Category Archives: Connection

Something to Lean On

Dear Readers,

Well, here we are.
I’ve spent a lot of time this past week asking myself whether I should confront the elephant in the room in this post, or if it would it be more helpful to just ignore it and stick solely to art & the goings-on in my studio. As you will see if you read on, I’m going to try to straddle that line.

It’s easy to have something in mind, not always so easy to manifest it. I had expected to stitch the house but soon abandoned that process for other options.

I have no doubt that many of you are experiencing a similar range of emotions in the aftermath of Nov. 5th, and that you certainly don’t need to spend time wading through my personal reactions. However, I believe we all benefit from sharing coping mechanisms. This time around, I’m planning to lean into a valuable lesson learned during the turmoil of 2016-20, and will offer it here for you to take or leave, as you see fit.

As the materials I use continue to expand, it’s easier to get closer to what I see in my head down on paper.

One of the most reliable ways I discovered to find relief from the unrelenting angst of those years was through community and the sense of connection I found there. As one of my artist friends sagely remarked at a get-together last weekend, now is the time to strengthen our pods.

Consciously seeking out and finding commonality with others is key — and all the more so now. Believing in kindness, in civility, in respecting others despite our differences and understanding that laws are the guardrails of a civilized society should be a given. But sadly, as we know all too well, it isn’t anymore. As we look to find our way, we can only control what we can control. Now is a time, as Fred Rogers so often advised, to look for “the helpers”, people who bring light into our lives. So often that quality can be found through creative sectors.

Swatching is integral to every painting. I have a huge stack of small sheets like this which have no other purpose other than assuring the color on my brush is what I want to put on the paper. Even so, the end result is kind of lovely in its own right and I save them as a record of each piece.

With that in mind, here are a few ongoing entities and projects that bring me hope. Some of them are local and/or part of the Eye of the Needle community, and some are more ubiquitous. Wherever you live, there will surely be numerous options near you.

Museums and Galleries
Soon after the 2016 election I found solace at an exhibit of Pat Steir’s work. I wrote the following in my blog about that visit, noting the lift her paintings gave me at that particular impass. “...despite my dismal outlook at the end of a weary and unsettling week, Steir’s paintings provided a 30 minute reprieve by offering a much-needed sense of solid ground; her visual language seemingly echoing the weight of what I was feeling while simultaneously bolstering my spirits with strength, determination and certainty“. full post with images
Visit Your Local Library
Librarians are unsung heroes that are there to support everyone in a community in a multitude of ways. Books provide one of life’s best and most reliable ways to take a break – whether through learning or a period of escape.
Go to a Community Play
Paraphrasing local director Monica Callan of Moxie Productions during a recent interview in advance of the opening of her new production, Mauritius: to be in the presence of fellow community members, in the dark, experiencing a different world together is so much richer than streaming an online show on your laptop.
Take a Class
Enjoy the challenges and rewards of trying something new with others. I would love to be able to drop in on reader Kate Godfrey’s portrait embroidery classes in Berkeley, CA.
Check out and Sign up for The Americans of Conscience Checklist
This regular, non-partisan checklist of easily accomplished actions are meant to strengthen democracy and expand equality, one step at a time. It’s an easy avenue toward making your voice heard.
Bonus: they send out a monthly email of “Just Good News”, listing the many positive things that Americans are accomplishing. We could all use a dose of that, even in the best of times.
Look for Projects that Keep You Informed
Knit Democracy Together is an ongoing project created by craft-ivist Eve Jacobs-Carnahan. Eve is a former election attorney who demystifies our election systems via a form of modern-day knitting circles. Her events have expanded beyond Vermont and have been welcomed to numerous other states which appreciate and recognize the need for accurate information.

I’m sure you have plenty of your own ideas; the main thing for us to keep reminding ourselves is that we’re aren’t alone. And perhaps most importantly, as the offspring of one of my good friends said to me, with fist pumped in the air at the end of the artist talk I had just given: “Keep making art!”

Such a Gift

From its inception, I have consciously kept this blog centered on my practice rather than delving any more than superficially into my personal life. This has been partly in an effort to respect my family’s privacy, but also to keep attention focused on the elements I am most interested in sharing within this space: the ideas, art and processes that grab my attention, inform my work, and which I hope will hold some interest for you as well. However, it’s delightful serendipity when occasionally the two legitimately overlap.

This post will be short and sweet as we have just returned from California where we celebrated one of life’s most joyous milestones – our son’s wedding. And quite frankly, I’m too spent, in the happiest of ways, to write very much.

©2024 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor, Colored pencil & White acrylic on paper, 3.5 x 5 inches. While I did bring my supplies, I only had time for one fleeting little sketch last week. The golden hills that are so ubiquitous along the roads and highways of Marin County are so striking – rich as they are with hints of Mars Violet and Burnt Ochre and dotted with the green of both isolated and clumped groups of trees.

But I’d like to take the time to share that it was my son who, when I was mulling over the idea of whether or not to begin a blog in 2014, most heartily encouraged me to dive in, dispelling any lingering fears that were causing me to hesitate. In the almost 10 years since, he has consistently been available – to consult about technical issues, to share authors and podcasts, and to support my nerdy enjoyment of productivity hacks so I could learn to juggle the many artistic and personal balls I want to keep up in the air.

In early June, he sent me the following article from The Convivial Society, which I just loved and knew would be perfect to highlight here sometime. Please read it – it’s a healthy helping of food-for-thought which resonates strongly, not only with ideas I, and maybe you, have been feeling instinctually in my gut (most closely expressing in this post from 2016,) but it is well-worth a read for anyone who works creatively and is wondering where the world of AI will lead us. At its core, it is an affirmation that we can hold onto the things that will always give us the advantage over technology. If nothing else, L. M. Sacasas’ theory would be a great jumping-off spot for future discussions.

Meanwhile, there is nothing more gratifying than realizing a loved one “gets” you by reaching out to engage the thoughts and quandaries that swirl around in your head, but which you may not have quite known how to articulate yourself. In sharing this essay, it’s clear my son is paying attention, and that is the greatest of compliments/gifts.

With that in mind, I’d like to dedicate this post to him and his bride as they embark on their bright future, with deep appreciation for the many, many contributions he, and now they, have made to enrich my journey, both in the studio and outside of it.

Here’s to you SBF & OGW…and from the bottom of my heart – thank you.

This Moment in Time

We’ve reached the 5th and FINAL week
of my Summer Stories Archival Sale!

Thank you so much for joining me along the way!

The five pieces described below are 20% off in my web shop, now through 11:59pm August 28th. Find them under the category “This Moment in Time”.
Use the coupon code Moments20 at checkout.
Collectors, don’t forget your special code for 30% off

The work discussed in this post directly addresses a facet of my practice that informs pretty much everything else – which, if you’ve been following along this summer, won’t come as a surprise. A large part of what spurs me to make art is no different than for most artists: the act of paying attention. Observing and appreciating common, often seemingly insignificant sights or moments gives me a grounded sense of connection with the world and my place in it. It’s a large part of what makes me tick.

Without intending it to be so, at least consciously, I always seem to be on the alert for the un/common things that make up the fabric of our routines. Or maybe it’s just that they are the spoonful of sugar that sweetens any regular day, so I’m inclined to notice. Regardless, finding ways to manifest and translate these discoveries through my work is a way to both hold onto them and to share them, knowing that others will also recognize the substance in their universality.

October Grasses

Our first fall in Vermont, fifteen years ago, we were so grateful to be here. That delight affected everything around us. The sky seemed unbelievably blue and the grasses along the roadside shimmered like gold in the bright sun. I hadn’t experienced autumn in Vermont since my college days, but the old exuberant feelings that accompanied the changeover from summer resurfaced with a vengeance as the temperatures dipped and the leaves turned.

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When Birds Fly South

As the days become noticeably shorter and the woods become quieter, the fields of northern Vermont turn to a beautiful mix of ochres and russet. One of the things I most appreciate about living in our rural state is being surrounded by so much open space. Looking into the distance – whether toward the mountains, or across a field that has been left wild or is well-tended by a farmer – is a luxury, one I appreciate every day.

As every Vermonter knows, the wildflowers and grasses by the side of our roads are in a constant state of flux. One becomes accustomed to what appears when, acknowledging each change as another marker of the passing weeks and months. As I have written here often, living within the seasons is a source of constant pleasure and inspiration for me.

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How does one capture the thoughts that rattle around in our heads? Ideas form and then break apart as they flicker in and out of focus, sometimes sticking like glue, other times flittering away into nothingness. Nebulous as these moments are, they have the power to elevate with excitement or to weigh one down like concrete, reverberating long after the moment has passed. They are the epiphanies that open windows and the regrets that isolate. It’s a phenomenon we all experience and have to learn to live with, in whatever way we can.

Fractured Thought

Lingering Comment

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Chipotle With Beets

Beautiful, unexpected color combinations show up in the most unusual places – one just has to keep an eye out for them. Finishing a lunch of whatever it was I’d made the night before that included chipotle and beets, I was struck by the gorgeous magenta and saffron-colored drippings that remained on my white plate. I snapped a photo and then went straight to the studio, looking to recreate that visual “zip”.

Chipotle with Beets detail, Textile Collage

My summer has flown! And now that we’ve reached the end of this project, in the words of our Looney Tunes friends…that’s all folks!

I hope you’ve enjoyed stepping behind the curtain with me this summer and that perhaps it’s given you a chance to consider some of the deeper layers of backstories behind your own work or the art you collect.

Final reminder: use the coupon code Moments20 for your 20% discount on the above pieces in my web shop. They will remain on sale through 11:59pm August 28th. Enjoy free shipping within the continental US.; these pieces are ready to hang. Thank you.

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Now it’s time to think about new projects as we head into fall. But first, I’m off for a much-anticipated and joyful family celebration that will undoubtedly hold many moments, large and small, that will eventually filter into future work. See you soon!

Empowerment

Looking to feel uplifted? Read on.

First, check out artist Denise Gasser on the April 18th episode of the Art Juice podcast. Even better, if you know a creative young mom who’s at a stage where she feels like she can’t keep her head above her parenting duties long enough to create the work she wants & needs to make, share it with her. Then go one step further and include the link to Gasser’s blog post “A Love Letter to Every Busy, Tired, Creative Mom“.

#215 ©2020 Denise Gasser, Mixed Media on wood panel, 7″ x 5″, from “Art After: Reconciling Art and Motherhood” I bought this painting for several reasons: First, its simplicity – only 3 elements, yet they speak volumes. Similar to a formal garden, I love the stark combination of geometric and organic shapes. And more sentimentally, it reminds me of the light and the sky in Hawaii, where we were living when I was at the stage of life when motherhood was all-consuming — with the added significance that it was during those years that I first happened upon working with textiles as a way of balancing creativity with motherhood.

While the gist of the podcast discussion surrounded social media and ways that it may be impacting and influencing our art, it wasn’t that aspect that caught my attention so much as when Gasser talked about her work as a facilitator. She mentors and inspires artist/mothers to continue with their art after motherhood despite feeling like there is no time (let alone an extra ounce of energy) for anything beyond being a parent.

In the video above, Denise shares how she worked through that issue herself with her series “Art After: Reconciling Art and Motherhood”. As a mother of four boys, the series was begun as a way to bring together, acknowledge and honor her dual roles as artist and as mom. Leaning into reality, she began making 5″ x 7″ paintings, working on each only until she was interrupted by her kids. On the back of each piece she documents the time spent on the painting and what interrupted her, as well as the number of the painting in the series.

More than 200 works later, she had the makings of a solo show. It’s such a great example of the empowering wisdom that taking even just one step a day will get you a lot farther after a week, a month, a year than not taking any steps at all.

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And then, looking at the other end of the age spectrum, I happened upon the Legendary Grannie Gang on Instagram last week and was absolutely smitten. Lovers of knitting, superheroes and fearless grannies: you too will find photographer Susanne Krauss‘ irrepressibly joyful portraits irresistible. I think we could all benefit from a bit of Granny Power these days.

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Springhouse ©2023 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor, graphite and embroidery on paper, 5 x 5 inches. Spring may have been slow to come this year but the colors in the hills as the trees leafed out have been spectacular, more than making up for the delay.

Gathering Loose Threads Together

Several seemingly unrelated items have been swirling in my head since last time, their connections becoming more apparent as I write.

On a recent episode of the “A Brush With…” podcast, Ben Luke talks with Billie Zangewa, an artist who hand stitches imagery that straddles the line between the highly personal and decidedly universal. Having grown up in Botswana, now living and working in Johannesburg, South Africa, Zangewa’s goal is to challenge existing representations of Black women. Yet her brightly colored, intricate compositions of silk and stitching also explore overlooked aspects of many women’s lives (she refers to this as “daily feminism”). Her perspective is very relatable, especially to those who try to juggle a creative career with family and home life.

What I would have given to hear this podcast 20 years ago when I was always on the lookout for mentors who were able to balance motherhood with their art, without the benefit of hired help. So many young women are very successfully doing just that today; I am learning from them in hindsight. Yet even if that particular subject isn’t your concern, I think you too will enjoy listening to Zangewa ebulliently discuss her practice, her influences and her art.

Along the same lines of life and art overlapping, the other gem that grabbed me was a quote from the book Hamnet by Maggie O’Farrell. If you haven’t read this novel (again, with a woman at its central axis point), put it on your list! I’ll let you discover its premise, but suffice to say it’s beautifully conceived and written, touching on a subject appropriate to our current time.

Maple Pecan Pie ©2021 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor and Pencil on paper, 5 x 5 inches I couldn’t stop thinking about sketching while I cooked and baked for our Thanksgiving meal. My counters became an ever-evolving still life.

My greater point, though, is that a skilled writer can conjure images that are so relatable that even mundane impressions become solidly locked into place in new and elevated ways, leaving one marveling with a deeper understanding. For me, often immersed in the art of embroidery, the following analogy is brilliantly applicable to a variety of things that belie their surface appearance.

It is so tenuous, so fragile, the life of the playhouses. He often thinks that, more than anything, it is like the embroidery on his father’s gloves: only the beautiful shows, only the smallest part, while underneath is a cross-hatching of labour and skill and frustration and sweat.”

It makes one think of the proverbial duck who seems to glide across the pond, yet whose feet are furiously paddling beneath the surface, not unlike a busy mother. And, I can’t help but think of the work of Cayce Zavaglia, master embroiderer, who lately has been exhibiting the backs of her larger-than-life, super realistic embroidered portraits (versos) and her paintings of the same. Her intent is to highlight the “divergence between our presented and private selves”.

Sandra 5 (verso) ©Cayce Zavaglia,

With all the above said, this past Tuesday as I looked at the calendar I realized that this very week marks Eye of the Needle’s 7th anniversary of uninterrupted weekly, and for the past two years, bi-weekly posts. In fact, this is #315. I have always seen this blog as source of connection – both with the greater art world and with you.

But what I have come to most appreciate and to value about this practice (and I do think of it as a practice) is it has allowed me to be more deeply engaged in my day-to-day, paying closer attention to underlying connections which most often arise unexpectedly. In many respects, this is a space to pull those loose threads together. Through the act of writing I become more cognizant of what I think and feel about the many, often humdrum things which somehow end up influencing my ideas, and in turn manifest themselves in what I make. And that is really the meat of this particular post. I hope that by sharing my relationship with those moments, you too have had cause to reflect on new perspectives – or to reconsider old ones – in a fresh light.

How Is An Artist Like A Maple Tree?

What a delightful week this has been!
With temps in the 60s, our snow piles are receding and the garden beds are reappearing. “Snow Moon” is now complete, just in time for me to turn the page on winter and to fully welcome spring.

My last post showed the first of 4 panels for “Snow Moon”. This and the two below are the other three.

First a bit of news. I spent the better part of two weeks in February writing an 800 word narrative about my practice, weaving together the threads of background, inspiration and process in a peek behind the curtain of what I do. Happily, it was accepted as an “In The Studio” post for the Surface Design Association blog and was published there last week. Please take a look.

Some figuring was necessary to be sure the moon read as a sphere despite the change in plane from the front of the house to the roof around the corner. I needed to create two circular stitched resist areas – one on each panel – adjusting each so when they came together the moon would read as one image

Moving on, this week’s post is all about sharing creative sparks.
I find fresh inspiration often accompanies the change of each season and, to that point, the last couple of weeks have set the stage for fresh ideas via an abundant line-up of online talks and exhibits, giving me much to think about and to be inspired by. Hopefully one or two of the links below will get your springtime creative juices flowing, much like the sap of our iconic Vermont maples.

Of all 4 panels, this is my favorite.

First off, the Vermont Studio Center arranged for Janie Cohen and Rachel Moore, executive directors of the Fleming Museum and the Helen Day Art Center respectively, to have a conversation (watch here) about how they are navigating the choppy waters of taking their institutions forward with the goal of becoming more racially just. Cohen also addresses this monumental task in the Seven Days article “Vermont Museum Leaders Reflect on the Past and Pandemic Present to Rethink the Future“. The whole article is important, but scroll to the section entitled The Museum of Truth and Reconciliation for her contribution.

Each panel is stretched over and basted to its corresponding house-shaped cut-out made of Peltex.

Last week was rich with separate real-time slide presentations/artist talks by Bisa Butler, Lissa Hunter, and Susan Brandeis, broadcast from Wisconsin, Maine and North Carolina. Each of these three inspiring artists sits on a different branch of the diverse textile-art tree. Take a trip through their websites to see their amazing work, or search Youtube where they all have talks/videos to view.

The sides are stitched together with a blanket stitch

It was a particular pleasure to listen and watch while one of my art heroes, Dorothy Caldwell, compared notes about practice and inspiration with her fellow artist and friend Claire Benn. Their conversation is also available on Youtube; watch it any time.

After long days of embroidery work, seeing the structure complete is always a treat

As Spring grabs hold of our spirits and senses, the Museum of Fine Arts in Houston is currently showing “Hockney – Van Gogh: The Joys of Nature“. It brings together two giants whose love of the natural world formed the basis for much of their work…perfect inspiration for this time of year! Listen to the accompanying lecture by Ann Dumas, consulting curator of European art, as she compares their work in detail, offering insights while guiding viewers through a tour of many of the pieces in the exhibition.

Snow Moon ©2021 Elizabeth Fram, Stitched-resist dye and embroidery on silk with foraged branches, 18.5H x 9″w x 7.5″D The feeling of being in the woods is enhanced by the branches, don’t you think?

Special thanks to a generous reader who alerted me to the opportunity to take a virtual walk-through of “Richard Diebenkorn, Paintings and Works on Paper, 1948-1992“ at the Berggruen Gallery in San Francisco. Click on the Viewing Room tab of the gallery’s website to be granted access. It’s high-definition viewing at your own pace, with the ability to zoom in on Diebenkorn’s inspiring work.

Living With Distance ©2021 Elizabeth Fram, Stitched-resist dye on silk with balsa wood and silk organza, 8.75″H x 6.5″W x 6.75″D I snuck this piece in around the making of “Snow Moon”. Although similar to “Isolation“, the inner house in this one is smaller with brighter colors, suggesting adaptation and acceptance.

And finally, you may remember that in 2017 I wrote about the thrill of seeing works by Diebenkorn and Matisse together at SF Moma. In that spirit, and as a chaser to your shot of Diebenkorn at the Berggruen, check out the documentary “Becoming Matisse” in which Matisse’s great-granddaughter Sophie, an artist herself, accompanies us through the stories, family photographs, and locales where Matisse lived and worked. It reveals the person behind the icon.

Mud Season will soon be behind us and, with more and more people becoming vaccinated, we will all soon be out and about. Yet I can’t begin to express how meaningful all these opportunities have been in the interim. It’s particularly encouraging to hear art professionals from all sectors of our field continually mention how the pandemic has precipitated change in their work and institutions, generating adaptations that have made these benefits available in ways that weren’t imaginable a year ago.
I surely hope this new era of accessibility will continue. Please leave a comment and/or link if you have an online experience to share.

One Thing Leads to Another

Alyson Stanfield > Beyond the Studio podcast > Andrew Simonet > Artists U > Making Your Life as an Artist

A huge thank you to Alyson Stanfield of Art Biz Success, who recently put out a call to her Facebook connections for recommendations of podcasts and audio books, and then shared the link to the responses with her newsletter subscribers. I felt like I’d won the lottery in unearthing this treasure trove of new (to me) artist-recommended podcasts to listen to and to learn from while I work. After subscribing to about a dozen(!) of them, I struck gold with the very first episode I heard.

Artists Amanda Adams and Nicole Mueller state that their mission for their podcast, Beyond the Studio, is to help figure out the business of being an artist by “div(ing) deep into the work that happens beyond the studio”. I went back to the beginning of their archives and listened to their inaugural bookclub episode with Andrew Simonet. Simonet was a moderately successful (his words, not mine) choreographer and theater director for more than 2 decades and has transitioned into becoming an author as well. He knows something about the challenges of creative work.

Pennsylvania Peach ©2019 Elizabeth Fram, Ink and colored pencil on paper, 11 x 8.5 inches Like colors seem to have a way of seeking each other out. The cover of this recent issue of Art & Antiques magazine could have been designed to pair with this peach at its peak ripeness and the cheerful summer napkin that kept its juice off my chin as soon as this drawing was finished.

Along the way, he founded Artists U which is based in Philadelphia and is “an incubator for changing the working conditions of artists”. The goal of Artists U is to help artists build a sustainable life and practice. I encourage you to go to the site to read more about them, and then, without delay, download the free book and workbook Making Your Life as an Artist. I don’t care what discipline you work in, this is one of the best, short reads/resources for moving forward with your work that I have come across to date.

One thing definitely leads to another, and the generosity of information-sharing lifts us all.
So with that in mind…pass it on!

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This week My First Peony made its way back from it’s 3+ year stint at the US Embassy in Riga, Latvia, where it was part of the Art in Embassies program. It came back in perfect condition, wrapped exactly as instructed (an occurrence that, unfortunately, rarely happens when work returns from venues far and wide). I feel privileged, especially at this point in history, to be a part of a program that values artwork for its ambassadorial capacity.
If only this piece could talk…

Green Mountain Generosity

Hard to believe, but 2019 marks 10 years since our nest emptied and my husband and I moved north. Relocating to Vermont was one of the best decisions we ever made.

It may be small and sparsely populated compared with most other states, but the people here are fiercely engaged — globally, nationally, and locally. That attribute has proven true – and then some – for the art community as well. It is a strong and vibrant force that, by the way, is fully supported by our congressional delegation who have continually gone to bat to maintain NEA funding, recognizing the importance of the arts to our economy and our well-being.

Amaryllis ©2018 Elizabeth Fram, 11 x 8.5 inches, Ink and colored pencil on paper One of my goals this year is to incorporate color into my sketches / drawings. Bear with me as I start to figure this out.

But above and beyond that, the generosity of many of the artists I have met here sets a tone I haven’t experienced in the other places we have lived, and that humbles and inspires me. In the decade that we’ve lived here, I’ve gotten to know some remarkable people whose commitment, not just to their own work, but to those of their fellow artists, is quite remarkable. There are numerous (too many for me to outline here) Vermont artists who, in my mind, lead the way by forging connections between their work, and/or the artwork of others, with the community beyond the art world, for the betterment of all.

All that said, I was particularly moved by the most recent newsletter from Barre painter Patricia Leahey Meriam. It underlines her devotion to her art beyond commerce as she fosters the indescribable connection we all seek between our work and those who view it — and hopefully want to live with it.

In addition to the many other hats she wears, Patty Meriam makes work that promotes environmental activism. Among other honors, it’s worth noting that last year she was inducted into the National Association of Women Artists. But beyond those distinctions, Patty has committed to donating 5% from the purchase price of her work to a cause of the buyer’s choice from a list of organizations that she also supports. Pretty remarkable!

But to get back to my main point, please read her newsletter The Joy of Giving, which goes one step further. It details how she set out to give away one work of art to someone who loved it but who felt it was beyond their fiscal reach, and ended up giving away six pieces. When you read the quotes from the request letters she received, you too will be moved by the power of art to truly affect lives and I think, like me, you will marvel at and find cheer in Patty’s benevolence.

On a different note:_______________________________________________________________________________

One of the final highlights of 2018 for me was learning that my work has been selected for the 2019 Textile Biennial at the Museum Rijswijk in Rijswijk, Holland. To give you a feel for what is in store, you can view 2017’s Biennial Exhibition here. Note that their website allows for translation into English.

A Week with the Tribe

To say that my week at the Vermont Studio Center was amazing is beyond an understatement.

First day, empty studio

I had plenty of room to spread out — loads of wall space, two long flat tables, and area for my easel, drying rack, and bins of supplies without any fear of tripping over something.

Quite the view out my studio window

It’s hard to describe the euphoria of spending a series of unimpeded days in the company of over 50 visual artists and writers, each as thrilled as I was to be immersed in the freedom of having the better part of a week to work through any and all artistic impulses with no other worries, let alone the daily responsibilities which tend to constantly interrupt ideas and progress.

©2018 Elizabeth Fram, Stitched-resist Dye on Silk, 13 x 22 in. By layering organza over raw silk, each dyed separately with different stitched-resist patterns, a wonderful holographic-like effect was created that is difficult to capture in a photo.

Our studios were accessible 24 hours a day, the food was plentiful, fresh, and delicious, and the ready conversation was intriguing and warm. One could work for hours on end in solitude without thinking about anything but art, yet find instant connection and camaraderie across the table at every meal. Companionship was readily available when sought, but there were no overtones of rudeness or guilt for choosing to hibernate in one’s studio in order to keep working.

The scope of work being made was wide and inspiring, as anyone who attended the Open Studios on our final day certainly experienced. And it was a gift to have the fresh eyes and vibrant conversations that public visitors brought with them on that afternoon. It was a week of experimentation and exploration for me, testing and mixing new and diverse shibori patterns, with the goal of discovering new frameworks for future stitched imagery. Many of us don’t often have, or necessarily want, input on work that is so early in its progress, but I was grateful for the fresh insights that cropped up during the studio visits.

©2018 Elizabeth Fram 1. Stitching a big circle. The following images represent steps of a process, leading to the finished piece. I didn’t get as many photos as I should have along the way, but these show the major stages.

©2018 Elizabeth Fram 2. Folded cloth. I didn’t realize I’d forgotten to take a photo of the finished dyed circle until I’d gotten this far in the folding process – and couldn’t bring myself to go back.

It wasn’t surprising that many experienced hills and valleys within their work during the week. If you spend any time at all talking with artists, hurdles are a subject you can count on surfacing. Collective experience and the gift of time brought quick turn-arounds, but knowing how pervasive self-doubt can be, it seems both timely and appropriate that Nela Dunato Art & Design’s latest blog post deals with this issue. Check out what she has to say for a refresher that suggests ways to work around this very common stumbling block.

I can’t say enough good things about the week. And as is often the case, the best part was the other people. We arrived for the most part as strangers, but I think everyone left feeling more connected and uplifted by the sense of togetherness the week offered. It really did feel like being part of a tribe.

Savoring Connection

This is my studio after the last-minute push to get all the details of Drawing Threads in place. It looks like a war zone but, despite the chaos, there is a satisfying sense of quiet hovering over it now that makes me smile. Studio On the other hand, there is no way I would share a photo of my desk…let’s just say I am working among so many precariously balanced piles in order to get this post written, that I am barely breathing in the hope I don’t knock anything over.
Next on the agenda: tackle the mess so I can get back to work in an open space, with a clear head.

Long Wall

The past week has been a wonderful ride. I am so grateful for the words of encouragement and support that came from far and near in the days leading up to the opening reception, and for all those who came out on a beautiful, sunny Sunday afternoon to celebrate with me.

The lasting gift of the event was enjoying the opportunity to discuss my process and incentives with non-artists and artists alike, answering their thoughtful, in-depth questions and hearing about the connections they drew from both the sketches and the stitched pieces to their own experiences and/or artwork. For one who often spends hours and days working in solitude, listening to countless podcasts or “chatting up” my four-legged studio assistant, it was an unparalleled pleasure to have every one of those discussions.

Snug / Pick Up Sticks

And don’t you agree that, above all, it’s a sense of connection we strive for, no matter what medium we choose? So when that often elusive aspiration hits home, the reward is immeasurable.

Treats

Interestingly, a recurring point many made was that, while my photographs are crisp and their colors true, seeing the work in person was was somehow different. I think that is often the case with the tactile medium of textiles.

It brings to mind the countless, excellent reproductions of the Mona Lisa and Whistler’s Mother I have seen through the years, yet when I finally saw them in the flesh, I was taken aback by the beauty they project in person; there is a warmth and vibrancy that somehow gets lost in translation with a photo. And that is just a reality we have to live with.

Peonies

So let me encourage you to go to your local museums and galleries. See the art in person. Even if you aren’t sure you’re going to like what you see, you may be pleasantly surprised. And the unexpected bonus you may find is a sense of connection that you didn’t even know you were looking for.

We’ve reached the 5th and FINAL week of my Summer Stories Archival Sale!

October Grasses

When Birds Fly South

Fractured Thought

Lingering Comment

Chipotle With Beets

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Alyson Stanfield > Beyond the Studio podcast > Andrew Simonet > Artists U > Making Your Life as an Artist

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We’ve reached the 5th and FINAL week
of my Summer Stories Archival Sale!