|photo by steve metz tara h. and the tools of her trade|
There is a history of farming on the paternal side of my family. While I have never milked a cow before dawn or ridden a tractor into the glow of a setting sun there is another feeling which I have experienced. Each time I'm on a farm, I feel a soulful, intuitive tug. It's a melancholy sort of feeling. It doesn't matter whose farm it is, or what they're growing or tending to: I just end up with this slightly sad longing in my chest: my gut. This feeling comes from my blood, from a part of my own past which existed long before I did, from people who lived and died before I was even born, but whose hopes and aspirations are somehow in me.
A similar feeling must launch seamstress, Tara H, into her Blue Ash sewing studio each morning. To hear Tara tell it, she has generations of her family articulating through her fingertips, and they won't stop.
|photo by steve metz vintage machine|
When this child becomes an adult, she will feel so driven to create, in this vein of heritage, that she will name her products, Robot Inside. The quirky owls and the lovable monsters, which she imagines and then stitches into existence, will be born of an internal mechanism which is always running and which will outlast even the most industrial sewing machine. It's the gift of lineage, a DNA imprint, a natural selection into a creative passion.
|photo by steve metz tara h., owls a-danglin'|
|photo by steve metz owl, hooot hooot|
Tara received this gift once, and I'm sure she'll give it back too. For that, and for the lovely things she makes with her hands, I'm very happy that she's a citizen of Porkopolis.
|photo by steve metz owl too, hooot hooot|
Tara's going to have a booth at Arnold's, downtown. Click here for information.
Tara's Etsy store, where you can purchase lovely things: