My husband's uncle collects and repairs Turkish kilims.
He grows his own plants to use as dyes. He spins and dyes his own wools to use for sewing and then he painstakingly repairs them to preserve someone else's art for future generations.
His studio with three walls of windows and all his bits and bobs of yarn, bottles of colour, a spinning wheel... it made my heart ache in all the most beautiful ways.
I kept wondering if I could offer to be his house-maid? Dishwasher? Just to be around his world and soak it all in.
His home felt sacred to me.
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