Category: Ideology

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Roundhouse Blues

Red is not a color I typically wear or decorate with, but it is making a big splash in my stitched art. The first pieces where red started was the vintage linen tiles with vintage silk scraps and perle cotton thread keeping it all in place.

The red feels like a crisp contrast to the creamy linen with its slightly coarse texture. Slow stitching gives me a place to meditate, hands working gently to snip and stitch, it is soothing and methodical. Mudita is my 2018 meditation. Sharing the joy of others, mudita, is so vital for us as a collective. We build strength together by shouting in resounding joy–even if its silent in our meditations–like the Grinch our hearts grow and grow.

It can easily come to us to feel left out, neglected, slighted, emotionally bereft and ignored with so much clamoring for attention in the world of unease and war. How do we find a path of peace and the gift of kindness? 2017 was my year for Metta meditation–sending loving kindness to all the sentient beings of the world. Sending love isn’t too difficult until one thinks of sending it to someone who deeply hurt us. Then Metta takes on new meanings. Mudita, sharing in others joy is similar. We might be happy for those we already like or feel good about. But what about when we are confronted with the good news of competitors or those who harmed us?

To open one’s heart for others good news is not so simple when we feel badly. But changing our meditation to open ourselves to hear others good news and feel genuinely happy for them is critical for personal growth and to further peacefulness. Sharing in others Joy is my goal for this year–to stitch, paint and meditate on joy for all sentient beings.

Each of the red works are about 7 or 8 inches and will be appliquéd onto a larger cloth and then machine quilted. I am a fan of combining several techniques and am open to what might happen yet. As this piece progresses or is completed I will share it. The name filtered to me as I was deep in stitching and with mind open, it seems it wanted to be called Roundhouse Blues.

IMG_2885

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sore fingers sharp mind

I’ve often likened myself to a border collie, perhaps you might be one too. You are likely familiar with the legendary dogs, relentlessly working a herd or driving themselves in sporting competition until they have to flop into cool water because of the stress. I also think its possible to have a border collie mind–one darting to and around–herding thoughts and driving oneself to work. This work helps my border collieness by giving me an activity of both mind and hand.

Saturn Series
Saturn Series red section
Couching – Saturn series

Maybe 100 stitches fit into a square inch..although I don’t sew every square inch of the quilt there will be thousands of stitches in a piece that so far is about 48″. No surprise then that my thumb and fingers are a bit sore. A clean sharp needle makes the work much easier, but sharp needles cause more injuries. The accidental and infrequent stabbing of my own hands mostly happens with slight notice. Five or six hours of hand sewing leave my hands tired and fingertips delicately bruised. I have tried different types of thimbles and hand protectors. Not one style has really worked for me yet. Right now I am trying the Thimble-It which is a small plastic oval with adhesive that sticks to the fingertips. So far, the thread has caught on the sticky edge almost every time through and that has slowed me down considerably which makes me cringe more than being injured!

I know what draws me to this work, the repetitiveness I think is the most desirable part of the process for me. Analytical thinking while maintaining awareness of my surroundings are paramount to the final product–until I get to that part of the process–which then becomes an apparent necessity of design. Being able to listen to books and podcasts is vital to the operation–and the focus is intensified and I can retain so much more information when my hands are delicately engaged in repetitive work. I have favorite audio books that I have ‘read’ over a dozen times while sewing. I am convinced that my retention level increases while stitching and time slows while it also leaves me with the perception that there is no time. That trickster reveal, that there is no time, but simply a construct that we choose to abide by much like other constructs of our civilization.

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Seed of Peace

 Peace: for all, for animals, for us. This work contains seed of peace–tucked in the details–safely swaddled and with a bold headdress.

I started regularly asking for peace about five years ago. It eludes me still. Maybe I don’t know in what form peace can enter my life. Until it becomes clear, I’ll make peace in my art. The reflection of peace in the art can shine it’s reflection boldly back out into the world.

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Yellow Box

   

stitch in progress
 
When queried about the yellow box in a recent piece I am stitching, I hesitated to respond. I know why yellow is vital to the piece. I like enigma in art and am not always prepared to explain.

Explaining my art can leave me feeling vapid, exposed and finally, curious: what does it mean to others to ask what it means to me. Then I reflect on that for some time and have to pull back. What do I want to share. How much of me do I share. I am not a selfish being. Helping people and volunteer work is a vital part of my life.
The desire to not share my feelings about my work comes from a place of being solitary. I like solitude. There is comfort in aloneness, making art and having a sense of peace. Spending years out in the country, alone and surrounded by nature, open fields and woods, that setting is a place of deep comfort. I don’t like a life thoughtlessly lived with abandon, but instead prefer focus and measured thinking, analytical and rational thoughts, philosophy and reflection.

Back to the yellow box. It is related to wisdom. And more.

The center. The viscera. Gut instinct. The fire in the belly. Desire. Power. Personal power. Energy . Vitality. Self control. Inner strength. Personal authority. Efficiency. Purpose. Perfection. Will power. Control. Anger.

Focusing on that space allows me to find a balance between inaction and overreaction. It says I have the power to choose. I travel into the yellow box, deep in the maze, amid the noise, the traffic, following the patterns that civilization has already prepared. Finding strength there and relating it to the purpose of my own life…the exploration of my power center. Being contained in the yellow space allows me to radiate this information through my own body space. How do i find my way there…? how do you…?

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Eckhaus Gallery

Sold
The Gallery
Sold
Twilight in the Meadow
Danielle reading poetry

Many thanks to the vibrant and hardworking students of Kutztown University and their beautifully lit gallery on the main street in Kutztown.

These students are smart and resourceful and work hard to bring art to the community. They wrote and asked if I would be interested in having an exhibit at Eckhaus Gallery in the spring of 2016. I agreed and then they handled everything – all I had to do was show up on the appointed date and they were prepared to hang the show with me. After quickly explaining my required selection and placement of objects they set about measuring and hammering.

The conversation was rewarding and it was interesting to hear what they had to say about art and college and their own plans for their art or careers. We had a lot of fun working together – and they were so willing to assist in every way with carrying work, handling it carefully and with respect, arranging for posters, price lists, photographs, publicity and a signboard. Senior students provide structure and have interns working along side to provide support. Their willingness to lead, listen, support and general good nature is one of the reasons I truly enjoy working with student groups. The evening for the exhibit was March 18th and they provided food and drink, a sign board on the street, and interns were there for support to help collectors and guests with questions.

Danielle Notaro – a poetic collaborator dramatized her poetry while giving a tour of my works that were one display. It was a memorable early spring evening!

 

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Finding the look

2016-02-26 15.17.46Several new series were born as a result of doing small studies this winter. The studies are being shown this weekend as a part of exhibition containing a few watercolors and some significant works in fiber that are eco-dyed, handprinted and hand embroidered. I am an irreverent quilter and don’t follow many rules. Sometimes I experiment with fusible, battings and surface design before I quilt. The purpose of it all is to find the look, I am searching many traditional techniques and then bending them to my own style to get a texture and quality that I am not ready to define yet. I’ll know it when I see it.

Cutting on the bias, using my sewing machine, or working by hand, washing, ripping, tearing, machine thread painting, hand embroidery, framing, binding, not binding, giving structure on wood panels, using bamboo to hang work, vintage silk, found objects, eco-dyeing, tea dyeing and over-dyeing, mono-printing, heliotypes, and beading are a few of the ways I am working with fabric now.

2016-01-28 14.51.09-1Emerging are what I call Spirit Cloth’s…they are worked in a meditative state and result in a pure form of hand and mind being one and the same, a positive flow of the spirit of the artist.

There are also images born out of my love for the earthiness of tilling and gentle farming of grains and vegetables. The works include deep night skies and are simply stitched by hand.

2016-01-31 23.49.33-1

Its a great time for me and my need to explore what is available to me in fiber and art. Today I am scaling up one of the series and am excited to find new ways to bring the color and stitching to life…

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Broken Threads

A long night of breaking threads at the machine.

Tea dyed muslin under the presser foot

Needles breaking. Threads breaking. Again and again. Adjusting tension and trying little tricks to keep everything running smoothly.

It happens with hand stitching too. Knotting up, catching a thread on the back, tangling. Sometimes it’s that kind of stitching: tangling and knotting.

Learning to wrestle wrought threads.

wound tightly.

Unbound.

Loosened. Breathing.

Softness.

This is the nature of thread work. It teaches me to allow anger in and out—no withholding of breath. Letting it be its own nature. Turn off power and tidy the sewing room. Go to relax and read a bit

morning. opening the sewing desk and do my morning ritual of preparing the machine with basic maintenance. Open the bobbin case. Get the dust remover, brush and oil. Ahah! The culprit exposed in the sunlight streaming through the window. A tiny speck of shredded rayon thread is barely visible under the auto cutter. Another fine long strand is found at the bottom of the case

I remove the threads, flush with air, brush well, oil bobbin and put it all back together.

Last night I did that twice. But I couldn’t see the small specks of thread. Even with my Ott Light.

Under light of day everything is exposed and seen with clarity.

Learning balance and timing, during fatigue and frustration was not the time to problem solve. Bernina sews like herself again.

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Where does it begin

where does it begin.

lost in the thought
of movement
needle rocks through cloth.

pulling perle cotton over
strands of colored floss and yarn.

textile. machine fingers wove the linen I am tasked with working my threads into.

Jonas. 2016 Artstorm.
  
—– stay in the moment.
watch yet

don’t look. long crewel needle stabs into my hand.
no blood. small punctures. they happen. often. 

the small pain I feel takes me tumbling down cobbled paths of wondering whose labor made these items in my lap.

woman. child. Machine.

bring me back to purpose. stay with the beginning. waiting for the end.

foundation.
 

what is my desire for speed doing here!
! slow !

it down. relax fingers. stretch. back. go again. not so tight.

relax. lost in the motion again.

building my web.

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You.

When I was a kid I drew. And painted. Everywhere. I am born to make things. Kinetic. Creator.

In progress - watercolors, acrylic mono prints, ink pen and eraser.
In progress – watercolors, acrylic mono prints, ink pen and eraser.

I never thought about where the objects I made would hang. Never cared if they sold. Those concepts never entered my mind. All my life I made art to make it—no choice–more like a compulsion. Last Thursday, I went to the NYC gallery where my painting is on display. Friends and family were with me and that made it more real for me that my work is hanging in NYC. I’ve heard others describe it as a dream they always wanted even from childhood. Odd that it never crossed my mind as being that important although I exhibited a few times in the 80’s because I was invited to do a small show.

Until a few years ago. I turned 49 and was on the upswing to 50 when I made a decision that I would exhibit again. I called it Aurora The Third Act. Aurora is goddess of the dawn and what a dawn this has been these 4 years. I am so pleased to be accepted into NAWA and have work in the annual exhibit. And pleased that I create work that brings pleasure to so many people. Although it can seem like it is about me, the artist, its not. Its about the viewer. You. Its about what you see and how you feel and where it leads you when you view the art I make. Together we make art an experience.

This photo is a picture of my tools and work in front of me. I work at a constant pace on paper and reserve my longer bits of time for larger paintings. The small work gets me through rough patches when time constraints are pushing me to and fro, or space is limited and I am on the go. Much like a knitter takes their work along, I take small paper drawings and pens. This work probably won’t end up in a gallery setting but I make it anyway. I use all my skills to create the best possible work at any given time or using any medium.

Lately, string is pulling me into hours of reverie, inventing images in my mind about what I might make with a crochet hook. I have a painting on an easel at home and one in the studio. Yet I don’t feel inspired to go to work on them. Summer was a series of trips and events that took me from home interspersed with the death of 4 people I know. Their passing has left me feeling very bereft and I think of them several times a day. I can’t see them again and have conversation or ask questions, smile with them, hold their hand. Mortality is rearing its head and I am interested in how that plays out in life and art. Life goes forward. So will the art.

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