Category: stitchings (Page 10 of 37)

The Same . . . But Different

June 14, 2014 / jeanne / 0 Comments

Kantha3

Kantha1

(Above photos of kantha stitching by Dorothy Caldwell herself, used here with permission)

Dorothy told us about the women of Bihar, India and how they were under cultural house arrest until one day they decided to go outside and talk to each other about their stitching. The men were nervous – very nervous – until they began to hear the whispers of ka-ching, ka-ching. Once the women huddled-up, they set about changing their lives, their families’ lives, their future’s lives.

For example, knowing that the dwindling profits from fishing were dwindling, they came up with a solution and every day for three months, the women entered the river and pulled the overgrown plants by hand, allowing the fish room to grow and multiply. They tell this story and many, many other stories in stitch using the basic running stitch – in and out, up and down. The kantha stitch they call it, and they use it brilliantly to record their history artfully.

After hearing about these women and seeing examples of their glorious quilts, I set about using the kantha stitch for one of Nancy’s drawings from In Our Own Language 3. I usually use, well, I’m not sure what it’s called, but it’s a basic stitch that I use to trace each drawing, to recreate Nancy’s drawing as a line drawing in stitch. I found using the kantha stitch with colored thread a playful way to stitch Nancy’s drawings, and I ‘spect you’ll see more of the colorful kantha pieces in the future.

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Presented here, separately then side by side, are two stitched versions of the same drawing. Same drawing, different looks. The plant? It’s a moon flower, a little something my husband surprised me with from this morning’s pre-workshop romp through the New Albany Farmer’s Market.

Before we thread our needles this morning, Dorothy invited me to talk about Nancy and how she draws and I stitch. I showed them In Our Own Language 3 which is not even half finished yet, and let me tell you: the open, loving reception and the ensuing stories they sprinkled on me throughout the day will warm my heart for a long, long time.

The women of Louisville Area Fabric and Textile Artists (LAFTA), who made this workshop happen, are some of the most hospitable, engaging, talented, interesting, supportive women I’ve happened upon in a long, long time. Mega, uber thanks to Kathy Loomis, Dorothy Caldwell, MJ Kinman (who will soon have a blog for me to direct you to), Rosemary Claus-Gray, Joanne Weis, Linda Henke, Linda Fuchs, Sue Yung, Marti Plager, Linda Theede, and Debby Levine for making this such a marvelous, magical time. And, as I told Dorothy as I hugged her ‘bye, I’m not much of one for sheri worship, but if I was, she’d be The One.

look closely and you just might catch a glyphs of it

June 12, 2014 / jeanne / 2 Comments

Judaculla1

Judaculla Rock, a boulder covered with petroglyphs is not far from where we live.

Judacullafield

We had trouble finding it . . . probably because it is right out in the middle of a field. Hidden in plain view.

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Archaeologists estimate that most of these glyphs are between 300 and 1500 years old. It is thought that this petroglyph is on the site of a council house mound and served as a boundary marker for Cherokee hunting grounds which were closely guarded by the legendary giant and master of animals, Judaculla.

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(In Our Own Language 3.79)

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(In Our Own Language 2.2)

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(In Our Own Language 3.102)

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(In Our Own Language 2.2)

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(In Our Own Language 3.56)

As we walked around the rock, I was taken with the similarity between these drawings and Nancy’s drawings, finding both evocative and an invitation to introspection and wonder.

I am tickled beyond description to be participating in a two-day workshop with Dorothy Caldwell exploring human marks and expressive stitching. I’ve long admired her work and though our work varies in its theme, focus, and purpose, I am hoping to conjure ideas (as in be inspired) for faster and creatively intriguing ways to present Nancy’s work. In her talk tonight, Dorothy showed photos of petroglyphs she saw while working in the Outback of Australia, many bearing a striking resemblance to those on the Judaculla Rock.

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(In Our Own Language 3.260)

Most petroglyphs tells the story of the people who lived there; some offer directions, warnings, or blessings. often wonder what Nancy is saying with her drawings, with her marks. My theory is that she’s expressing her emotional response to what’s happening around her.

In Our Own Language, indeed.

the janus approach

May 9, 2014 / jeanne / 2 Comments

Rinsecycle7a

we trekked to the cemetery, that stormy morning in april, in search of tombstones to rub, transferring their images to our cloths. as we pulled away from art camp with susan lenz two days later – i mean, we were literally about to back out of the parking lot – i got a call that my friend valerie along with her husband and their daughter had died when their house burned.

who knew cloth could commit foreshadowing . . .

Rinsecycle7b

right on the heels of that, another call that my 32 year old cousin billy – who, over the past 14 months had endured everything science had to throw at his cancer and was waiting for tests in june that would determine the success of those treatments – was not doing well. in less than 2 weeks, he went from eating a bowl of grits at the kitchen table to back in the hospital for more tests. that was saturday, 4/26. on monday (4/28) came the news that the cancer had spread to his brain. on tuesday (4/29) came the news the cancer had spread to his spine. a week later on sunday (5/4), billy was moved to hospice. last night he took his last earthly breath.

“come make him laugh,” his mother mary said when she called me. my husband, mother, and i spent that wednesday afternoon at his bedside telling the old familiar family stories. legends, really. i told the same ole’ stories – even used the same ole’ words – and we still laughed till our sides split. stories are like that.

days later, his mother pulled her chair up close to billy’s bed and let the memories spill right out of her heart. for more than two hours, she told billy good memories she has of him. “i just wanted him to go out with lots of good memories,” she told me. i don’t know about you, but i can’t think of a finer send-off.

he’s only 32. billy is only 32 years old, and i just want to go on record saying that i find it especially cruel that a mother has to bury a child (especially so close to mother’s day) and that a 32 year old as good and fine as billy should die in the spring.

Rinsecycle7h

today we bury another cousin, a quiet man who served in the vietnam war. he didn’t raise his hand to go, but when he was called, he went. my last memory of theron is of him telling stories about our grandparents. i was throwing a family reunion in my backyard, and i’d asked everybody to jot down their memories of grandmother and granddaddy so i could include them with the cookbook of grandmother’s recipes i’d created. not much of a writer, theron called me and talked for more than 3 hours, spilling one precious memory after another. to this day, i cherish those hours spent sitting on the back deck, looking around at all that needed to be done in preparation for the reunion, but not even really seeing it as i trekked down memory lane with theron.

Rinsecycle7e

it’s been an emotionally rough spring.

Rinsecycle7i

that’s not the whole story, though . . .

i just got a text message from my sister-in-law, carole, that her daughter/my niece will not be having her baby today – her labor will not be induced, anyway. we’ll just have to see what mother nature has to say about things.

tomorrow we celebrate the anniversary of my beautiful, precious daughter’s birth. on March 19 of this year, she had a partial thyroidectomy. she’s an actor and a singer, so of course we were on pins and needles about someone cutting on her throat. but my brother-in-law donn steered us to a surgeon who did an outstanding job as you can very well hear for yourself.

later this month we’ll join in merriment and shenanigans when my son kipp married the lovely and long-necked marnie. you’ll surely be hearing more about this as the days roll on. (i’m “foreshadowing” over on facebook, if you’d like to connect there. you’ll need to be logged in for the link to work.)

Rinsecycle7g

we have memories. oh good lord, do we have memories – and that’s something you just can’t buy, regardless of how much money you have. memories . . . stories . . . those are treasures far greater than any amount of gold or silver or real estate. greater than any fleet of planes or drawers of diamonds or walls filled with paintings.

stories are art. so let’s get on out there and make some art today, why don’t we.

(but maybe forego the tombstone rubbings.)

(just sayin’.)

The Engineer & The Artist Do Art Camp: Day Three

April 5, 2014 / jeanne / 3 Comments

Communion12

Communion 12

I’ve long ached for an epiphany – for things to come whooshing in, connecting, clarifying, lining up. I’ve witnessed it happening to other women, and I’ve held the space for women so it could happen for them, but I’ve never had The Big Epiphany myself . . . until 4:50 this morning when I woke up with a start and clarity like I didn’t know was possible. I saw cloths, I transcribed my artist statement, I knew what I do and do not want to do. I couldn’t turn the light on, though, cause Andy was sleeping, so I just sent myself an email and when I copied it into my journal later this morning, it filled almost 20 pages. Astonishing in every way.

Communion10

Communion 10

(Communion is the series where I stitch what conversations with Nancy look like.)

I designed eleven cloths today, basting each one of them so that they’re ready to stitch. Yes, that’s right: eleven.

Communion14

Andy threw some more pots, but honestly, I’ve lost count. Late in the afternoon, I did accept an invitation to join the potters who convened on a nearby bar for drinks, and what a fun bunch they are! After supper, it was back to the studio for me. I could stay here forever.

Communion11

The Engineer and The Artist Do Art Camp: Day Two

April 4, 2014 / jeanne / 7 Comments

“breakfast starts at 7:30,” he says in a bit of a startle when the alarm clock goes off at 7:10 this morning.

“so?” i say, rolling over for (at least) a 10-minute snooze.

“so we need to get moving,” he says in a tone that’s rather annoyingly urgent.

we have breakfast, and as i look forward to heading directly to the studio to start working on something – anything – he reminds me that class doesn’t start till 9, even though the studios open at 8. his engineer is showing.

when we meet for lunch, he’s thrown another 6 pots:

Arcpots2 1

AND he tells me that he’s gotten over his bout with perfectionism. i clap a little bit, delighted to know that he’s embraced the wonkiness factor:

Arcpots2 3

by the time we met for supper, he’d glazed all his pots and finished a face jug:

Arcfacejug2

[ :: ]

meanwhile, my day started out with a trip to the local cemetery where we did a few tombstone rubbings before the downpour turned us back an hour or so ahead of schedule. this is the one i rubbed:

Graveyard2

back in the studio, i set to work dressing up my key a wee little bit:

Key2

and laying out and basting Rinse Cycle 5:

Rinsecycle5f

Rinsecycle5e

as well as Rinse Cycle 6:

Rinsecycle6a

i can’t begin to describe how relaxing it is to spend so much time in the studio. (even if i haven’t yet completely tucked in and shed the outside world.) oh, if my life could be like this.

there is stitching in my immediate future. and a lot of it.

[ :: ]

today’s bonus:
as we left the fiber studio when andy came to pick me up for lunch, i said i wanted to start putting in at least 37.5 hours on writing and stitching each week to which he said “and you need to get your studio so that it’s conducive to creating space wise.” oh man am i ever glad he came now cause after being in this fabulous fiber studio a few times, he sees how important it is to have a space that loves it when you’re creating. even if he hasn’t thought about the fact that i’ll need his help to make changes.

The Engineer and the Artist Do Art Camp, Day One

April 4, 2014 / jeanne / 2 Comments

Arcpots1 5

honestly, i wasn’t sure how much i’d like being at art camp with my husband. turns out i like being here together. i like it a lot. not only do i have somebody to sit with me at all meals plus a roommate i don’t have to worry about short-sheeting my bed or hanging my underwear on the flagpole or anything such as that, it’s great, big, huge, heartwarming fun to see his work, to see him create. he’s taking a pottery class called Turners & Burners: Folk Pottery of Southern Appalachia, and man is he productive. in the first 3 hours of class on day one, he threw 4 pots and a pitcher.

Arcpitcher1 2

“some aren’t smooth and round,” he says in a (surprisingly) apologetic tone.

“they’re wonky, andy” i tell him. “they’re the ones you would buy or at least gravitate to if somebody else made them.”

“i know,” he laughs.

[ :: ]

while andy was throwing pots, i was in a fiber class. not so much productivity for me on day one, but i did make this key:

Key1

and meet susan lenz (the instructor) in person – finally – and see some of her beautiful work up close:

Susanlenz1

Susanlenz2

and also meet rena wood, the textile artist-in-residence:

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Renawood5

“i think of it like doodling with thread,” she says of this puddling effect:

Renawood6

this piece was done on a vintage tablecloth given to her by a woman who works here. rena dyed it black and started stitching:

Renawood14

Renawood13

Renawood27

Renawood28

and this piece was inspired by the loss of memory she saw in her grandfather. he was losing his memory as she was building hers:

Renawood19

[ :: ]

afterwards, there was a bonfire (complete with wine) then more walking hand-in-hand with andy as we strolled through the town.

you know, when i went to camp with my lifelong best friend, dianna, a few decades ago, my mother didn’t send me the first note or letter, even though i left a stack of self-addressed/stamped envelopes ready and waiting. as we settled into orientation, i get a text message from this same mother, asking me the name of the song that played when the ballerina jewelry box was opened. my goodness how things do change.

but hey, they don’t make me drink milk at this camp, so there.

who you gonna’ call?

March 18, 2014 / jeanne / 7 Comments

Walkingwednesday5

around here, a folks ask the heavenly father for things. mostly they ask that his will be done.
i’ve never been good at that – at asking some male being to be in charge of deciding what’s best for me, to make decisions about my life with no input from me – and i stopped all communication with the one they call heavenly father a long, long time ago, choosing trees and sky and clouds and friends and family instead.

if you want to know the truth, i’m not all that good at asking anybody for anything in part because it makes me feel needy and weak and whiny and in part because i’m often disappointed when i depend on somebody else to be in charge of my well-being.

but

last week i was caught between the proverbial rock and a hard place, so i asked y’all for support, and you didn’t disappoint.

not one little bit.

i got an ark full of voicemails and text messages and emails and fb messages. i even got notes and cards and one beautiful stone in the mail. and the stories – oh my goodness, the stories y’all shared from the pages of your own life. what a gift the stories are. i don’t know when i’ve felt loved and supported and comforted like never before. thank you.

and when i say “i”, i mean “we” – alison and me, both.

alison will have at least a portion of her thyroid removed. we’re all hoping they can leave enough to keep the thyroid chugging along, producing its hormones – you know, it turns out that the thyroid is a little organ with big responsibilities. anyway, surgery is scheduled for 10:00 a.m. tomorrow (wednesday, 3/19/14 depending on when you are reading this). maybe you could send another wave of support via whatever means you’re most comfortable with? maybe you would be willing to talk to your go-to on our behalf? we’d all appreciate that so very much.

marks

March 11, 2014 / jeanne / 2 Comments

IOOL 3 1 4

IOOL 3 1 8

IOOL 3 1 3

these scratchings
these marks
are nancy’s response
to what’s happening around her.
i’m convinced of that,
though she can’t confirm
or deny it.
she can’t explain.
but she can teach
she can set an example.

031114markmaking

today i add an activity to my day:
10-15 minutes of nancy-style mark making
in response to what is happening around me.
no words
no explanations
no apologies
no defending
just marks.

today’s marks were made in the context
of a conversation about health issues
and second opinions from surgeons.
but you could probably tell that.

i could become addicted.

in and out

March 10, 2014 / jeanne / 0 Comments

Lake

more and more
i do something i’m sure about in the moment
then doubt myself afterwards.
when emotional buyer’s remorse sets in.
when i feel overly exposed.
once i just lived with the doubt and the second-guessings,
but lately,
the Sweet Spirit of Surprise
seems to send me nods and whisperings of support.

last week I posted about
some rough spots in the road.
i opened my heart to you
telling you something
that we’ve talked about
around our table,
but never as openly as on a blog post,
and within minutes,
your loving support came pouring in
and
i came across
this
and the next day
this.

i feel better
but not woohoo-great yet.
we met with surgeon #1 today
to talk about removing the thyroid.
no decisions yet.
there’s much to consider.
so much
given the fact that alison
is a professional actor and singer
and of course there’s the vitamin d
and depression.

i’ll keep you posted.

[ ::: ]

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