Weave Your Worry, Weave Your Wish

A Reflection on Community and Connection.

What began as an invitation for quiet reflection quickly became something far bigger — a communal act of connection and beauty. 

The concept was simple. We set out a 15ft long and 3ft wide woven net in a public space, alongside yarn of recycled sari silk. We asked people to pause, consider a worry or a wish they’d been carrying, and then cut a piece of yarn to tie or weave into the net. In doing so, each participant contributed to something larger than themselves: a living, evolving textile of shared hopes and burdens. 

What unfolded left us deeply moved. Day by day, the net grew more colorful, more textured, more alive. Some stopped for a moment of quiet solitude, while others lingered in conversation. The simple act of tying a thread became a ritual of release, of hope, of connection. 

We were touched not only by the number of people who participated, but also by the depth of their engagement. Several local institutions—schools, community centers, and cultural organizations—reached out to us, asking how they might recreate this installation in their own towns. That response affirmed something we have long believed: that beauty, reflection, and connection are universal needs, and that design has the power to meet them in humble yet profound ways. 

The materials for this project were chosen with intention. The net was made of jute, a textile often used to prevent erosion—an apt metaphor for what we hoped the installation could do. The yarn, recycled from sari silk, carried its own story of transformation—once part of vibrant garments, now reborn into something communal and new. 

We wanted the act of weaving to be not only symbolic but also deeply tied to cycles of resilience and renewal. As designers, we often think about spaces and objects, but at the heart of our work is always the same question: how can design foster connection? Weave Your Worry, Weave Your Wish reminded us that sometimes the simplest gestures—tying a knot, offering a moment of pause—can open the greatest pathways to belonging. 

We are profoundly grateful to everyone who participated and to those who want to carry this idea forward. It has shown us that design doesn’t need to be grand to be meaningful. Sometimes it just needs to be an open invitation, a place to rest your thoughts, and a thread to tie them to.

Here in Peterborough, our net still hangs, now vibrant with the layered stories of our community. It is, in every way, a woven tapestry of hope and release—proof that when we come together, our individual worries and wishes can create something unexpectedly beautiful.

Farm to Textile

Spotlight: Maria Davila & Eduardo Portillo

When it comes to weaving nature with function & beauty, Maria Davila & Eduardo Portillo are an inspiring representation. A couple dedicating their lives to the study and research of silk, natural fibers and textiles, they are undoubtedly the perfect start to our nidu Spotlight series. 

The couple

Since 1983, Maria & Eduardo have dedicated their lives to the process of creating silk pieces - from the breeding of silkworms to the weaving of silk threads - turning their practice into an art form that celebrates & respects each and every step of the process. 

Their journey began in the hilly region of La Pedrera, Merida in Venezuela - a quintessential mountain region with silhouetted backdrops & misty mornings - where they became inspired to travel across the world to China & India to study the art of silk. Upon their return to Venezuela, they founded 'Morera Textiles' - named after the 'Morera' tree - and 'Veneseda' (translating to Venesilk). 

Their work is recognized by UNESCO as a contribution to sustainable practices, and they are members of the Textile Society of America, a platform dedicated to the exchange and diffusion of textiles. The couple shares their vast knowledge by lecturing in conferences across the US, Central and South America, and Europe - where they tell their story and inspire hundreds.

Silk & moriche.

The process

As with most wild & wonderful things, it all began with nature - specifically, with larvae from the Canary Islands, and a seed. The silkworm larvae, gifted to Maria & Eduardo by their family and delicately transported to Venezuela in a handkerchief, led to the planting of a seed - specifically, a 'Morera' tree seed. Morera trees lend their leaves as food for the silkworms, which in turn, grow to produce the threads that are transformed into textiles.

Staying true to the organic nature of the process, once the silk is extracted, it is brought to life in vibrant colors using spices, fruits and leaves from Merida's rich land - including indigo, turmeric, avocado and woodlouse, among many others. 

The result

Not only does the couple weave nature into their practice, they also embrace and incorporate different cultures into their pieces.

Most recently, Maria & Eduardo drew inspiration from the Yekuana Tribe - an indigenous group who inhabit the Orinoco Basin in the southern region of Venezuela. The tribe are most renowned for their basket weaving - using shredded & sun dried palm leaves and vegetable dyes found in their region - to create striking yet functional pieces used in their everyday lives.

By weaving together delicate silk threads from the region of Merida with the hardy fibers of the rainforest, Maria & Eduardo have merged together nature, beauty, culture and sustainability - all within one piece. These textiles are currently part of an exhibit in Museo Nacional de Artes Decorativas in Madrid, Spain.

Silk, moriche, alpaca, threads, copper.

The nidu factor

Through textiles, the couple transmits values - in their words: "good sensations, humanity, the a-temporal, rhythm, landscape, people, culture and history."

The couple continues: "Venezuelans usually bring a particular textile mix of silk & moriche towards their face and take a deep breath. As they do, they connect with the feeling of rest, protection and belonging. It gets them in touch with something primal: shelter."

There is an unmistakable similarity between the way they understand their textiles and the way we design spaces at nidu - we strive to weave the threads of the clients life into their own personal fabric. 

Interested in hearing Maria & Eduardo's story? Join them for their next lecture at ETC (European Textile Network) in March. Details to come. You can also learn more about them by visiting their website or Instagram @moreratextiles / @mariadavilayeduardoportillo.

Introducing: nidu Gather Series

NIDU GATHER SERIES

Join us this August 7 + 8 - wander through the two homes in Peterborough, New Hampshire that gave niduʼs concept lift: a restored 1790ʼs house + a repurposed barn bound through a communal space.

“We think of our design process as identifying and weaving together the threads of a life into a unique and beautiful fabric – a personal space.”

DISCOVER THE WORK OF THREE ARTISANS

Experience the juxtaposition of art and everyday life as you move through spaces that hold works made by three artisans: Sanya Sharma (textiles), Steve Theberge (ceramics) and a collaboration between Porter Teleo + Emily von Wachter (wall coverings). Their pieces emanate their respect for each object, no matter how humble its function.

The nidu Aesthetic

The nidu aesthetic is continually woven, unraveled, rewoven. No matter how many times it gets unraveled, a few of the same threads are always woven back in without fail. Nane and I can trace those foundational threads back to our childhood.

Our maternal grandmother was the daughter of a diplomat. Her wandering childhood endowed her with an intuitive understanding of the profound impact spaces have on our lives. Her homes ultimately reflected this knowledge. The layouts were thoughtful and functional, the feel of each room was intentional and congruent with the space. She combined furniture and objects from different periods and places with ease and elegant simplicity. Beauty was important, but not at the expense of functionality. She was discerning, but always practical.

We were deeply touched by our grandmother’s respect for each and every object in her space, no matter how humble. Her hand tool set was the perfect size for her small hands, always kept in a simple but beautiful box. She cleaned her shoes every evening and placed them in a soft cloth bag. She even cleaned under the hood of her car with baby shampoo! And yet objects didn’t rule. Her homes were warm, personal and well lived. That feeling is the soul of nidu. 

Our paternal grandfather was an entrepreneur and artist at heart. He was a talented painter, loved museums and eventually became a collector. He enjoyed the personal experience of interacting with artists, of finding the right piece. His house was open and filled with light. The furniture was simple, but expertly crafted and beautifully designed. He displayed art in every room with remarkable unfussiness. His pieces were uplifting, a source of joy to anyone who encountered them. Here again, they were respected, but didn’t rule. The atmosphere in the house was casual, a place of gathering - always welcoming, and always open to his eighteen grandchildren. 

Eventually, he partnered in business with another entrepreneur who was passionate about Scandinavian design. The result of this partnership was a store that introduced Scandinavian furniture to the Venezuelan market. The store itself was a sophisticated, beautifully curated space where people could spend hours browsing and lounging. As little girls, we would visit on Saturdays. We can both remember the smell of wood, leather and textiles, and a feeling that we had entered another world. Scandinavian design has permeated our homes and sense of aesthetics since.

The juxtaposition of art and everyday life, along with a deep appreciation for craftsmanship and design are the underpinnings of the nidu aesthetic. The nidu approach to transforming interiors requires that we weave together key threads of your life into your own unique fabric - your space.

El Metro de Caracas

Far before I became an interior designer and therapist, I became aware of the effect that our surroundings have on our behaviors. My first memory is of El Metro de Caracas, or the Caracas subway station. The time when an new, clean, almost pristine station was dropped into the middle of a chaotic and bustling city center. As hectic passersby made their way down to the station, some pushed, some shoved. One dropped their coffee cup on the ground as it bounced off the rim of the garbage can, not bothered to pick it up. As you submerged into El Metro de Caracas, something shifted. What was haste and violence above ground turned into courteousness and gentle behavior. Those once unconcerned with dirtying their environment . People walked taller, vibrating at a higher frequency. That’s when I began to understand that our surroundings can be used as a tool to improve our present state.