This doesn’t happen all that often, but I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out what to write this week. And then it occurred to me, perhaps that conundrum in itself is worth a few paragraphs.
The first pass of color literally sets the tone for what is to come
The challenge of finding something to share with you every other week, beyond just “I made this and then I made that” is a big part of what has sustained me in posting regularly for – can it really be? – nine years. Invariably, if I keep an eye open, something unexpected will spark an idea and from there it’s a matter of connecting the dots. My goal, of course, is that whatever that particular something is will be of interest to you as well.
Inspired by my sitter, drawing from my button stash was a no-brainer
So as I was driving to the grocery store several days ago, mulling over what I’ve seen, read, talked about with folks, and yes, been working on in the studio over the past couple of weeks, I was still coming up dry. But then it dawned on me: having nothing to write about is something to write about. In other words, running into walls is a given and finding a way around them is just as much a part of my (or any) practice as threading a needle and putting brush to paper.
The embroidery on this piece is relatively minimal. Not only does it encourage a viewer to slow down in her looking, but also to more closely considering the unique qualities of watercolor as the stitches and the washes work together. The hard and fluid edges throughout the work are another nod to the medium.
There’s no gliding through this game; every single detail is worthy of consideration. As Lorene Edwards Forkner of A Handmade Garden has written: “Noticing reveals the invisible”. So if I had to distill into a single element what it is that most feeds every part of my practice, both in and out of the studio, it comes down to two words: pay attention.
The Alchemist ©2023 Elizabeth Fram, Watercolor, graphite, buttons and embroidery on paper, 11.5 x 8.5 inches
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While sewing the buttons on The Alchemist yesterday, I listened to a recording of Jeannet Leendertse talking about her work on Zoom. Leendertse forages seaweed (specifically Rockweed), that she sews into remarkable vessels and sculptural forms. As a native Mainer, I am intrigued by her use of this material that, as I grew up, was as common to me as grass.
© Jeannet Leendertse, Photo by Veronique Hoegger
Noting that she is highly aware of the materials she uses and the lasting impact of her creative process, Leendertse shared a link to Future Materials Bank, a resource that highlights sustainable materials gleaned from the waste stream and artists who incorporate them into their work. Check it out – you will be amazed and inspired.