The Art of Making: A Reflection on My Conversation with Sarah Lyte of Seven Hands
Some conversations linger in your mind long after they’ve ended, shaping the way you see your own creative journey. My recent discussion with textile artist Sarah Lyte was one of those. As we explored themes of creativity, resilience, and authenticity, I found myself reflecting not just on her words, but on my own experiences as a maker.
Sarah cuts through the noise much of which comes with artistic pursuits-doubts, the need for external validation, and pressures of commercialism-to the core of what really is important: making. "For me, the making is important," she told me. "The selling is just a by-product." In a world where every passion seems to be sold on its marketability, her approach feels refreshingly pure. Yet she realises she has to sell her art to survive, and approaches her work as a matter of organic, spontaneous creative development, rather than as the result of a preconceived career plan. "Each year I push myself in a slightly different way," she said. "I build on what I did before."
That organic growth—allowing creativity to unfold without force—feels rare in a society obsessed with productivity and success. But Sarah’s words reminded me that true art thrives in authenticity. “If you want to be an artist, you have to be true to yourself,” she said. “Anything less than that doesn’t come across as you.”
The surprises of the artistic process came into our conversation. I've worked with upcycled materials for so long now that rather than being surprised, I allow it. Not every project does, but some have this magic moment where you think, okay, this has come into form. It is less about surprise and more about trusting the journey.
Her father was an imaginative collector, repurposing discarded objects, while her mother was an astute observer of details. This combination of curiosity and deep observation has defined Sarah's artistic voice. From childhood declarations of becoming an artist to her present work with textiles, her journey has been one of instinct and evolution.
This discussion reminded me of the reason I create-not for the end, but for the process. The making, the drive to evolve, embracing the unexpected-this is what art is.
Creativity Beyond Art: A Way of Thinking
One of the most striking parts of our conversation was Sarah's perspective on creativity: It isn't just about art, she insists. "Everyone thinks you have to be artistic to be creative, but that's utter nonsense," she said. "Creativity is everywhere, in everything.
This resonated deeply with me. We often box creativity into the realms of painting, sculpture, or textiles, but in reality, it’s in problem-solving, research, storytelling, and the way we navigate the world. It’s a process, not just an outcome, and Sarah embodies that philosophy in her own work.
As we spoke about creative process, Sarah touched on one thing with which I think so many artists - and non-artists - identify: the need for space. "You can't create without space," she said. "It doesn't work. I need peace, quiet, and space.
That quiet, however, does not always mean silence. She often listens to the radio while she works, but in the background, almost as though it's part of the atmosphere rather than something she's actively engaging with.
Interesting to hear, she refers to entering "autopilot mode" when she is creating. She referred to it almost like an out-of-body experience, where the body takes over while the mind steps aside. And I could totally understand what she was meaning. So many of us, if we truly are in a thing that we absolutely love, become unaware of time and let the process engulf us. It's within that space, magic happens.
The Story Behind Seven Hands
I was particularly curious about the name Seven Hands—it felt deeply symbolic. Sarah shared that it was inspired by prehistoric cave paintings, specifically a group of seven handprints found in the Lascaux Caves in France. These prints, believed to be from a family unit, represent a connection through time, a silent yet powerful message left behind.
"I love the idea that you're talking through time to people," she explained. And when you look at her work you can see that influence—the layers of history, the storytelling, the connection to something much bigger than the present moment.
From Teaching to Art: A Leap of Faith
Sarah spent 20 years as a teacher, heading an art department, before taking the leap into full-time artistry. The turning point? A simple but profound question from a student: “Why don’t you sell your art?”
That question stuck with her. She realised she had spent years encouraging other people's creativity and had set her own on the back burner. Burnout followed, and she knew something had to change. She took a bold step: she resigned, gave notice, and opened the floodgates to her own creativity.
And when she did? It was like a dam bursting. "It just poured out of me," she said. "I couldn't keep up. It was like everything that had been held back for years was finally free."
The Evolution of a Creative Journey
Interestingly, though she is a textile artist today, the medium of fabric wasn't originally hers. She started with sculpture because of the three-dimensional aspect. As time went on, she experimented and explored, landing into textiles—though, as she can well attest, she rarely knows what a piece will become as she starts.
Her practice is intuitive: she gathers the materials, puts them together, and allows the work to evolve. "The colour is chosen, and on it goes," she said, "but I don't feel like I'm making the decisions-my hands just do it.
That instinctive feeling of creating is what really inspired me. There's something to be learned from it for us all-sometimes we just don't need to overthink things, and rather we should just allow the process to take its course.
A Life Shaped by Curiosity
Sarah is one of those people who have an infectious enthusiasm for life and all the creative things in it. She describes herself as "the nosiest person in the world"-forever observing, collecting, absorbing. Whether it is textures in nature, objects in people's homes, or the way light hits a surface, she's always taking in inspiration.
And in that, I saw a reflection of my own habits-taking endless photos, noticing details others might miss, and holding onto that sense of childlike wonder.
Treasures in Unexpected Places and the Art of Upcycling
Upcycling-not a practice, but a philosophy-was an interesting take by her in this discussion. The way she sees discarded materials and sees possibility is really inspiring. It reminded me that creativity is not just about making something beautiful; it is about seeing potential where nobody else does.
Sustainability is right at the heart of what Sarah does. Materials are sourced from everywhere: charity shops, market stalls, and even donations from people who simply want to see their unused fabric find a new purpose. As she spoke, I could hear the ring of genuine excitement in her voice when she described receiving two entire dustbin bags full of wool from a generous supporter or the vibrant offcuts of dance costumes, she receives from Caz who sells at Hebden Bridge Rag Market.
And then there's the magic of those completely unexpected finds—things that others might dismiss as unusable. One of the best examples she shared was a bizarre brown, wiggly lace garment she spotted in a charity shop. While most would have passed it by, Sarah saw something different. Instantly, she knew that it would make amazing owls, and it did.
This is, for me, the essence of upcycling: giving materials not only a second life but finding beauty in the first place in what everybody else would overlook.
A Culture of Sharing and Reuse
As we were discussing repurposing materials, we found ourselves reflecting on how common it used to be. We remembered that growing up, community swap events, church sales, and hand-me-downs were simply a way of life. There was no stigma attached to it-it was just how things were done.
Sarah spoke with real passion about the way artists are rediscovering this culture of sharing today. She often passes on materials she can't use herself to other artists and, in return, receives materials that might be just perfect for her projects. One of her favourite examples was a stash of Denholm velvet-an exquisite fabric no longer in production. She didn't have a use for it, but she knew another artist who would.
Then, of course, there's Hebden Bridge's Rag Market-the upcycler's dream. Twice a year, makers and artists get together to swap and sell off the things they don't need anymore. Sarah described it like being a kid in a candy store, rummaging through piles of fabric, lace, and wool, searching for the next unexpected treasure. I could almost feel in her words the thrill of the hunt-the excitement of knowing that just the right material is out there, waiting to be found.
This cycle of giving, receiving, and reimagining keeps resources in circulation reduces waste, and builds community. It is a reminder that sustainability is not just people making individual choices in isolation; it is about people working together to make small, meaningful changes.
Quality Over Quantity
One of the things that impressed me most during our conversation was how much Sarah appreciated quality materials. Living in a world that is filled with fast fashion and disposable goods, she holds an entirely different mind. "I believe in using high-quality materials," she told me. "There's a vast difference between well-crafted fabric and something mass-produced for a quick sale.
She sources wool from small producers who truly care about the process. One of the women she purchases from has a chicken that resides in her studio—further testament to how personal and handmade her materials can be. With Sarah, the work is not only in creating art, but also in showing respect for the origins of such materials.
As I listened, I couldn't help but reflect on how so often we take the easy option over quality. Be it in clothes, furniture, or art, we're taught to take the cheapest price over craftsmanship. But as Sarah pointed out, investing in well-made materials makes all the difference-not just in the final product, but in the connection we have to the things we create.
The Problem with Fast Crafting
Another not-so-pleasant topic that came into our conversation related to the art of crafting as well: mass-produced imitations. I talked about this interesting artist who produces exquisite mice in clothes. Her idea was copied and then given out for sale as some low-budget craft DIY kits. Then people soon find out that the materials were very poor quality, and this would not give them a real result, resembling the original prototype.
This mass reproduction devalues the work of the real artists. Instead of appreciating those who put their time and passion into what they do, people often end up with cheap imitations devoid of heart and craftsmanship compared to the original work.
Sarah shared my frustration, and I totally understood why. If we want to support real artistry, we need to be mindful of where we spend our money. Investing in handmade, thoughtfully crafted pieces isn't just about owning something unique-it's about supporting the people who create with integrity. Often spending years on developing design concepts. It is not flattery when it’s stolen!
Recognition and the Long Road to Success
Despite the challenges of being an independent artist, Sarah’s dedication has paid off. One of the most exciting moments in our conversation was when she talked about being named one of the top 50 artists on Folksy. “I was stunned,” she admitted. “Even more shocking—I later found out I was ranked 28th!”
What struck me most was how long it took her to get there- not in a negative way, but in a "real" way. She's been selling on Folksy for nine years, and the first two years were a slow grind. "It took me two years just to sell my first hundred items," she said. "Artists aren't always natural sellers, and navigating social media and online platforms can be overwhelming.
I found this really refreshing to hear. So often, we only see the success stories-the artists who "make it" overnight, it seems. But the reality is so different. It's one of those trial-and-error processes, learning how to market yourself, pushing through moments of self-doubt.
That was until October, when Folksy made her Artist of the Month. Overnight, it seemed, her carefully planned months of Christmas stock sold out. Suddenly, she had nothing left to take to her upcoming events. It was a whirlwind experience, exhausting yet exhilarating, and proof that perseverance really does pay off.
The Balance Between Passion and Practicality
One of the most interesting parts of our conversation was the fine line between making art for love and making it for profit. Some artists make what sells, their work informed by trends. Others, like Sarah, create because they simply must. "I have no choice," she said. "Making art is like breathing for me."
That is not to say that she rejects any need for strategy: for those wanting to earn an income through their craft, she underlines the necessity for research, or at least the need to know your markets, and test the approaches. Yet, she does caution against loss of self along the way: will you like something if it sells, is it still yours?
Play's Role in Creativity
I really loved this part when Sarah was talking about playing in our chat. This is one of those things beaten out of us as we age by expectation and judgment from each other. Thus, the work that she facilitates in workshops through this very gentle and profound setup: "Your adult selves are out the door, and you are going to be five years old and you're going to play.
What a freeing concept-to make without judgment, to make without concern as to its being "good" or "right." Through workshops, Sarah returns the participant to that freedom. She shared with me the story of an 82-year-old woman who was nervous about making something new even though she had sewn her entire life. By the end, as she was fully engaged in the process, the joy in making became an end unto itself.
And isn't that what creativity should be? Not just a quest for that perfect end result, but the process itself—a tactile sensation of hands moulding something, of an idea taking shape.
Words for the Budding Maker
Near the end of our discussion, I asked Sarah what she would say to those who feel daunted at the prospect of starting a craft—because of a perceived lack of aptitude, of time, or of materials. Her response was remarkably straightforward yet deeply insightful:
1. Start small. You don't have to invest in tons of materials; just start with what you have.
2. Find community. Workshops, online groups, and local craft fairs are great ways to get connected.
3. Be easy on yourself. Let go of the pressure to be perfect. Play. Experiment. Give yourself permission to make mistakes.
One thing that came through was her focus on process, not product. "This is the first time you've ever done this," she says to her workshop participants. "So be nice to yourself." That's something we could all learn---not just about art, but about life.
The Beauty of Imperfection
Sarah told me a story that made me smile. She once tried to make a felt pumpkin, and-by her own account-it was terrible. "I mean, I'm sorry, but you should have seen this pumpkin," she laughed. "It wasn't really pumpkin-y at all." But she didn't stop there. She made another. Then a Christmas tree. Each time, she improved a little.
That's the magic of practice, of persistence. It is so easy to compare ourselves to the polished, curated images online and feel discouraged. As we pointed out earlier, though, many of those "perfect" craft kits are created by artists with decades of experience. Your version of something is uniquely yours, and that's what makes it special.
Final Thoughts: The Courage to Create
Sarah's story reminds us that creativity is not a luxury but a necessity. It requires space, freedom, and sometimes the courage to leave behind what no longer serves us. Her transition from teaching to full-time artistry wasn't easy, but it was essential. The result? Work that is rich, layered, and bursting with life-a testament to the power of following one's passion.
To the budding creators among us, the advice would go this way: don't stop. Success will not happen overnight, but every step forward will count. Be it upcycled material work, brand building, or plain experimentation-trust the process. Stay connected-to your fellow artist, to the materials, and to the pure joy of creation. Because at the end of the day, it is not just about making something new; it's about seeing the potential in the unexpected and giving forgotten things a second chance.
Our conversation reminded me again why we create-not for the sales or the recognition, even though those are nice when they come-but for the process: the joy of transformation, the thrill of finding the perfect material, the satisfaction of shaping something with our hands.
In a world that speaks to speed, convenience, and mass production, artists like Sarah remind us that there is another way. A way that values quality over quantity, sustainability over waste, and authenticity over trends. Creativity is an act of seeing potential-whether in a discarded fabric, a forgotten technique, or an unfolding artistic journey.
Just as Sarah had once been inspired by others, now she is teaching and sharing her skills to continue the joy of making, that beautiful creative cycle that keeps on growing and finding new hands.
And if you've ever had the tugging in your soul to make, be it painting, sewing, felting, or something else, take this as your cue to get going. Have fun. Mess it up. Go easy on yourself. Above all, cherish the process. Creativity is your lifelong partner; let it guide you onto surprising and fantastic adventures.
That for Sarah remains an unfolding tale, piece of fabric by piece of fabric.
Sally Bonnie
You can find Sarah in these spaces:
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/sevenhandsdesigns
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sevenhandsdesigns/?hl=en
Tiktok: https://www.tiktok.com/@sarahsevenhands?lang=en