By CHLOE BAIERL

You may have heard of hygge, the Scandinavian concept that champions comfy kinds of activities to fend off sun-deprived sadness. Another equally important pillar of hygge is the sense of conviviality: sharing informal spaces with people as we all communally hunker down. Think of a warm café, a cozy library or a knitting circle.

Last Tuesday, Pittsburgh woke up to a few inches of snow, and the outside temperature hovered around 8 degrees with a subzero windchill. As I set out supplies in the Center for Creativity’s Understory, preparing for our first Fiber Hang, I started to worry, as anyone who has ever hosted a party or any gathering of humans can relate to, that no one would show up. Would people choose to venture into the cold and traverse slushy roads to knit with a bunch of strangers in the Cathedral of Learning basement?

The weather may have been inhospitable, but it was exactly what I had in mind. The inspiration for the Fiber Hangs came partly from my own intense desire to do the coziest activities possible in the dead of winter. I felt like I needed a dose of hygge, and I felt that others at Pitt might need it, too. 

Across the city, the cold keeps us cooped up in our individual homes, residence halls and offices, united in hibernation mode but physically separated. Even the most introverted can feel the pangs of loneliness. This isolation we experience in the wintertime is very similar to the isolation we can feel in our own sense of creativity. Our hyper-individualized culture values solitary creative genius, teaching us that artistic talent and creativity are qualities that lie with the lucky few. If you’re not naturally a Dickinson or a Picasso, you may feel as though there’s a wall separating you from any sort of creative or artistic expression.

What we miss when we think this way about creativity is the same thing that we miss in the cold depths of January: community. Making arts, crafts, anything in a group of people serves as a creative, emotional and intellectual balm. We can give each other much needed encouragement because, individually, we are often our own worst critics. We can share knowledge and inspiration, tapping into a collective intelligence that allows us to create things we couldn’t possibly imagine in isolation. Most importantly, we can just be together and enjoy each other’s company: making community is itself a creative act.

As the Fiber Hang started, my pre-hosting fears were quickly dispelled. Undergrads, masters students, Ph.D. candidates, a faculty member, and a couple of staff members all congregated around their shared interest in fiber art. In that cold evening, gathered around a table with tea, hot chocolate and cookies, we spent 90 minutes together learning how to knit or working on our own projects. Some people chatted among themselves, sharing knitting tips and getting to know each other. Some sat contently on their own, concentrating deeply on their needles. Talking or not, we shared space engaged in the same activity, warming our hands and our minds with shared creative energy.

Chloe Baierl (she/they) is a fiber artist working at Pitt’s Center for Creativity.