Basket c. 20th century

This little basket at the Minneapolis Institute of Art is the work of an anonymous artist. Imagine someone patiently weaving these strands together, a meditative process of building up the form, line by line. I wonder, did the artist have a clear idea from the outset, or did the shape emerge organically, a dialogue between intention and material? Maybe they started with one idea, and it gradually morphed into something else entirely—the kind of unexpected detour that happens in the studio all the time. Look at the delicate texture and the way the dark strands create subtle stripes, and then the looping, almost unruly chain. It’s not just functional; it’s kind of a sculptural gesture. It reminds me that art-making is an act of faith, a way of trying to figure something out, and also a place where failure is just part of the deal, but somehow it always carries its own beautiful trace.