Last  July I started experimenting with a new approach to my dyed and stitched pieces.
Flipping the coin from the way I’d been working, I started embroidering the imagery with white silk thread first, and then dyed the cloth afterward using a new stitched-resist method that I had begun experimenting with at the Vermont Studio Center in April.

Espresso and Peanut Butter  ©2018 Elizabeth Fram,  In process, Stage 1

My hope was that the silk thread would absorb the color and pattern of the dye process, leaving the image to some degree camouflaged while still maintaining its visual strength. I wanted the viewer to be drawn in by the pattern and to discover the imagery upon closer inspection.  Unfortunately, the results were decidedly unsatisfactory because the image became almost completely lost. It shows more clearly below because the angle of the photo catches the light to its advantage.
To jog your memory, check back to my post “Committing to a Process of Search” to read about my initial stab at this new process.

Espresso and Peanut Butter     ©2018 Elizabeth Fram,  In process, Stage 2

After working my way through the more recent lobster piece (my second attempt at this idea), I returned to the original this week with new thoughts on ways to salvage it from its ghost-like appearance.

Espresso and Peanut Butter     ©2018 Elizabeth Fram,  In process, Stage 3

While there are elements of the process I’d like to tweak, I am definitely making progress toward my initial objective. And more importantly, as I work back and forth between the stitches and the pattern they sit upon, I’m really enjoying the ride.  For lack of a better way of describing it, there’s a satisfying rhythm to considering both image and surface, puzzling out a way to bounce between the two so that they can simultaneously work together and independently, with neither being overwhelmed by the other.

Espresso and Peanut Butter     ©2018 Elizabeth Fram,  In process, Stage 4

Meanwhile, serendipity happened in the form of Neil Gaiman’s 2012 University of the Arts commencement address “Make Good Art”.
The thing about a good graduation speech is that it’s just as inspiring to everyone else in the audience as it is to the graduates…maybe even more so because being older provides the benefit of life experience as a measuring stick. Gaiman’s advice resonates loudly and clearly in its encouragement to make mistakes and to keep trying.

Espresso and Peanut Butter, detail     ©2018 Elizabeth Fram, Stitched-resist and Embroidery on Silk

If you too are attempting to gain some traction in your current work, give it a listen and see if it doesn’t give you a boost.

Espresso and Peanut Butter     ©2018 Elizabeth Fram, 20 x 16 inches unframed, Stitched-resist and Embroidery on Silk