Sunday, April 19, 2009
under one flag
Yeah, there's no denying that they are flags. Even hanging across the opening of the laundry and backlit with a 75 watt bulb.
I've always loved stained glass and was really thinking about that Tiffany window when I reshuffled the pallette after a false start. Even though I seamed a few of those pieces together, they were dumb as posts and just not happening.
A few fabric substitutions and some transparent Setacolor and this one is starting to hum.
It's fixing to get grizzly outside so my idea of painting/drying/painting on the deck is now going back and forth between 1/2 of my sewing table and the laundry closet opening which is 60"x80" and covered completely by this piece. I don't know why I think this is a big deal. People routinely made bed covers bigger than this.
Here's a shot with flash and half dry so you can get an idea of what's really going on instead of the glowing wishful thinking happening in the first picture. You can bet I'll keep coming back to it and try with paint and other techniques to make it happen for real.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
the process
Thanks to everyone who commented on "Front Runner" and the way I documented it's manifestation. Keeping track of my work was my original purpose for keeping this blog. Time to toe the mark.
Ever timely, Elizabeth has posed the question "where d’you begin?" I gave it some thought and decided to pay closer attention this time as I'm anxious to start the next piece in this series.
There've been plenty of pictures in the past of my studio, almost always looking post-apocalyptic, but pieces of ironed fabric, all stacked and racked, just don't speak to me.
It's as if they already have a job - presenting the illusion of order - and have an imaginary DO NOT DISTURB sign hanging on them. I think this is where some folks get carried away with their stash. It does look all nice and orderly all folded and sorted like that but how would you ever know how this red, that nasty, murky piece of table-mopper and that swath of golden damask would look together unless you flapped them off the shelf and threw them about a bit?
I started rounding up these likely suspects yesterday. I overdyed a few laggards and recalled one or two items from the wrinkled depths of the closet and heaped them in the Chair. I'm feeling intense. Cat posted this amazing photo a few days back that perfectly captured my color mood much better than my crayons have in the sketchbook.
You can see I've already deviated wildly.
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Time
to stop, I think.
At least time to stop and breathe.
Time to get out the shovel and get this place in order. When you go looking for something that you KNEW was there and can't find it three times in one day, it's time.
The stats god tells me that I have had a new and lengthy visit from someone someplace in the heart of NY near Wilmington. I know it's deep in one of the most beautiful places in this country although I'm ashamed to say I was never farther north than Glens Falls.
So many people think New York is all paved over, concrete and steel. I'm here to tell you that nothing could be further from the truth.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
working the elements
There's been a lot whining here about the limitations and failures I've experienced working with fiber and sewing.
Lately I've taken some good advice and started paying attention to what elements I like in a variety of other artists work and I keep coming back to the dimensionality of the machine stitched line in layers of fabric like Terry Grant's work.
(Front Runner in progress , 48"x72")
This time I'm going to compound the impact of the machine stitching on this piece one pass of stitching at a time and hope I recognize when basta! arrives.
The stitching itself is lost on these failing eyes from just a few paces across the room but the shadows that are cast with natural light get my attention like claw marks in bark.
For my own satisfaction, I'm thinking I have to find a balance between the broad strokes/energy of color and shape and the finer details of stitching and texture. I've come to accept that the problems of working large is finding ways to reconcile how a piece looks from across a room and what else goes on when you step in for a closer look.
addendum - I just read this from Lanie and find a serendipitous parallel .
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