DESIGN STORIES | SGEULACHDAN DEALBHAIDH
Applecross Croft designs are born from heartfelt inspiration drawn from immersion in Highland life. We are passionate about the Scottish Highlands and are proud to base our lives and business here.
The stories enmeshed within our designs have a purpose, evoked by the manner in which we experience the visceral landscape and the elements, by the way we interpret the area's culture, language and heritage. They draw on the memory of people and place to inspire new memories.
We hope each scarf might be a focal point and catalyst for discussion and understanding, continuation and renewal.
BEALACH NA BÀ
The hill road into and through the Applecross peninsula is iconic and inspirational, exhilarating, challenging and yet everyday. A lifeline that links the shores of Applecross Bay to the hilltops and Loch Kishorn. It is a way in and an escape.
This design speaks to the historic wealth of Applecross, which was built on cattle. The route’s name Bealach na Bà, the pass of the cattle, links us to the drovers who walked the beasts to the markets of southern Scotland. At home, the tenants paid their rents in butter and cheese. In our past, these cattle were as important as life and death. We remember the balance of people and nature, the frayed connections between us and the cycle of seasons. We think about our journeys through our lives and our landscapes, the narrow roads we navigate, the challenges we face, the splendour that the heart and eye comprehend.
Tha an rathad àrd tron Chomraich suaicheanta agus brosnachail, eagalach, dùbhlanach ach fhathast àbhaisteach. Tha e na lìn-bheatha, a’ ceangail cladach an Locha Mhòir ris na mullaichean agus Loch Cìseorn air an taobh thall. ’S e an dà chuid rathad a-steach agus teicheadh a tha ann.
Tha an sgarfa seo a’ riochdachadh beartas na Comraich a thàinig bhon chrodh anns na làithean a dh’fhalbh. Tha an t-ainm Bealach na Bà na cheangal ris na dròbhairean a choisich leotha gu na margaidean mu dheas. Aig an taigh, bha na croitearan a’ pàigheadh màl le ìm is càise. Roimhe, bha an crodh ro chudromach. Bidh cuimhe againn air mar a bha daoine is nàdar cothromachadh, agus an dlùth-cheangal a chaill sinn a bha againn le cuairt nan ràithean.
Bidh sinn a’ cnuasachadh air cuairt ar beatha, air gach cadha air an coisich sinn, na dùbhlain a tha romhainn, na mìorbhailean a thuigeas an cridhe is a chì an t-sùil.
HEARTSTORM • STOIRM-CHRIDHE
Love – one word. So powerful a word that it encompasses the romantic, the platonic, the familial. Love can overcome our fear of the unknown, stimulate our desire for adventure, drive us to give ourselves completely to another. Love for self, love of other, love for place, community, nature. It represents the thrill of a greater sharing, the leaping pleasure and searing pain that come with the peaks and troughs of emotion.
In the meeting of land and sea, in the appearance of real or imagined shorelines and boundaries, the designs woven into HeartStorm represent the meeting of hearts, minds and bodies, and the cardinal points of our emotions. The intensity of love as it ebbs and flows between and within us is mirrored by the rising and falling of the imagery.
With our hearts we navigate our lives, through our heartstorms we come to know ourselves, to understand the great leviathans, formidable and mysterious, swimming within the unexplored depths of each of us.
The seas of our heartstorms are crashing, billowing breakers of desire, and the gentle, lapping caress of the tide. The power and ferocity, the calm, still mirror of the heart.
Gaol – aon fhacal, cho cumhachdach, a ghabhas a-steach leannanachd, càirdeas, teaghlach. Gheibh gaol làmh an uachdair air na rudan nach tuig sinn is a chuireas eagal oirnn, gar brosnachadh a bhith dàna, a bhith gar toirt fhèin do chuideigin eile uile gu lèir. Gaol oirnn fhèin, air càch, air àite is coimhearsnachd is nàdar. ’S e gaoir na roinneadh a tha ann, am pian a losgas agus an toil-inntinn a thig an lùib stùic is tulgan-tuinn an fhaireachdainn.
Far a bheil tìr is muir a’ coinneachadh, is cladaichean is crìochan fìor is mas fhìor a’ nochdadh, tha na dealbhan an lùib Stoirm-Chridhe a’ riochdachadh chridheachan, inntinnean agus bhodhaigean a’ tighinn còmhla, agus prìomh phuingean nam faireachdainnean againn. Bidh na tha san dealbhadh ag èirigh is a’ tuiteam mar a bhitheas dèine a’ ghaoil a’ sruthadh eadarainn is nar broinn.
Bidh ar cridheachan gar stiùireadh tro bheatha, agus gheibh sinn eòlas oirnn fhèin tro na stoirmean-cridhe againn, gus an tuig sinn na libheadain mhòra, làidir agus dìomhair, a tha a’ snàmh annainn uile.
Bidh marannan nan stoirmean-cridhe againn uaireannan nan tonnan bàirlinneach stàirneach no na thìde-mara a’ tàladh is a’ suathadh. An cùmhachd is a’ ghairge, sgàthan ciùin, sèimh a’ chridhe.
THE EAGLE & THE WREN • AN T-IOLAIR & AN DREATHAN-DONN
‘Where art thou, wren?’ said the eagle.
‘I am here, above thee,’ said the wren.‘Càit a bheil thu, dhreathain-duinn?’ ars an iolair.
‘Tha mis’ an seo, os do chionn,’ ars an dreathan-donn.
The story of the eagle and the wren stretches across cultures, languages and generations. Once, long ago, all the birds decided that to elect a king, a competition would be held to see which bird could fly the highest. The wren rides in the feathers of the soaring eagle before bursting out above to win – a tale of little outwitting big, the seemingly weaker overcoming the mighty. It is not the powerful eagle that rules all birds but the wren.
All of us can experience unseen triumphs, little victories and painful losses, and understand that no matter who we are, we may be both the eagle and the wren. We all have inherent strength and intelligence.
The greatest of songs can spill from the tiny voice of the wren, even in the harshest winter conditions. When other birds have fallen silent, we may still hear the wren. We just have to listen.
Tha sgeulachd ainmeil na h-iolaire is an dreathain-duinn a’ tighinn thugainn thar nan linntean, is e a’ nochdadh ann an iomadh cultar is cànan. O chionn cian nan cian, airson is gum bitheadh rìgh air a thaghadh, chuir na h-eòin farpais air dòigh ach am faiceadh iad cò an t-eun a dh’fhaodhadh a bhith ag itealaich a b’ àirde. Le bhith falaichte ann an itean na h-iolaire agus a’ briseadh a-mach aig a’ mhionaid mu dheireadh, seo sgeul anns am bi beag a’ gabhail brath air mòr, na tha nas laige, mas fhìor, a’ faighinn làmh an uachdair. Chan e an t-iolair neartmhor a tha os cionn nan eun uile ach an dreathan-donn.
Bidh soirbheas gun fhàth gun fhaireachadh, buaidhean beaga agus caillidhean goirt againn uile, is tuigidh sinn ge b’e cò tha annainn, dh’fhaodadh gu bheil an dà chuid an t-iolair is an dreathan-donn annainn uile. Tha neart is comas againn uile.
Thig na h-òrain as fheàrr bho ghuth beag an dreathain-duinn, fiù’ ’s am meadhan a’ gheamhraidh chruaidh. Nuair a tha na h-eòin eile air tuiteam sàmhach, faodaidh sinn an dreathan-donn a chluinntinn. Chan fheum sinn ach èisteachd.
PTARMIGAN • TORMACHAN AN T-SLÈIBHE
The ptarmigan – more than it first appears – changes with the seasons and takes different guises. This design is based on the bird’s dramatic change from dark summer tones to white winter plumage. In its transformations, and with many Gaelic versions of its name, the ptarmigan represents how we are not always the same thing to all people.
Tormachan an t-slèibhe comes from words like torman, which means rumbling, a musical murmuring or croaking, not from its appearance, a reminder that we should not judge by what we see. Looks do not represent bravery, boldness or beauty.
In Icelandic myth, the ptarmigan refused to submit to the Virgin Mary’s order to walk through fire like all the other birds of the world. For its disobedience and independence, it was cursed to be defenceless and persecuted.
Despite this, the ptarmigan survives and endures in the fiercest conditions, through the blizzards and storms nature throws at it on the coldest mountain tops. This design recognises that multiple perspectives shape the world for each of us.
A bharrachd air na chithear an toiseach, bidh Tormachan an t-slèibhe ag atharrachadh, a’ gabhail riochd ùr, leis na ràithean. Tha an dealbhadh seo stèidhte air a’ chruth-atharrachadh eadar dathan dorch’ an t-samhraidh is iteach geal a’ gheamhraidh. Eadar sin, is iomadh ainm aige sa Ghàidhlig, tha Tormachan an t-slèibhe a’ toirt oirnn smaoineachdainn nach fhaic a h-uile neach an aon rud annainn idir.
’S ann bho fhaclan coltach ri torman a gheibhear Tormachan an t-slèibhe agus chan ann bhon choltas, a’ cur nar cuimhne gun a bhith a’ toirt breith a rèir coltais oir chan ionnan sin agus gaisgeachd, dànachd no bòidhchead.
Ann an uirsgeulan Innis Tìle, dh’iarr an Òigh Moire air gach eun air an t-saoghal gun coisicheadh iad uile tro theine, ach dhiùlt an tormachan. Air sgàth an easaontais agus neo-eisimealachd, chuireadh mallachd air, gus am bitheadh e gun dìon is fo ionnsaigh gu bràth tuilleadh. A dh’aindheoin sin ge-tà, seasaidh Tormachan an t-slèibhe is thig e beò tro na suidheachaidhean as miosa, tro chur is cathadh is stoirmean air na mullaich as fuaire. Aithnichidh an dealbhadh seo gu bheil iomadh sealladh ann dhuinn uile.