I’ve been thinking lately about how summer should be a time that follows a different rhythm. If not slower, then it should at least be restorative — a chance to enjoy the extra daylight hours and the delight of walking out the door unfettered by the extra layers we have to cope with much of the rest of the year (not counting, of course, the long sleeves and netted hood I’ve been wearing in the garden as defense against this year’s burgeoning black fly population). Beyond that, and perhaps more importantly, summer should be a time to keep computer work to a minimum, which is what this post is really about.
The beginnings of a new piece, all tied, knotted, and ready to dye
With that in mind, bear with me as I sort through things over the next weeks. The blog and I will still be here each Friday, but I am going to try to write less — an effort to free myself from the laborious editing and polishing that consume so much time. Hopefully that will lead to gaining more hours for the actual stitching and drawing I write about. It will be a way to cut myself some much-needed slack while still sharing what’s going on behind the scenes in my studio, what’s on my mind, and the various miscellanea I run into that I think will interest and, hopefully, inspire you.
As you can see compared to the seam ripper, this is a small piece – the fabric is only 15 x 15 inches. Even so, it took me almost 3 hours to sew and knot the threads. The dye process, however, only took a mere 20 minutes.
I look forward to, and encourage, your continuing comments and emails when something you see here resonates with you. And please let me know how you switch gears to allow for extra elbow room during the summer months – I welcome new ideas.
❖
Apologies to those of you who are also on my general art mailing list; this will be something of a repeat…
Carefully snipping the knots and removing the threads is sticky and laborious business, taking another hour to accomplish. But the thrill of revealing the pattern makes it all worth it.
I was really happy to receive a link this week to the museum-produced trailer for the 2019 Rijswijk Textile Biennial. It has made me all the more excited to go see the show in person this fall. I’m also looking forward to seeing the illustrated catalog of the show, written by Frank van der Ploeg.
Searching the web, I was gratified to find that Textile Forum blog has written about the exhibit, using one of my images, among others, to illustrate the article. Notice of the show was also picked up by TextileCurator.com
The experiment this time was to break the frame down into smaller sections – a pattern within a pattern, so to speak. Also, I wanted to try this arched shape, rather than keeping all lines straight and square.
For those of you who remember Textile Forum as a print magazine, publication was halted at the end of 2013. Since then the former publisher, Beatrijs Sterk, has continued to “report on themes of textile creation, education and textile cultural heritage via (the) blog, addressing all those interested in textile culture”.
If you are looking for in further avenues to learn about the world of textile art, Textile Forum blog, TextileCurator.com, and Textile Is More! are all sites that look to be fruitful resources. Another site I would love to be able to read is Textiel Plus, but unfortunately it appears to only be published in Dutch.
The finished size of this piece will be about 10 x 10 inches. While it’s interesting to see how the dye interacts with the outer edges of the pattern, I prefer cropping the pattern with clean edges along the perimeter, the way they will appear once the finished piece is stretched and framed.
One final resource is The Woven Road – another site learned about through Instagram. What caught my eye was a quote that was attributed to The Woven Road, and which seems a suitable sentiment to sign off with.
“When we engage in fiber arts, we are creating something, but we’re also participating in historic traditions tens of thousands of years old. You are not only making art for your soul and for future generations, you are embodying the work of our ancestors.”
Thanks Betsy! I’ve been thinking lately about the ways the threads.. handiwork.. tie me to my female ancestors.. each had her specialty. A fine seamstress, and milliner, several who embroidered, quilters, knitting & crocheting.. My sisters and I bond over knitting often.
I’m just at a point where I keep wondering what to DO with the pieces that are finished? Pillowcases tatted by great grandma? embroidery in a frame by mom? and oh my goodness, all the knitted pieces I have made over the years? Some is art for art’s sake.. some is given away.. but my walls are very full.. and I’m wondering where these things go?
Mom wrote little notes on pieces she had.. woven tea towel with little girls in sunbonnets on the border.. she wanted to be sure we didn’t miss that! these notes still delight me.. xxoo
You make such a great point.
It used to be that much of women’s hand work was in constant use, so only the very special “for good” items survived to be passed down. It’s an interesting comment on society today that what was once as much a daily chore as preparing meals, has landed in the arena of art for art’s sake, or a form of recreation. It’s lovely if someone from the next generation picks up the baton to carry it forth, but I think much makes its way to jumble sales where those items await collectors or someone who knows how to repurpose them. Maybe Lily will follow in your footsteps?
Your extraordinary embroideries on itajame or shibori will be much more commanding at the Rijswijk than their small dimensions would indicate. The lovely still life with spoon made a perfect end to the video.
You are very kind – thank you!