As you’ve gathered from the fact that I’ve helpfully placed it on the top of the website, my name is Aja Moniz. I am older than quite a lot of you and younger than many more, and I am from several different places; currently, I reside in Boston. I have a significant other, who I shall refer to here as B; I have been with him since 2001. I hold a BA in Studio Art from Mount Holyoke College, with a minor in creative writing. Since 2009, I have run an Etsy shop, where I primarily sell things that I have made out of yarn and patterns for my designs so that you can make them, too. My mother taught me to crochet when I was four or five. I taught myself to knit when I was much older than that.
I am an incredibly fortunate person in many ways, one of which is that B supports me while I chase my artistic dreams — I write fiction for a full forty hours a week and often engage in craftwork for an additional ten to twenty, and am able to focus my complete attention on getting my career off the ground. Some of my personal influences include fairy tales, The Last Unicorn, Disney movies, The Nightmare Before Christmas, Captain Jack Sparrow, Tony Stark, and dolls. When I grow up, I would like to be either Neil Gaiman, Ursula Vernon, or Cousin Violet from Downton Abbey. If I cannot be any of these people, I would like to be a me who writes stories that people need to hear about characters that people can recognize, while lots of yarn and fabric and paint and resin gets flung about in the background. Possibly there will also be a soldering iron and a dremel in there, too. It depends on what I can smuggle into the house while B is not looking.
My work — all of it — is, at its simplest, about making things. The reason I create is to explore and enjoy the process of putting something in this world that was not there before. I believe that there is immense value in art and entertainment, because everyone can find something they need in it if only they can find the right story to read, the right picture to look at, the right doll to hold close. My job, therefore, is to make these things exist in the first place, and hope they will find their way to where they ought to be. And, in the meantime, I feel powerful, knowing that these hands are capable of taking a pile of yarn and turning it into a dragon, and that I can take something so simple as letters and rearrange them to make people laugh or cry, to feel hope or understanding. These things matter, and it matters that I do them, and so I’ll keep doing them for as long as I can.
And, if I have my way, I will keep doing them while self-employed. Self-employment means no one argues with you if you decide you are going to knit for eight straight hours.