Mantra

Ever tried.
Ever failed.
No matter.
Try again.
Fail again.
Fail better.

Samuel Beckett

team work

moi, supported by my roadie/photogrpaher and good listener, him.

stem stitch

My last few days have been spent packing stem stitches into the leaves in my linen piece. It takes time and work to make my art. I start in the morning and work all day (and into the evening). I feel as if I'm in another place. Yes, there are many other things to do, perhaps even more important. They are right there on the other side of some invisible wall. But I'm staying in this place and doing this beautiful stitching because then it will be done. Apologies for posting yet more photos of this piece. I am not bored with it yet, but perhaps you are.

better photos

Q: What would be important enough for me to put a parka on over my robe, drape a new quilt over the railing of our deck, and stand out there in the gray cold light for twenty minutes? A: I needed better photos of this piece in order to enter an exhibition.

dial up / face book / blog / broad band / browser / click the mouse

Well, you can't have everything. Although I'm lucky enough to live in a really beautiful and peaceful place we do NOT have access to broadband internet access. I write this blog using a dial up computer and an out of date browser. It manages to work and so I am able to connect with the wide world and love to do so. However, over the weekend I signed on to Facebook and although it has been really nice to be welcomed by the friends and colleagues I have there I am not able to put anything on my 'wall' or to confirm those who have added me as friends.

Nothing happens when I click the mouse. Ned has promised to update our browser and I hope that works.

Pictured is a detail from a crib-sized wall quilt, "The future is not ours to see" from 1988.

kantha work

(detail of a 30" square embroidery) purchased from Dorothy Caldwell during her workshop in Sudbury 2006.
(detail of a 24" x 60" runner or shawl purchased at the Surface Design Conference in Kansas City 2007.

These are two examples of Indian kantha work from my collection of world textiles. In these pieces the running stitch is used to fill in large areas of texture and colour. In and out, in and out, the repetitive small movements mesmerize both the stitcher and the viewer. There is no doubt that my close contact with these pieces has been a huge influence on my own work.

If you like world textiles too, visit sri threads . Updated often it is beautifully photographed.

morning, night and noon

For the last week I have done nothing much else but stitch this piece. I've used nearly 3 balls of thick cotton thread and the result is heavy and thick and folds beautifully. I just want it to hang beautifully. The thread itself has changed the imagery and I'm trying to listen to what it's telling me to do next.

Opus Update

Since 2006, I've been studying for an honours fine art degree specializing in embroidery and mixed media textiles. The degree is validated by Middlesex University in London England and has been delivered to students in the UK and around the world by the Opus School of Textile Arts.

In February, Opus closed its doors. A new school started up and most of the teachers agreed to continue as if nothing had changed. This in itself is a vote of confidence for the new associate school. It's obvious to me that the main reason that Opus ran out of steam was because of the lengthy illness and subsequent death last November of its founder, Julia Caprara. In honour of that most inspiring artist, the new school is called The Julia Caprara School of Textile Art.

hearts, spirals, crosses

I called this work "my pleasure" during the six months or so that I spent on the hand embroidery
Hearts, spirals and crosses were stitched without pre-meditation. I was reading The Mists of Avalon at the time and Morgaine (the heroine) made an embroidery while in a trance.
Embroidery like this can be worked on anywhere and does not require a specialized studio or equipment like other art/craft methods do. This lack probably hampers the acceptance of embroidery in the mainstream art world. My age at the time is one of the secrets hidden within the stitches. Can you find it? Can you find the other secret word?

intellectual space

In the Centre of the Body is the Soul (detail) 1996

I've recently realized that I can re-photograph my older pieces with a digital camera and thus have more and better images of those pieces. Pictured here is a detail of my break-through 'masterpiece' made a dozen years ago and photographed yesterday. This is the piece that opened my eyes to hand embroidery. Before this piece, my quilts had relied on colour, pieced traditional pattern, and some image transfer.

"You don't have a life, do you?" asked one of my friends when she saw this quilt for the first time. One remembers that kind of comment. Embroidery is often seen as useless busy work by most people but I would argue that stitching creates a subversive solitary space for women to think. Women who stitch own their own intellectual space separate from the rest of the world –separate from their mothers, their husbands, their children, their co-workers.

OK Havana

Just one more post about our trip to Cuba last week, this time I want to show some of the grand old buildings in Havana. In these photos, I was interested in capturing the shapes, colours and textures of the older buildings, so beautiful and haunting.

snow-leaves

Three layers of linen hand quilted with stem stitch embroidery and densely packed running stitches. Huge jagged leaves tumble all around, the spaces between them filled with obsessive stitching. There are just so many things to worry about.

The tumbling giant leaves refer to the overwhelming immensity of the environmental problems we face today. They refer to the frightening impenetrability of the forest, lakes, rivers, and mountains that faced the pioneers. They refer to Canada itself, a place where leaves change colour and fall from the trees in the autumn and where snow falls from the sky in the winter.

Gifting

I gave this quilt to Yvonne about twenty years ago. I wanted her to remember me when she was home in New Zealand. She'd been in Canada for a period of time working as a nurse in Northern Ontario and we had met during the early days of my marriage.

The blocks were given to me by Doris, the first neighbour we met when we moved to Kenora in 1983. Doris had noticed that I liked to quilt and handed me an unfinished pile of 9-patches made from sugar sacking and striped cotton. I added flowered fabric and appliqued a heart on a single blue block so that I could call the finished piece "Patch of Blue". These images are scanned from the only two slides I have of the piece. (I remember that I used a cotton muslin fabric for the backing that was really difficult to hand stitch. Dear Yvonne. Hello if you are reading this!

hope

I've been reading an old Orion magazine from 1999 that featured writing about HOPE. I was struck by how most of the essayists wrote about children and young people. "My hope lies in the tremendous energy, enthusiasm and commitment of young people around the world." says Jane Goodall, founder of the Roots and Shoots environmental group.

Thomas Moore wrote a short essay entitled "The Child's Deep Delight". "My spirit comes alive when I see how children and nature are friendly with each other" he says. "I see great value in allowing a bigger place for children in our daily lives. It seems to me that we gain the benefits of the child's point of view by letting them be themselves and by allowing ourselves to be affected by them, by simply being in their presence and being open to their perspectives."

Blue Housecoat

When we were in Cuba, I was so glad that I had brought my blue housecoat with me. It was my second skin and I could put it on in the privacy of our hotel room and feel instantly hugged - touched all over by a feeling of security and home even while I was in a completely different world.

Drawing

I think that I should draw more. Drawing is a mode of thinking. Ashile Gorkey spent a whole summer just drawing. Barns, fields, trees, flowers. Richard Serra said that his best work in sculpture happened while he was drawing intensely. The idea is that you train your eye. What do I do instead of drawing? I stitch. I take photos. I think that I should draw more.

Matanzas

I held the digital camera steady outside the jeep window and took random photos as we drove through the city of Matanzas in Cuba. Impressed with the bold use of colour as well as the rough yet elegant texture, these are only two of about a dozen compositions.

light of the moon

Unable to settle after our week away, I finally took myself off to the studio for some art therapy. I think this piece is finally finished except for a bit of hand stitch. Thanks for your suggestion, Deb.

Cuba Journal

It's difficult to narrow down to 7 the 400 photos I took last week in Cuba. During the entire time I was awestruck by the picturesque beauty of the place and by the resilience of the friendly Cuban people. Pictured above, an airy corner of our hotel room, taken on our first day there. (Wednesday) Thursday - a day at the beach.
Friday - we joined a bus tour and went to Havana for the day. Saturday - another beautiful (and hot)day on the beach. Sunday - we travelled by jeep into the countryside and visited a local farm (interior of the house is pictured). I'll likely share more photos of this day. Monday - there was a red flag on the beach to signify that it was too rough to swim in the Atlantic Ocean. Tuesday - a typical view from the bus window as we went to the airport to fly home. At the airport we purchased some CD's of Cuban music.