historical

Yesterday I got a lovely email from an artist in New Zealand asking permission to teach a class based on the technique I used in this piece which was published some years back.

I never thought of stitching layers of torn strips as any exclusive technique of mine (and I said so) but it was a very civilized gesture. I hope the students enjoy the class.

The first time I used this technique was on a piece that was about a yard long and only ten or so inches wide. I remember working on it while waiting in the car as my youngest son was taking his road test...ages ago. There was a lot of trepidation stitched into that one. Wonder where it is?

eye candy friday

Happy Friday!
Here's a site you should bookmark...but does it float 

 I was led to all of the following from there.

Gunta Stölzl

Art Hansen

Vangel Naumovski

WIP

Closing in on finished here, I've enjoyed working on this one with the simplest of techniques for me, hand  applique.

No trixie embroidery, no layering the threads, no crazed french knots - just a double strand of Sulky 12wt cotton in colors matching the fabric.

 Almost all the the fabrics are hand dyed damasks which has  tendency to creep away and fight the needle at every turn. The trick to needle turning this stuff is pins, pins and more pins and then stitches that are maybe an eighth inch apart. Sounds obsessive but the damask needles like butter.  I'd like to take this technique to a larger field for the next project.

Spring will be on us before you know and I'm daydreaming about the first dye fest of the year.
I have so much wonderful raw material at hand.

flings fly

In anticipation of spring this fling will be flying today.

It's been hanging around the studio since it was made and every time I unearth the thing it makes me grin so now it's going to make my mother and her friends at the nursing home smile and have a cackle.

groundwork

Just stitching on a passage thinking about the story.

I walked alone to school from day one. Across Main under the stern gaze of a crossing guard, down along  the dark side of Maple, past the front doors of the firehouse and the local newspaper and down a footpath through a dark wood.

There was a little wooden bridge over a brook and there were certainly trolls under that bridge but they could never catch me, I was running so fast. You had to hold your breath in the woods or they would be waiting when your feet hit the first board.

 At the end of the path the woods unclenched onto  the baseball field behind the school. It was full of cold sun with the block buildings squatting on the other side daring me come, full tilt.

traipsing

JR and I were loose on the streets of ATL yesterday on our bi-monthly mission of self indulgence. Nobody went to infirmary and nobody went to jail - mission accomplished!

 First  stop - IKEA! who is only too happy to feed people free breakfast so they will have the stamina to shop till they drop well after lunchtime. There was a real bedding frenzy going on..I got mine.  I have not been so inspired to nest refurbishment since Takashimaya was in NYC where I would spend my grocery money on a regular basis buying must haves like transparent turquoise and fuchsia plastic boxes, carved chopsticks in silk cases and acid green eye liner. Who needed to eat? Begging in the streets for Taka-money often crossed my mind.

On then to a quick visit to Phoenix and Dragon for a spiritual uplift and to take a few measurements (more about that later)  ..then we went  applying for part time jobs (just kidding folks)

 
Late lunch found us feasting at El Aztecas on Roswell Rd which had  moved across the street and upscaled quite a bit since the last time we ate there. Fabulous food and the waiter was most understanding about the no carb thing and made off with the dessert menu before I could read beyond Strawberry Cinnamon ice cream.

 Later we found out that "ESTATE SALE" doesn't necessarily mean there's any kind of estate involved. Just a lot of crap that was in the place when someone shuffled off and left it. They did leave this behind, to my delight!

inscription or tattoo

Jude says I have "Color and Heart"...
..thanks for the reminder lady.

"Hopped Up"   2007

(here's a little genesis for this one)

beautiful things

Have you ever seen a rock with a soul?

Enjoy the weekend!

a low level buzz of anticipation

"Just when I thought I was out, they pulled me back in".

The fabrics and stitching that is.
 Out of boredom and frustration, I started thinking spring yesterday with needle and thread. I'm trying to find my way around a serious blank spot in my line of inner sight by  making an end run with familiar techniques and materials.


I'll tell you what is hard...writing is hard. Talk about making something from nothing. Sustaining the attention for your own story, the one you are making up as you go, is like walking into a room full of large fans whilst holding a bunch of helium balloons on very thin, greasy strings.



On the news front, I am talking with the owner of a local bookstore that also has a large meeting/classroom that doubles as an art gallery. They have never had fiber art there.  So far, it looks like a one woman show in April at  a great location that gets a good bit of traffic that didn't come just for the eye candy.  More when the details are hammered out.

hangover

Urgh.

 Bless my darling Goodman for making sure my Valentine's day was celebrated properly, with cannolis from the Italian Pie.  They come dressed with fresh whipped cream and an extra drizzle of a sweet, creamy sauce flavored with anisette.

 This morning I am suffering from a carbo hangover and should spend the morning working out at the pool but will settle for extra fluids and some housework.

roadmaps and hinderances

I've gotten lot of advice from people I know and respect (and a boatload of total strangers) who have taken a whack at writing.

Everyone had a short reading list for me  so I hit the "used" section of Amazon and completed my shopping list for a mere song or two.

It's quite interesting that most of these books aren't a lot more expansive than the instruction booklet that comes (recipes included) with a new crockpot.  Except for King and Lamott, who have fleshed out their instruction with very readable autobiographical stuff, everyone else seems to have taken their own advice and cut to the chase...less and less is more.

Since I've been writing for a while for my own entertainment  I don't know how much or if I will take any of this sage wisdom to heart. One or two not shown here would be best mulched in a blender with fruit juice and taken as extra fiber...like eating shredded wheat dry.

The hardest part for me? Every frickin' thing is in Black & White! My eyes are parched for color.

Brrrrrr!

After a very mild winter we are getting a serious polar swat.  It was in the low twenties this morning and we are all bundled up with our fur on end and very grateful for clear blue skies with no freezing precip in the forecast.

There were actually a few flakes flying by as I drove into the city yesterday. I made a hasty exit off the freeway because the locals were terrible distracted by the flurry and I285 was quickly shaping up to be a demolition derby. They drive faster while peering up into the skies and talking excitedly on the cells. The long perspective looked like they were trying to drive between the scant flakes.

I've rolled one of the little heaters into the sunny studio, cleaned up a little and plan on putting the finishing touches to my friend Jan's quilt top today. Jan if you are reading this, I still need a verse for the band around the edge.

last stitches

                                    

 "Grand Rêver"

   I've put the last stitches in this one which has worked out to be 27"x29" . The edges are raw and I am still deciding if I want to mummify this one.

 

 

( turns out this is my 1400th post. Sheesh, what wind.  I could have had that bloody novel in the can by now!)

learn to quilt!

Remember this recent acquisition?

The maker, Serena Potter,  has started an informal and free online tutorial aimed at people who would like to learn traditional pieced quilting, people who might have no clue how to thread a needle. She doesn't quilt to win blue ribbons or make a quick buck - she does it because she loves the tradition, the process and the finished work. Her easy going and straightforward style is fun and she writes about a range of beginner's concerns that have never occurred to many who charge good money for quilting classes.

I know not many of my readers fit this description. Most of us have been at it so long we would be hard pressed to explain the most elemental details of sewing anything by hand. It would be easier for me to hem your skirt than tell or show you how, if either of us had the patience. I don't.

Serena, who is also the mother of two toddlers, has plenty.

She also has a wry sense of humor that is right up my alley and I have a long list of non-sewers to pass this link along to and I'll bet you do too. It jumps around a bit and the reader might have to scroll forward and back through the days to find  a good starting place depending on one's skill set, but it's all worth it.

She worries that there are purists out there who will argue with some of her methods or practices.
I told her "Screw em!" I have held one of her quilts in my hands and if these methods and procedures are how she arrived at this result, then she knows what she's talking about.

from the ridiculous to the sublime

Have you ever bought a product you didn't need just because the packaging was so cool?  There are three more flavors and I didn't buy any because I stood there for ten minutes not being able to decide which of the four to buy!




And we have Morna to thank for discovering the work of artist Huguette Caland.  Don't miss a single jawdropping link! Takes my breath away too, Morna..thanks.

This is the kind of work that makes me get all quiet inside and just pay very close attention to all the feelings and responses going on. Attend!

"Rossinante Under Cover I" by Huguette Calnd
51x42”, acrylic and pen on canvas, 2011

supermac

If you live in the Southern US and you are from the NE you know how hard it is to find a really good Macintosh apple. The produce man tells me that they just don't travel all that well and, in fact, you rarely find them in the stores.

I took a chance on just one from Publix this morning. More often than not they are mealy, blah and disappointing.

Today I hit the crisp sweet/sour jackpot and sat in the car and ate that apple like it was my last damned meal. Actually it was my breakfast and the first apple in way too long, I'm on a carb restricted diet and less than terrific apples were not on the list of things that I missed.

This had to be one of the apples that the wicked witch gave Snow White because as soon as I got home I needed a serious nap. Such has been the highpoint of my day....

post redux - In writing (11.18.09)

Thanks for all the wonderful points of view regarding the use of written dialogue stitched into art. It's good to know what other people think both about doing it and seeing it. For now I have decided against any messages or even letter forms.

I find that when I begin using letter forms I can't help but want to convey something snarky or entertaining. In fact, I find that when I work literally or do something representational you can pretty much bet on something weird, shocking or downright wrong going on. You'll laugh too if you don't run out of the room.

rituals & tradition

I have a new ritual these days. Some might have noticed that it's eating into my blogging frequency. Probably.

I get up as soon as Jim and Colin leave for work, go downstairs and push the button on the coffeemaker that Jim has blessedly prepared for me.

By the time I've finished dishing out three different kinds of cat food and refereeing the jostling hordes (really, there are only four) the coffee is ready. I take it back upstairs, set it on the nightstand and get the laptop from the studio. It's still dark out as I transcribe whatever scribbles appeared in the notebook from the day before and fatten them as I go. An hour or three will go by before I notice.

If I get bogged down, I will take a new page and devote it to just focusing on a very small detail - Annie Lamott's "square inch picture frame" trick that she would use to keep up the writing momentum.

This morning I went after the day my father's mother taught me to cross stitch and why. The embroidery hoop in the picture is one of a pair that I still have that belonged to  Nell. This is the smaller of the pair and the same ones that I used that first time 58 years ago.

She showed me just how to set the hem of the cotton pillowcase between the hoops and watched over my shoulder as I constructed a little march of tiny green DMC  Xs along the hemline. I spent a lot of time looking at the backside and trying to make it as neat as the front, no mean trick for a four year old. My real objective was to be as stingy as possible with the thread because Nell told me that after I had used up the three hanks she had given me I would have to buy my own thread. She would be giving me twenty-five cents a week for helping her in the kitchen. Twenty-five cents a week equaled five new colors from the stationary store down the block from our house. I couldn't wait!

The "why" of the lesson you ask? Well, that's pages away.

expanses

Like the new header? I needed a change of scenery to go with the change of seasons.

It's a section of my personal "Beach" from back in May 2010. I was rooting around looking for more formal images and there are none. I could dig it out and reshoot it but this snip will do for now. It reminded me of the pleasure of arms wide, eyes afar designing and building a piece that was intended to be used and not just displayed.

Come to think of it, I know  this piece has no sleeve for hanging which is why it never got properly photographed.  More along the lines of this one gives me a lot to look forward to, fiberwise. It's time to climb out of winter's comfy, cozy closeness and aim far and wide.

before the rain comes

It's warm for February, the jasmine on the mailbox has started blooming reminding me I need to cut the crape myrtles back very soon. Like tomorrow.

I've been spending time working on this one with my hands while I work on the writing with my brain; the other part of the brain that wanders all walleyed when you are stitching.

Each element is like a sentence or paragraph in a story that needs to be complete unto itself yet, for the story to be successful, they have to relate to each other in an engaging way.


I've had to completely remove a couple of pieces and start over in the spaces left behind. Brutal editing.

If you notice something odd about the scale of these creatures, good eye!. They are sitting about ten feet apart, acceptable distance per Karma in the foreground.

Juicy (stretching it out in the background) was closing in on twenty pounds the last time he was to the vets over a year ago. Madame K, on the other hand, might be seven pounds soaking wet.

She's been doing better, thanks.