
i published my second gathering of Threads of Grief today
the poster i made up in Canva reads: VIRTUAL | FREE | QUEER near the bottom, right above the date and time
but what does this event being queer mean?
first off, i personally identify as queer both from a gender- and sexuality- identity
and the thing i want to make very clear is you don’t have to identify as queer to join. but you do have toaccept and respect queer identities
but that’s not all that makes this event queer
the idea of this event is to create a quiet container for reflection, processing, or simply existing in the space together — with a focus on grief— while engaging in fiber arts
to me, this is subversive of cultural standards of grief, which parallels how many folks define queer
much like queerness itself, grief refuses to be neatly categorized, rushed, or confined to socially acceptable timelines
so instead of ‘grief is only okay in private, behind closed doors, alone. and is something that you process and then move on from’ …
my intention was and is to hold a space where grief is honoured as an ongoing presence (not something to ‘fix’), held in a community of other humans (not alone), and expressed through fiber arts rather than just words (because grief is wild, and wants to be felt & expressed!)
and to me, that’s deeply countercultural & queer
queerness has always existed outside of dominant cultural norms, making it inherently counter-hegemonic (challenging systems of power)
and queer grief especially has not traditionally had open-access spaces to be witnessed or held
because queer loss often exists in the margins, outside traditional family structures or within histories of erasure
i chose fiber arts simply because it’s something that is present for me.
but fiber arts also holds a deep community aspect. historically, it has been a space of shared stories, intergenerational knowledge, and quiet connection. that resonance between fiber arts, queerness, and grief is something I feel in my bones
Threads of Grief resists the idea that grief must be hidden or moved through alone—just as queerness resists the idea that there is one right way to love, live, or belong. if this kind of space calls to you, you are welcome here.