so little whilst I was in Mäpuru. Once I was adopted by my yuku yuku (younger sister) and ŋäṉḏi (mother) I was called by my mälk (skin name) Baŋaḏitjan or identified through my kinship relationship to people. As I wove I was being reminded that collective identity and relationship mattered more than the individual. Just as I was getting attached to the colours and design, one of my gurruṯu would take ‘my’ basket in hand and add her own self to it. “Just let go…” was my mantra for the week, because weaving was about my relationships with the women of Mäpuru, not the baskets.