Planet Textile Threads

Azalea

2008-05-16T12:00:11+00:00

Azalea

-- Jer

Hexagons - endless chain

2008-05-16T11:01:32+00:00

The new stamp went to work on some silk dupion. First step, once the stripes were together, was to delineate the hexagons with hand stitch. Next, I machined all the daisy/star shapes, then added a narrow binding (in the fluorescent orange) round the back.
It didn't photograph terribly well: you don't get the wonderful shine of the "metallic" orange bit, or the limeyness of the green. But while making it I had various ideas for other uses of hexagons.

Related?

2008-05-16T09:41:59+00:00

Yesterday it stopped raining for the first time in days so Choco and I took a different route for our walk. On the other side of the river there is a small dairy farm and half of the year the cows are there and half of the year they are taken out to some far off pasture I guess. Cows seem like very peaceful animals just sitting in the shade and flicking flies but they were very interested in us when we walked by and we had a small stampede greet us at the fence.

"Look at the cows come running to see you, Choco!"

Choco did not want to talk to the cows and the more of them that came to stare over the fence, the more Choco was ready to GET OUT OF HERE! It took me quite awhile to take this picture just because Choco was trying to hide behind me.

They must think Choco is one of their calves that got out, or maybe a long lost relative.

Autumn Forests

2008-05-16T08:14:39+00:00

Autumn Forest #1 For Sale $40US inclusive of postage

Autumn Forest #2 For Sale $40 US inclusive of postage

Autumn Forest#3 For Sale $40US inclusive of postage

I did some dyeing today and these autumn forest fabrics turned out like real bewdies! Just like the trees in the autumn garden.

The top piece is a little sample I am doing. I think I showed a photo of a Syrian horse rug I bought when in Syria- I really liked the colours and it was all half square triangles. I did think I might make a piece with half square triangles but it is not really me so I have been batting my head against the wall trying to think of some way to still get the effect but do it differently. I tried this little piece today- stitching every other triangle- i also laid on some copper banding- i am still in the thinking stages. Maybe I should just freehand applique hand cut triangles on. I will try that tomorrow but now that I look at the piece on the screen I do quite like it.The copper banding will get some hand stitching over the top in coarse black cotton.

I also spent some time making a portfolio book with Viovio. Has anyone used this company? Their system was quite easy to use and you can also upload your own pdf. Anyway I decided to take the plunge and produce my own book of images to do with the work I am doing for my exhibition. ( Th e postage cost almost more than the book- as I used International express post- I thought it was possible to get prepaid satchels in the US for international post?). I will be interested to see what the quality is like and i deliberately used images of different sizes so that I can see what works and what doesn't in case I do like their system.

Bits and pieces

2008-05-16T07:13:25+00:00

I walked today down Bab El Qalk, and in towards Bab Zuweilah. This is the area where the Tentmakers work.

I was taking my time. Every walk at the moment has the weight and importance of a 'last time'.

An elderly man shuffled past, moving fast. His tracksuit drooped about his spindly thighs and hips, slung low enough to be dangerous. It was threadbare in places, with patches of beige showing through - which I hope was his underwear. The legs were too long and had frayed to a long and daggy fringe.

Across his bottom was one word.

JUICY.

.........................................

There is a white horse on the same walk. He (undoubtedly) is always parked in the same place, beside a man with a big fruit stand. He is a beautiful horse - in good condition, firmly muscled and rounded, and pulls a cart that is a patchwork of pattern and paint - bright triangled in red and white and black and green and yellow. Every day as I pass he is turned in his traces, untethered, and his fodder is piled high and bright green on the surface of the cart he pulls. He is always eating, and he never seems to try to wander away.

.........................................

We went out last night to a coffee shop with a singer. I love this place - and there will soon be a whole blog on it. Last night though, I was fascinated by the singer. The sound system must have been set to maximum echo - so the blasting words rang into the room long after he lowered the microphone from his mouth. "Habiby" - which roughly translates as 'my darling' and is the mainstay of all Arabic songs as far I I can see - became 'Hab b b biby y y by by by".

I realised how useful this was as he saw that we were there and rushed over to greet Ibrahim.
He was in the middle of a series of 'habibys' and one long note was sung straight into Ibrahim's ear as the singer wrapped the microphone around Ibrahim's neck to make sure the audience missed nothing. He lowered it with time to greet us with a few words before the last throbbing notes died away, and then took it up again. It is obviously useful to have echoes long enough to have twenty second conversations between them!

Farewell to my spinners

2008-05-16T07:13:25+00:00

I went with my son Sam, to the Friday markets in the City of the Dead a few weeks back. It is a marvelous place - though unbelievably grungy. If you have watched the blog you will have seen several references to it. I took the usual photographs of lots of people. I love the way the faces of the older ones have so much history written into them. On the whole I have found people are happy to be photographed. Now and again I want a pose that the person is holding and take one without their knowledge with my "sneaky camera". Do not worry - I have never ever been abused for it when I take a photo back, though I occasionally worry about the ethics of it.

I went to the City of the Dead again yesterday.

I had a pile of photos to hand out. This is something I do often - copy images to CD, print them off at one of the local cheap photoshops, then take them back to the area where I took them where I hand them out. People are usually delighted and it means that the next time I want photographs of people they rarely refuse. I have almost been mobbed in some places by people hoping I have images for them.

One of the men I photographed with Sam on our first visit there was an elderly man in a long white galabeyiah. He had a marvelously bushy beard, and the beard was dyed bright scarlet-orange with henna. I have since found it can be of religious significance - at the time it was simply a wonderful splash of colour. My request for a photograph led to some catcalling from the men around him, but he smiled, composed himself on his chair with his hands on his knees, and I took four shots in quick succession - two close and two further back. At one point he turned his head to answer a friend's comment - rude, guessing from the laugh on his face - and the shot is side-on but really amused.

I had two of the four printed to give to him - both the more formal versions.

The following week Sam and I went back. I have been dithering for a long time about purchasing an old door. I cannot possibly claim to need it - but I wanted it. Bob had said that he didn't mind as long as I did something with it in Canberra. I had reluctantly come to the conclusion that it was just a silly 'want' but the day before I packed I realised that I might forever regret not buying one while I had the opportunity.

The doors are wonderful. They have that faded and streaked and worn look that can show the past seven coats of paint in wear and scratches on their surface. Palimpsest is a popular element in art and somehow these doors are art forms of their own. Some are carved, some have insets of wrought iron work - curved or art deco. The colours are marvelous - greens and blues and purples, and the occasional one which is just wood turned silver and umber with use and wear, with the oil from a thousand hands soaked into areas where people reach to push it open, or to turn a key. Some come complete with knockers shaped like a softly curled hand holding a ball, feminine fingers forever frozen, and often painted in the same colour as the door. I suspect sometimes, knowing Egyptian painters, because it was just too much trouble to go around the knocker with the paint. Like old men's faces, their history is written in their surfaces.

Opposite my lovely man with the red beard was the best stall for doors and it was in the process of going through the doors that I had spotted him.

We could not see him there so I approached a boy sitting in his rather sad and tatty stall. There were old bits of washing machines, lumps of unidentifiable metal, cardboard boxes flattened down but decidedly tired, and a smashed typewriter - so smashed that it looked as if it had been thrown through a third floor office window in a rage.

I showed the boy the photographs and his face froze, and he shot to his feet. He was muttering about the Sheik - and I realised that one of the men the week before had also called him a sheik. It started to dawn on me from the shock in his face that something was wrong. Then others started to crowd around including a neighbour from the drink stall opposite. I caught the word 'dead' in Arabic.

He had been hit by a boy on a motorbike only a few days after I had taken his photograph, and he had died.

By this stage a fair-sized crowd was gathering. I was still trying to control the photographs, but others were snatching at them, l0ooking, and handing them back. A tall girl in full black, headscarf and long sleeves and dress and coat, pushed through to the front of the crowd. She took one photograph then held it at full arms' length behind her - like a child refusing to return a toy to its rightful owner. Her face - I can only call it stricken!

I kept picking up odd words in the flood of Arabic - like "his daughter" and "no photos". As I realised that she wanted the photo for the family - and had no intention of giving it back anyway - I nodded and she shot away.

I was still numbly clutching the other photograph - but the neighbour from the drink stand begged and I gave it to him.

There was a group of Americans in the small and narrow 'door' shop and no hope that we could fit. Sam and I moved on. Looking back now I realise that I was utterly - quite out of proportion - shocked. I do not think I could have made a decision on a door even if we had been able to go there.

This was the second time in one week that I had tried to return a photograph and found the subject had died. Earlier in the same week I had visited the spinners with a friend and a set of shots taken around February - in a muddy and wet period in Winter. We had not found the men I hoped would be working, and in looking further afield had stopped and talked to a spinner I did not know who was working with his young son.I took some photographs, and they were in the pile I was sorting while talking to Ragab and Ali - two spinners who have become good friends. They had had a similar reaction, grabbing at the photos in shock. I had sent four good images, full face, off to the subject's home with assurances that they would be so welcome - "they will be shocked, and it will make them sad, but they did not have photographs of him except from his wedding."

Two in a week. Egypt has changed me in some ways. It is a country rife with superstition. It threads through the religion, and is interwoven through the folk lore, some beliefs are pharaonic, and some the most modern of conspiracy theories. The same lovely friend who had decried the sacrifice of a hedgehog to save a sister with cancer had calmly arranged to kill a sheep four weeks later when his taxi kept breaking down, despite the money he spent on repairs.

Perhaps I did not really believe that I had caused the deaths - that would be pushing too far when I have always believed myself without superstition - but as we walked away through the mud of the city of the dead, with a small crowd still following us entreating us to bring more photographs, I felt - guilty.

Two days ago I went back to the City of the Dead with Ibrahim again. It was time to say goodbye to my lovely spinners, Ragab and Ali, and to old Hamed, keeper of fifty three tombs, with the face like a kindly walnut.

We sat in a circle in one of the tombs, on chairs borrowed from homes nearby, and in the cool shade of the rooms. Outside Hamed's carefully tended pots of plants were in spring flower - and they had handed me a rose and a 'ful' a fragrant gardenia-like flower. The spinners had told us that the family of the dead spinner were happy to have my photographs, and in a lull in general conversation I mentioned my worry that I might be blamed if people realised that two that I had photographed recently had both died within the following week.

He explained seriously and carefully that every person's birth is a set and recorded date, and every death is the same. There is nothing that can be done to avoid death on that date, and nothing that can be done to die on a different day- as if it is not your time you will not die. I think it is the sort of fatalism that helps them to cope with the concept to death, and certainly there is a sense of closing the door and moving on.

He pulled others into the conversation and they reassured me - obviously amused that I should think I could have the power to change something so thoroughly controlled by God.

There is a story (in the Middle East there is always a story). Ali is walking in the Cairo market and he sees Death, who looks straight at him. He turns in panic and runs to his master's home.

"Master, I have seen Death in the market, and he was looking for me. I must leave and hide."

The master decided to send Ali to relative in Aleppo, in Syria. He put him on a plane that afternoon. Then because the shopping had been forgotten he went late to the market.

He saw Death, but was unafraid, as he felt it was not his time, so he approached him.

"My servant Ali was very surprised to see you in the market here in Cairo this morning."

Death said, "I was very surprised to see Ali here too. I have an appointment to meet him in Aleppo in only four hours."

After fizzy orange with Hamed we walked to Ali's home. He is probably seventy. His face is think and lined but full of laughter. He had a dark ring around his head, as if he has been wearing a hat with black dye that ran into his skin. His hands and arms are stained indigo from the dark silks he has been spinning. He has four teeth, but they are crooked and catty-cornered, like stained old pegs left in the earth for seventy years too long. He wears an old white business shirt, with a double sided razor blade attached to his collar for cutting his threads. Years of loping up and down long alleys beside the threads on his loom have left him as lean as a piece of dried sinew, lanky and fit, despite his age. I have never heard him use even one word of English.

He stopped in the doorway as we slipped off our shoes, and took my right hand in both of his.

"I love you," he said, and tears filled his eyes.

I had a lump in my throat I could hardly speak through.

I love this country, and my Egyptian friends.

Textures

2008-05-16T05:11:42+00:00

Messing around with textural stitching last night...I think I might mess around some more tonight...no doubt this will have more added stuff before it's done.

My day job continues to prove challenging but I'm surviving. When I'm feeling particularly 'used up' in my 9-5 world I think of art and what I'm working on or want to do and - all of a sudden - everything goes into its proper perspective. My day job is a function I have to perform. It is only a part of my life and meaningless in most ways - but necessary. But, the minutes and hours that are spent creating nourish my soul and have more to do who I really am than an A+ on a job performance rating ever will.

Good Things today

2008-05-16T01:35:55+00:00

Started the day today by driving downtown and meeting Rayna Gilman for breakfast. Rayna and I have "known" each other for something like 15 years online, but met for the first time face to face today. She is here (from New Jersey) for the Quilt Market where she is promoting her first book. I can hardly wait to get my hands on a copy.

Don't we look like old pals? That's how it felt. We had a great breakfast at one of my favorite Portland breakfast spots, The Bijou Cafe. What a treat to finally meet the amazing Rayna!

Rayna headed off for the Convention Center and I wandered into the Nordstrom Rack before heading back out to the suburbs. As I told Rayna, the Rack is a crap shoot, but I won today—found a great pair of Clark sandals that I can walk in. (I am sparing you a photo of my feet.)

I finished up some painting in the small bathroom at the house, then went outside, to enjoy the wonderful weather. Today it was in the '80s—our first really warm day this year. It was green and cool by the creek.

Ray is planning to plant native plants near the creek and bought a couple of trilliums, at my request.

I was tired of working at the house, so I called my son-in-law and asked him if he'd like to come and help Ray hang a cabinet and intall a toilet. In exchange I went and took care of Sofia. Win-win. Sofi was dressed for summer weather and looked awfully cute in her shorts and summery top. Oh, those knees and elbows! We had a good time out in the yard until I insisted that she couldn't eat the pinecones. That didn't sit well.

She didn't stay mad for long and accepted a baby cookie as a peace offering. When I asked her if she wanted a cookie, she went straight to the cupboard where they are kept and pointed up at the door. I think she's pretty smart. Good survival skills. I always think it's good to know where the cookies are.

to market, to market...

2008-05-16T00:59:40+00:00

The day is over, I am back in my room, and tomorrow morning I hope to sleep late. We shall see. Being on east coast time, I was up at 4:am west coast time. NOT a good thing. Now it is almost 9pm Oregon time and almost midnight Rayna's body-time. (So I don't guarantee anything).

So, this will be short and sweet?. Busy today - but good. Started the day with a bang! A delightful time and a to-die-for breakfas t with the lovely and talented Terry Grant. What a treat! I simply love it when I get to "know" somebody on line and finally get to meet them in person and they are just a s fun and cool as you knew they would be. Don't you love when this happens to you???After breakfast, Terry went shopping and I hot-footed it over to the convention center. I spent the day wandering around and then attending various sessions given by other authors. Finally, I got my chance to talk about my book and then went to dinner with the wonderful C&T people.

I am going to sleep momentarily and hope to sleep in tomorrow morning - but I have the day free and will make the rounds at Market. Will post again when I can.

Finding a Spiritual Place in Galilee

2008-05-15T15:10:32+00:00

I have been out of touch because we lost WiFi at the kibbutz for a day. Yesterday, we visited two sites that were in out of the way places and off the beaten path. It was much more peaceful. Our guide was asked to give us some quiet time on the bus.

We drove up the Golan Heights to the ruins of a Jewish town named Gamla which is (I think) the Hebrew word for camel. If you look at the photo below, you see the shape of the geography that resembles a ridge on a camel’s back. We did not hike down to the town, we observed it from above. You really can’t see the ruins in this photo. The geography of this area was spectacular. The sea of Galilee is off in the distance.

The site is a nature preserve as well as an archeological site. I enjoyed the various wild flowers in bloom. This thistle plant abounds in Galilee.

We then drove to Korazim, the remains of a Jewish town mentioned in the Babylonian Talmud as renowned for the good wheat grown there. This is the sign which greets visitors.

I include this because rocks and stone are such a presence in this country, even modern homes are made of concrete. But the remains of past civilizations are revealed in the rocks and stones of their homes and crafts.

The remains of the synagogue in this town were especially beautiful. I took lots of photos which can be seen on my Flickr site.

Here is Mr C finding some quiet time in the ruins.

We literally had this place to ourselves by the end of our visit. Our resident priest, Mary Anne, set a table for a communion service. It was a lovely experience to share the bread and wine, from our kibbutz, and served on pottery purchased here in the Galilee.

Just a comment on my last post. I was probably very jet lagged and a little grumpy. I was taken aback by the commercialism, but I am having a wonderful time. But, let me tell you, there is not much free time. Tomorrow we are off to Jerusalem. So excited! I hope to have a chance after dinner to post some photos of our visit to Sepphoris (Zippori) and Nazareth, today.

SMILE! God Loves You!

2008-05-15T14:33:08+00:00

When I was young I remember that my father used to tell me that more than any expensive dress or makeup, a smile made a person attractive. It seems to me that smiling is the root of communication and it lets others know if you are happy or sad, it encourages the speaker and says non verbally,

"I am with you here. I'm trying to understand your message."

Historically, Japanese, and especially Japanese women, don't smile. It used to be considered bad manners to show the teeth and so during the earlier eras women's teeth were blackened. Even now, all formal pictures are taken with stern expressions and wedding pictures always look like such grim affairs from the albums. If any of you have Japanese women friends you may have noticed that they will laugh with their hand held up to the mouth. It is an unconscious habit and extends to even speaking with the hand held over the mouth (making it very difficult for me to read the person's expression!)

As an English teacher in Japan sometimes I wonder what I'm supposed to be teaching. It seems easy enough. English right? But recently I've been trying to teach my English kids to SMILE. For the past few weeks I've been working with a girl who will be going to the States with her family, but she is very quiet. This has always been a very clear cultural difference in my mind. Even when I was a college student the foreign students from Europe, the Middle East and South America blossomed while all the Japanese students stayed quietly together in their little group and studied their books. They just weren't very good at expressing themselves and developing communication skills and smiling, though they were very good in academics.

Of course not all Japanese are quiet and somber but I run into a lot of young women who are similar to my jr. high girl and I can't really figure out why. They don't smile. They don't look people in the eye. They don't answer when spoken to instead choosing to look intently at their books or the table. I have tried teaching that communication (not English) is a give-and-take process, an interaction between people, but most of the time I feel like I'm throwing the ball and no one is catching it, let alone throwing it back to me!

For my student I decided to focus not so much on language but on communication skills. (She's very good at reading and writing!) Eye contact, body language, little ways of conveying that you are listening to the speaker or are thinking about a response, but all this "communicating" is close to torture for the girl and after an hour of this we are both exhausted.

"It is too much to expect her to change her personality at this late date just because she is going to be thrown into American culture. These kids have to be taught communicating skills earlier."

Then I look at some of my elementary school students and see the same pattern in them. And I look at some of my three and four year old kids in kindergarten and already I can see the somber, serious look in the eyes. Maybe it is a safety measure and saying nothing, making no acknowledgement is a way to blend in with the crowd and conform. Maybe it is just cultural. Maybe the people I know are just not happy!

Come on people. Let's start a smile campaign! ^_^

By the way, this is the computer mark for smiling in Japan. Notice the eyes smile but the mouth doesn't! Isn't it this in the international computer world? :-)

Sony recently came out with a camera that won't take a picture until everyone posing is smiling. Hmmm. Either it is going to take awhile before the picture is taken or people are going to learn how to smile thanks to the camera.

A smile is the light in the window of your face that tells people you're at home.

~Author Unknown

kathy

2008-05-15T13:25:21+00:00

I am working this week. I am preparing for a fabric dyeing class this weekend at the Rend Lake Visitor’s center. I have been studying and writing my handout and getting kits ready.

I have also been playing/working in my room. My new best friend is gesso. A friend of mine had given me several books of home dec samples. Being the little hoarding and can’t-waste-anything person that I am, I have found a use for some of these pieces. I usually work fairly small, so these do come in handy. (When, oh, when will I work larger?) I am taking the large florals and painting them with gesso, then painting over that with the Adirondack iridescent paints. I love the whitewashed feeling the gesso does to the fabric. The paint is not put on solid, but a bit randomly. You’ll see. I am using these pieces to frame other small pieces of art. I like the look. Now to find a way to mount them for hanging. I glued (PVA, acid free) the gessoed, painted home dec fabric to matboard, but have stopped there so far. These pieces are not stitched yet. The only problem I see so far, is that the lovely gessoed florals are mostly covered up, but I do like the “framing” look of it.

I am thinking “Fragments of a Life”. What do you think?

Again using scraps…home dec fabric, gesso, acrylics, stamping, dyed craft paper, torn paper from a photo, screening, painted dryer sheets, hand dyed fabric, calligraphy pen. This started with a georgous earthy hand dye I wish I could repeat.

I think I will be adding more to this one. I am thinking more background texture. The home dec fabric pieces have a lovely ragged edge on one side (shown here on the bottom), from cutting them out of the book. I would like to utitilize that.

I am looking forward to soon spending a few days dyeing, painting and screening with soy wax out in my patio…if this cold, rainy weather ever clears up!

Visions and Revisions

2008-05-15T12:00:06+00:00

Your English teacher always told you to revise your essays, right? Well, it turns out that for some people the same adage applies to paintings. Remember this Not-Duck?

Early Wednesday evening, turned on its side and worked over a bit, it looked like this:

Late Wednesday evening, that vacant lower right side was beginning to take shape.

And the moral of that story is -- you can't turn an essay on its side. But you certainly can revise it beyond recognition. --June

New Artwork - Boundary Waters 32.

2008-05-15T11:25:12+00:00

Boundary Waters 32
21″h x 66″w
White cotton fabric, paint, thread.

I finished this piece right before Collage Mania; it was one of those joyful artworks that spring out fully formed.

This artwork is my entry in Art Quilts XIII: Lucky Break at the Chandler Center for the Arts. I’m not entering much this year, but I always enter this show because of the beautiful venue and the personal touch of the curator, Diane Howell.

Boundary Waters 32 obviously continues the series based on my journeys with my sister in The Boundary Waters Canoe Area Wilderness (BWCAW).

The BWCAW is known for its cliffs and rocky outcroppings, worked in endless layers by erosion, volcanic activity, and glaciers. Huge sheet of granite were broken, tilted and folded beginning over 2.7 billion years ago. The end result is the wonderful landscape we are privileged to enjoy as we paddle along: long narrow lakes, jagged shorelines and towering cliffs.

It’s hard to see, even in this detail, but this piece is stitched twice. Once, very irregularly, with invisible thread to mimic the fault lines in the rocks and once, in parallel lines, over the entire surface with variegated rayon thread to mimic the very orderly stacking of the rock. I like the contrast between the jumbled surface and the regimented top stitching as well as the contrast between the two types of stitching.

Raccoon Medicine

2008-05-15T11:02:09+00:00

This morning during my morning meditation time I had the usual brother and sister birds that add to my time with Creator bringing different messages for the day. But today I noticed in the neighbors tree a new visitor, Brother raccoon, a relative of the bear. He came over the fence moved directly toward me as I sat on my perch and without hesitation he made his way over to me face to face. We made eye contact several times as I spoke to him and then I stopped to listened to what he had come to say. Thank you Brother Raccoon for this message today. Ttlazocamati

Excerpts taken from my Animal Medicine cards.

Raccoon: Generous Protector and Provider, the Robin Hood of the Animal Kingdom.

Raccoon is keeper of what goes around comes around. What you give out is what you receive. You give back to the source of your strength. This medicine is also about speaking up in defense when others are silent. An important point to keep in mind is that we have to honor our own needs and the needs of others equally. Being self full is not the same as being selfish.

Raccoon also warns to keep an eye out for what I call energy vampires, those who take and rarely or never give back. Your generosity can be wasted on those who refuse to help themselves.

Whatever raccoon needs, he is going to try to get it in a variety of ways, instead of insisting it come from one direction in exactly a certain way. When you practice flexibility and resourcefulness, there are less limitations in life.

The mask that raccoon wears is sometimes associated with thievery, but it actually is powerful mystical symbolism. Around the world for centuries masks are and have been used to achieve altered states, ceremony, celebration, magical practices, and in healing work. By wearing a mask we are longer whom we thought ourselves to be but become one with other forces. We create a doorway in the mind and in the physical world, a threshold that we can cross into new dimensions and transformation takes place. It teaches us that none of us are quite what we seem, even to ourselves, that in our lives we can experience the freedom of many identities. This medicine helps us to assume and release the many roles we play.

If raccoon speaks to you today ask yourself Are you hiding your true self? Are others hiding their true self? Do you need to present a different face in life for greater success? Are you giving more to others instead of yourself?

Walk with beauty on Good Red Road with a knowing that all is available to you. You need only slow down to listen and to see with clear eyes. Take care of yourself today and be one with all of who you are and always have been. Yocoxcayotl, Paz, Peace

Robert Rauschenberg 1925-2008

2008-05-15T10:22:29+00:00

Screwing up is a virtue.Being correct is never the point.
being right can stop the momentum of a very interesting idea.

Go here for more

neki desu

Light the Way

2008-05-15T10:04:54+00:00

This morning whilst browsing the ABC Website, the Australian national television broadcaster, about Budget reports I came across this article an excerpt of which follows

Women are heading back to the sewing machines writes Clara Vuletich.

"...the satisfaction and empowerment you feel when you have made it yourself is infectious ... it is something we have lost since mass manufacturing was developed. Not only have we become passive and deskilled as modern day consumers but we are also buying into the idea that the fashion system can satisfy our needs." More...

I left a comment which hasn't appeared yet but it seems to me that this is a wonderful opportunity to add our voices by way of comment. I would like to see a thousand voices or more so that they will be forced to look at what this might be all about. In my comment I mentioned not only the very creative endeavours of so many women but also the incredible goodwill I have personally witnessed when I have toured exhibitions- and also the incredible trail of love that textiles leaves on the entire globe- from Blankets of Love for prenatal babies to quilts for homeless and refugees, from Fiber Arts for A Cause, the thousands and thousands of raffle quilts made to raise funds for charitable causes, from knitted beanies for Afghani children ,from the Anat project I witnessed in Syria to Pascale Goldenburg's project with Afghani embroideries in Europe- all done with love and a realisation that there are many many people in the world less fortunate than us. So if you do one thing today- please leave a comment on the ABC website- write in your own language to show how widely the language of textiles travels. Ask your friends to also comment.

Unexpected Benefits

2008-05-15T09:48:43+00:00

...or rather, things I hadn't thought about. I've never had a large enough space to work in so that I could actually see what was going on in a big canvas as I painted it, or even when it was finished. And now I have, hurrah! I painted in the shudio for the first time yesterday afternoon, working on a large (44" by 56") canvas, and the difference being able to step back from it made was enormous. I could see all sorts of things that I wouldn't otherwise have been able to see.

No photos of that, today...it's still in progress, and I'm not entirely sure where it's going, though I have my suspicions. Instead, a photo of the other textile piece I finished yesterday, made from Evolon, with fibers and another of Mike's beautiful beads on it. Titled Fissures I, it, like 'Cracking Up', takes its inspiration from the cliffs at Hunstanton. I'm planning a trip there soon, hoping to find some small fossils as well as take more photographs; it's not far from here. I might go visit the lavender fields, too, though it's a bit early. But I could buy myself some dried roses, or a rose/lavender mix; I love the scent of both plants.

The pleasures of the flesh

2008-05-15T02:15:01+00:00

Speaking as someone who has rather more flesh than I'd like, I'm delighted to see this lifesize painting by Lucien Freud (grandson of Sigmund) has just become the highest value painting ever sold, going for a mere US$33.6 million to an undisclosed bidder. The blog heading is mine - the painting is actually called "Benefits Supervisor Sleeping" - the model was doing that job at the time.

I don't think a similar painting of, say, Kate Moss (substitute the name of any other stick-thin model/actress/celebrity here) would have the same impact, do you?

Getting started with hexagons

2008-05-14T23:55:06+00:00

Found this in an old magazine and started thinking about the challenge for the June "Quilting in Action" regional day in London (7 June, Maria Assumpta Centre; details on the Region 1 website)My first impulse was to stamp rather than sew, and the erasers were the right size for half a hexagon -
One eraser was big enough for a whole hexagon, but the pattern didn't go together quite the way I remembered it...Lesson: don't rely on memory, have another look at your source. This is more like it! -
The fabric was (and is) intended to be used as stripes a la Margo Selby --
but I ran out of time and that will have to wait till another time.

And the Winner Is ?

2008-05-14T21:34:59+00:00

I redid the villages today- and I will redye. Our newish kitten/cat tried to help as well so I had to redo it twice .....pawmarks in black tectile ink didn't add to the atmosphere somehow. I will also keep working on the other one- maybe something wil happen to resurrect it?

Ok and the winner of three coral Variations is Evy from the Netherlands.

On the house front- it's no go zone with the banks because by moving a house I am technically an owner builder and no one wants to lend unless you are actually a builder which I am not- so back to the drawing board ! I really appreciate you all putting positive wishes into the stratosphere for me- somehting will happen!

Welcome to Portland

2008-05-14T17:44:57+00:00

I slept for most of the flight, after having gotten up at 3:30 a.m. Happily, the plane was not full and I was able to get an aisle seat in the exit row- plenty of leg room. Even better, the center seat was empty and the window seat was occupied by someone going to Market -- and we discovered we have common acquaintances. Of course!

The weather is iffy here - gray and chilly. Can I believe them when they claim the rest of the week will be in the 80's and 90's? This is the view from my hotel room and I think the sun is coming out.
While I was waiting for my room to be ready I went in search of lunch and an Office Depot, where I could have more business cards printed because I did not bring enough. In a little while, Anna Faustino, another author and I, are going to head over to the convention center to get our badges and say hello to the C&T people while they are setting up their booth. She in napping; I am talking to you.

I called Terry Grant when I arrived and if we can coordinate our schedules, we hope to have breakfast tomorrow before I go over to the convention center.

I am 3 hours ahead so I'll try to adjust before I need to be perky and lively tomorrow! I'll check back with you when I can.

Fewer Circles...

2008-05-14T16:24:49+00:00

slower running, and some completed work. As well as an Evolon piece, which I'll show you another time, I finished the Texture of Memory piece I was talking about yesterday. Though I may contemplate adding some text to the top layer; right now, though, I'm not sure what to say. Or even whether to say... Perhaps that is another piece in the series...?

As you can see, I've quilted, and added some heavier yarns to the surface, as well as adding a beautiful little glass button which was a gift from friends on Etsy who make wonderful glass and fabulous jewellery. Their shop is here, Gimme Beads (oh believe me, Mike and Madelaine can gimme as many beads as they like... I'll even pay for 'em!). A second little piece of their glass is on the evolon piece.

I've always wanted to use glass in my work; I recently commissioned another piece of dichroic glass from an Etsy friend, Eileen, AKA Chauncey of Chauncey Design, whose work is amazing. I intended using it in a textile piece, but it is so wonderful that I'm keeping it for myself and using it as an inspiration piece, instead. You can see a picture of it here. Joining Etsy has been inspirational at all sorts of levels!