Klowa Art Café

10/04/2023

The memory of Klowa.

I’ve been thinking for a while about this post, about how to explain that Klowa is gone, burned away, but there are these memories of it. That I’m not a poet, not a writer, but there’s this book.

A year ago, I sat on the living room floor and thought I’d write out a memory for a friend. I didn’t know that it would turn into this, the story of the first year after the fire. The story of the loss of Klowa and the loss of our community and the emotional arc of that trauma.

Sharing it still makes me feel vulnerable, because it’s my own story. Intensely personal. But it has already been received with such love and kindness… I can’t explain it.

It has been so healing. Thank you.

- Meghan

09/10/2022

This is goodbye: Klowa’s last post.

14 months have passed since the fire. For me, most of that time has been focussed on survival: single parenting in a burned-up town with minimal services and support, an ongoing unpaid insurance claim, and a lot of struggle.

I haven’t been knitting anymore.

I’m just beginning to process the trauma, and to make decisions for how to move forward. And one of those decisions is to close the (metaphorical) doors of Klowa.

Because of the delays, my insurance policy is no longer enough to rebuild; I’ve known that for a few months. And although I have a sweet little website with the work of local artisans, I don’t have the heart or headspace to put the effort into it that it requires, so I’ll be closing it as well.

Klowa began in 2014 as Lytton Knittin’, a little yarn store on Main Street, and a place to feature my knitting.

I haven’t been knitting. Yesterday, though, I knit this piece, something that has been on my mind since the fire. Smoke, burning hillsides, chaos and destruction. Eight hours of creating, stitch after stitch, with the image burning in my mind.

I haven’t been knitting, but when I finished it, this piece of knitting made me cry big, grief-stricken tears. The release of trauma. The beginning of healing.

And the end of Klowa. Thank you to everyone who supported the space and made it what it was: a vibrant little place in our vibrant little community.

Love to you all,
Meghan

03/23/2022

The irrepressible beauty of spring
♡

12/26/2021

Remembering what was
& wishing you all the best
for what will be.
-Meghan

12/10/2021

Peace: being lost in the act of creating.

For Gene McArthur, pictured, the Lytton fire turned everything upside down. After being evacuated for almost a month, it took another month for him to even consider his craft.

But it is healing to get lost in the process of creation, like when Gene is picking a coin, considering diameter, thickness, metal composition, and quality, before transforming it into a piece of art.

See some of Gene’s beautiful coin jewelry on our website http://klowa.ca/.

Artist:
Photographer: Shelanne Justice Photography

12/05/2021

Some days, we’re strong.

This hat, donated by a stranger, will go to someone who lost her home in the fire.

There have been many generous people, donations, advocacy, support, and that gives us strength.

The trauma is still real, still present, in the wet ashes of our community and the sound of the helicopters, but we’ll stay warm, we’ll stay here, and we’ll get through it.

* * *
On Klowa’s website (http://klowa.ca), there is an option to donate a hat to a Lytton evacuee — knit personally for them, here on the edges of town.

Thank you for sharing your support,

Meghan

12/01/2021

Announcing… a Christmas pop-up shop here in Lytton. ✨

I’d been planning to take Klowa from town to town in the interior, hitting markets and sharing the handcrafts that we’ve been creating, but flooding and highway washouts and school closures and ongoing trauma have all curtailed that plan. Instead, I’ve set up shop at my front door, for those of us who are still here.

We have local honey, jewellery, essential oils, books, basketry, yarn, handknits, houseplants, candles, and more.

Bring a friend and pop by between 12-5 Wednesday to Saturday, from now until Christmas.

127 Kent Road, Lytton (DM me for directions)

Cash, debit and credit all gratefully accepted
Please wear a mask

For those who are out of town, many of the beautiful things are on our website at http://klowa.ca/.

Thank you for your support,
Meghan

PS. Special thanks to Lorna Fandrich for setting up the beautiful display
& to the artisans:
Christine Abbott
Vince Abbott
Rolene Edwards
Andrew Fandrich
Bernie Fandrich
Lorna Fandrich
Richard Forrest
Michael Hill
Kathleen Kinasewich
Gene McArthur
Becky Mundall
Rilan Roziere

11/13/2021

Lytton’s artisans are busy. There are new items up on the website almost daily — as fast as I can take photos with a 5-year-old climbing on my back — like this pictograph pendant from Rilan Roziere.

Rilan lost his home and all his tools in the Lytton fire, so now he’s carving local stone by hand - in a hotel room, armed with just a file.

-Meghan

11/13/2021

Pine needle earrings
by Rolene Edwards

11/09/2021

Art is personal.
Rolene Edwards, pictured, made these pine needle baskets while forced from her home at Nicomen, as it was threatened by the Lytton fire. Weaving was a way to focus, to cope.

And art is communal. Rolene teaches the art of pine needle basketry at knowledge gatherings and local schools, “to share what I know with the people of our nation and surrounding areas.”

Her baskets and pine needle jewellery are up on our website (http://klowa.ca), with more being added later this week.

Artist: Rolene Edwards
Photo: Shelanne Justice Photography

11/01/2021

This is the new Klowa: our online store launched this morning at klowa.ca.

It’s beautiful — I’m so proud of it. Just as I’m proud of the artisans who are still creating, even in this post-fire world, using their art to find a way out of the ashes.

Strength, creativity and resiliency.

I’ll be listing new items daily, and also showing them off at a pop-up shop at Stone Fruit Parlour in Lillooet on Nov 25-26.

The new Klowa. My little house. Photography in the living room, storage in the bedroom, and shipping in the kitchen. And a 5-year-old running through it all.

Thanks go to Shelanne Justice Photography for the stunning photos and to Susie Gay of Studio 2 Design for the perfect website. And to the artisans. And to all of you, for your support.

With love,
Meghan

On June 30, a fire tore through the Village of Lytton and Lytton First Nation, and destroyed everything in its path. The whole community was devastated. But the fire didn’t vanquish Lytton’s artisans. Strong, creative and resilient, we are using art to find our way out of the ashes. >> read more

09/24/2021

This is my goodbye to Klowa.

I was allowed on the sidewalk today, for the first and only time. Three months after the fire, and then never again.

There is nothing left. Only blocks, ash, charcoal. We can’t sift, because half-fallen walls make it too dangerous; and besides, the cinder blocks broke everything they landed on.

But oh, those plants! They survived the heat dome and the fire and three months of being buried and they are still growing, pushing up through the cinder blocks that now pave the courtyard. I saved a hosta, one of the first things I put in that garden. A memory.

So goodbye, Klowa, you beautiful old building. Goodbye to the years of love that went into you through generations, from matriarchs like Joan and Mavis. Goodbye to those years of mine: I’ll remember painting turquoise walls while pregnant and watching Helen take her first steps in the courtyard and bringing her there for a chai after school. Goodbye to that space that seemed to bring in the warmest and most loving locals. Goodbye to the conversations with regulars and the laughter in the kitchen. Goodbye to your ugly parts too, Klowa, your mouldy basement and leaky window and sh*tty back shed.

I’ll miss all of you.

Meghan