Ivanka W macrame

02/10/2026

I’m not particularly drawn to AI-generated imagery. There is something about the imperfections of a real photograph — the light, the shadows, the texture — that feels much closer to the spirit of handmade work.

But photographing my tapestries well has always been something I’ve struggled with. They live in my home, in familiar spaces, and somehow the camera never quite seems to translate what I see in them.

So I experimented with AI to place this piece into a different interior — not to replace the real thing, but simply to offer another way of seeing it.

It isn’t perfect. The AI has changed some of the knots and surface texture, and for a piece that is so much about touch, that matters to me. But the colours and scale are true, and it gives a sense of how the tapestry might inhabit another space, another wall, another home.

Perhaps that is the strange contradiction of it: a very tactile, slow, handmade object being viewed through something entirely digital.

The real piece is still the real piece — knots, fibres, irregularities and all. 🤎

18/09/2026

A new tapestry is about to be ‘coloured in’…

The forms are all mapped out in white, and now comes the colour.

I actually really love it at this stage too — the simplicity of the white and the texture of the woven forms have something beautiful about them in their raw state.

But now it’s time to bring the landscape to life with colour. 🌿

11/09/2026

Some places stay with you.

Not as a photograph.
Not as a memory you can quite put into words.
But as a feeling.

I stood before Uluru in 2007.

Almost twenty years later, I still carry the impression of that place with me.

There is something about Uluru that is difficult to explain. A great red presence rising from the earth, surrounded by an immense stillness. You can look at a photograph and recognise it immediately, but the photograph cannot hold what happens when you are actually there.

It is something you feel more than see.

Next month marks 30 years since I began to call Australia home.

Thirty years of living beneath these skies, walking this land, building a life here. I feel enormous gratitude for that.

And yet, beneath that gratitude is an awareness that this was never simply a place waiting for me to arrive.

This land already had its people.
Its stories.
Its memory.
Its deep and ancient knowledge.

Long before I knew this place as home, it was Country.

We hear Acknowledgements of Country so often now that the words can become almost invisible. But I have never made one that came from somewhere personal.

So perhaps this is mine.

Not an attempt to speak for Country, or to speak for stories that are not mine to tell.

Just a pause.

A recognition of the privilege of being here.

Of standing on land whose memory stretches far beyond my own. Of encountering something so ancient that it makes a human lifetime feel almost weightless.

Uluru has stood through thousands upon thousands of seasons.

And I stood there for a moment.

Then I left.

But somehow, it never quite left me.

This tapestry is my way of returning to that moment.

Of following a memory that has been quietly waiting inside me for almost twenty years.

Thread becoming form.
Form becoming memory.
Memory becoming something I can finally hold.

For the land.
For its ancient presence.
For those who have belonged to it since the beginning.

And with gratitude, for being allowed to call this place home.

06/09/2026

Watching the devastation unfolding in Nepal over the last 10 days has been deeply unsettling. Thousands of lives have been affected, and so many people have lost their lives. 😭😭😭😭 It is difficult to comprehend the scale of it when you are watching from the safety of the other side of the world.

It is impossible not to reflect on the bigger picture — on a changing climate, on our relationship with nature, and on the way we have built a society that so often takes without considering what is left behind.

Nature is not separate from us. We are part of it. Yet somewhere along the way, convenience, consumption and endless production have become more important than balance.

These thoughts have been sitting with me for a while and are part of why I have been slowly moving my own creative practice towards more sustainable making. Reusing discarded cloth, finding beauty and possibility in materials that already exist, and trying — in my own small way — to make without constantly demanding something new.

I know that one person reusing fabric will not stop disasters or reverse climate change. But perhaps change also begins in the small decisions we make every day. In questioning what we consume. What we throw away. What we take from the world around us.

Sometimes creating something new does not require more resources. Sometimes it simply requires looking differently at what has already been discarded.

Maybe that is something worth remembering. 🌍

31/08/2026

Somewhere along the way, the knots began to lead the way.

What started as an exploration of cord, pattern and form slowly grew into something much more personal — different paths, different stories, different ways of making.

Some pieces become landscapes.
Some hold memories.
Some are created for a particular space, a particular person, or a particular moment.
Some begin as an idea and become a pattern, waiting for someone else to take the journey.

And some simply emerge without much of a plan at all.

Looking back, I can see that my work has developed its own direction over the years. Not necessarily a straight line, but more like a collection of paths that keep crossing and finding their way into something new.

I made this little poster as a glimpse into those different paths — the things I make, the things I create, and the places macramé has taken me so far.

And I suspect there are still a few paths yet to discover. ✨

29/08/2026

I’ve been creating macramé patterns for a few years now, and recently I’ve deliberately cleared some space in my making schedule to give myself more time for writing.

This one has been several weeks in the making, and I finally finished it today — just in time for the weekend. ✨

So, if you’ve been thinking “maybe this is the weekend I finally try one”… perhaps it is. And to make the timing even better, I’m running a little sale on all of my patterns this weekend.

If there’s a particular design you’d love to see turned into a pattern, let me know. I’m very happy to make patterns on demand — sometimes the right design is simply waiting to be untangled. 🪢

PS: See knotluxe on Etsy for sales.

Happy knotting,
Ivana

22/08/2026

26/07/2026

Some pieces are about colour, texture and design.

Others carry a story that words could never fully tell.

This tapestry was created incorporating some of the clothing of a beautiful young man whose life ended far too soon. Those treasured pieces have been carefully woven into the artwork, creating something that honours his memory and preserves a connection that can be held close.

It was an incredible privilege to create this piece and to be trusted by his mum with something so deeply personal. Creating memory tapestries like this is a responsibility I never take lightly. Every stitch is made with care, respect and love.

These pieces are more than artworks. They hold memories, celebrate lives, and become lasting reminders of the people we never stop loving.

Thank you for trusting me with your son’s story. I hope this tapestry brings comfort and reminds you that love endures. ❤️
❤️ Pamela Wright

26/07/2026

https://www.instagram.com/reel/DbPo3ihsmc8/?igsh=MTUycHdzZTV2MmI0bw==

16/05/2026

Some captures from Friday’s opening of the Art From Trash exhibition. It’s been so nice to be part of this great initiative with my Nutgrove Beach tapestry.

A really inspiring night surrounded by so many creative works made from recycled and discarded materials. I always love seeing the different ways people can transform everyday objects into something meaningful, thoughtful and beautiful.

Very grateful to everyone who came along, had a chat, and spent time with the work. ✨