Just before the sunrise
Paradisaea n:o 21 // Refined In Fire Collection
490 x 69 cm STIH
Warp: Hand painted mercerized cotton
Weft: Hand dyed pima cotton, dark blueish purple
Woven with a faux crackle type of a fancy twill
Ca. 280 g/sm
They say the night is darkest just before the dawn breaks. There’s a moment, somewhere in the pitch blackness of night, when it feels like the darkness will ever end. Endless, almost hopeless hours, the world lying still and silent, clock ticking so slow you’re close to despair.
In Finnish they call that moment “The Wolf’s Hour”, and there’s something very fitting in it.
Sometimes life stands still, and a shadow is cast over it. Sometimes life may seem to get stuck in the moment, unable to move forward, loaded with something we’d rather not have there, an burden we’d never have chosen ourselves. It may feel dark, and it may feel like the darkness simply never leaves - and there’s nearly nothing we can do about it. We cannot lift the night away, push it away, wish it away. All we can do is to endure it.
just when the hour is the darkest
a miraculous change happens.
Night grows old, gets weary and fragile, starts to fall into pieces. The night is the darkest just before this, before the Sun begins its slow ascent somewhere behind the horizon and inevitably, slowly, surely, the night dies. The night feels darkest just before this turning point. After it light will grow, grow, grow into a full day.
I wanted one of the Refined In Fire pieces to carry a strong message of hope. Sometimes our life is stuck, or partially stuck, in something we’d rather leave behind but cannot. It may be an old feeling, maybe as old as we are. It may be something that happened a year ago. A week ago. Or something we fear might happen. Or it may be something much bigger than we are. A sorrow that will not leave. A memory we cannot forget. Something else. Life is so full of everything and we cannot keep it all together; it’s overwhelming, and sometimes all of it simply crashes on us.
It’s easier to speak of the hardships of life after we’ve overcome them. Sometimes, though, all hardships are not so easy to overcome. Sometimes we cannot do anything about them - just wait. I wanted to give this specific wrap a strong message of hope to speak into those moments of our lives, to remind myself and anyone who might need the same reminder about the inevitability of daybreak.
Night has always lost this game.
It still will,
no matter how hopeless the night feels.
Life wouldn’t make sense without this hope. No matter how slow the night hours, there will be a new day. It won’t be the same as the days when we had no sorrows, but it will be a day full of light. We may still remember the pain, but it won’t have power over us - just like nighttime fears lose their strength in broad daylight.