studio wall 2025

January

Prayer Cloth: Dream

I have a small studio at home that used to be the bedroom of our two youngest daughters.  All that it has in it now are shelves and chests for my cloth and journals, an armchair and a pinwall.   The pinwall helps me to create my quilts.  It also is where I block them when they are finished.  In this post, the 10 finished quilts I made in 2025.  

The title for the January quilt comes from something I think that Carl Jung said.  "I dream and my soul awakens, Imagination is the star."  

February

Mermaid and Troll

A painting that our daughter Grace made when she was about 6.  Paintings made with a special kind of dye on paper can be transferred with an iron to polyester and I made a quilt for her twin girls with the fabric painting I'd saved for so long. 

March

Cape of Rain

I un-did alll the cloak-sculptures that I made for In the Middle of the World (the exhibition I had with colleague Penny Berens ) and returned them to their original 2-dimensional shapes.  I pinned them to my design wall and re-titled them all.  This one, a distressed wool blanket full of holes, was entitled Flowers Bloomed in the exhibit.  Now for me, it is not so much a protection cloak against the rain, but one that contains the sadness of climate crisis. 

April

Prayers for the Twenty-first Century

I've loved the poem A Prayer For the Twenty-first Century by John Marsden since I read an illustrated version of it in 1998.  In 2017, I created a large flag-like textile from some red thread embroideries that I named after the poem. These four are from that piece that I took apart, reworked and then mounted on squares of white wool.       

May

The Day, The Night, and then The Day Again

I finished this two-sided quilt in time for it to be included in my summer exhibition, The Sky, at the Art Gallery of Sudbury.  Completely reversible, I wanted to show how there are many stars in the sky that we don't see during the day.  I also wanted to show the reassurance that we receive from the sky because every day comes back again after a long dark night.  

June

All The Lived Emotions

Another piece that is an evolution from a previous one.  In 2023, I made 42 'mothering bundles' from saved items and showed about 17 of them in the Stardust exhibition in the Gore Bay museum that summer.  This past June, I covered 14 of them with cloth gleaned from unfinished projects or failed online purchases for The Sky exhibition and gave these few a new title.  

July

Sky With Many Moons

Another piece that I finished up in time to show in my exhibition in Sudbury.  I've actually been working on this one for at least ten years.  In 2019 I thought it was finished.  (see here) .   

August

Not a new finish, but a new experience for me was to have my work featured in an important Canadian Poetry journal.  There is a ten page spread with images of my recent work as if they are each poems and Starry Starry from 2023 is on the front cover.  

  

September

Baby Floor Quilt

This is a true 2025 quilt because I began and finished it during the summer to celebrate April's friends who have started having babies.  Floor Quilts are practical gifts for newborns and her friends will share this one.

October

Two In-Progress pieces 

I'm excited about these two, as well as the several others that only got part way done in 2025.  

November

Sunflower Sky

The title of this one was inspired by the great artist Anselm Kiefer who often works with sunflowers in his large scale work.  There are several metaphysical and metaphorical reasons why he uses them but the simple description of a field of giant sunflowers that he planted in the South of France is what moved me to change the title of this piece from Sky Full of Stars to Sunflower Sky.  He speaks about lying down in the middle of the field and looking up at the ripe sunflowers with their bending-down heads.  He thought that the flowers resembled stars in the sky.  There is a White-cube reel on Instagram with this short talk, Here.

December

My Trembling Heart

At first I called this small piece Paris in February, because I took it with me when Grace and I visited that city, and was able to stitch it in the Jardin du Luxembourg.  I changed the title to My Full Heart after I drew that circle in the center.  Once I realized that the fluttering tiny cloth sequins are my favourite part, I changed the title once more.  I finished it on the last day of 2025. 

Thank you for reading this entire post.  Reflecting on these images caused me to realize that my work is always changing or growing, and never really finished. I think this is a hopeful way to be.  So with these pieces from my full heart, I send you each good wishes for 2026.  Carry on bravely my friends.   

my trembling heart

Happy Winter Solstice

My Trembling Heart on the studio wall,with journals and the book I read while biking.

The kids are starting to arrive today.  Ned and I have been getting the house ready.  

I have also been finishing up the trembling heart piece in the evenings.  

Actually, I've been procrastinating on everything. I give myself so much slack these days. 

For example, I spent two hours mending my foot pillow, (it was not on the to-do list).

I love having a pillow to put my feet on. I make them for myself out of unfinished projects.  The one above was falling apart (from use) and instead of writing those Christmas letters, I did some hand sewing.    

Before bed last night, I thought about blogging and how I have been not been able to.  

So when I gave in to my needle this morning I thought maybe I could just tell you about this project. 

I like to use velvet when I mend.  Can you see the strip of velvet across the back of the pillow? 

Below are the 8 x 10 hand printed photos of my older brother/ younger sister that my mom photographed and my dad developed that I found in my father's papers. The plan is to mail them to my siblings. I think that they are stunning. 

I have not started to decorate yet.  The tree is not up.  

I've only removed the autumn clutter from the living room, and baby proofed it.  Those crystal decanters on the mantelpiece are heirlooms from Ned's family.  We're giving one to each of our kids this year as we de-clutter and carry on through our 70's.

Above, you can see my foot pillow under the part of the table where I sit when I write because it has the best light.  The pillow on my chair was mended with velvet last summer.  

Poem Blanket and My Trembling Heart, two works in progress

Sending out my very best wishing for serenity over the next few weeks.  May 2026 be a year of peace. 

November 2006, 2007, 2008, 2009, 2010

protection blanket, reverse side, procion dye on rayon, hand quilted 2005

 
I make very simple, large constructed textiles.  All my work is hand stitched, a slow method that gives me solace as well as a place where I can gain perspective on world events. 

wrapped form, my mother's clothing, wrapped in sheet, life sized  2007

The concept and technique of wrapping and being wrapped grounds most of my work. 

I think about their mothers, newspaper clippings, graphite, on 22 x 30 inch paper, 2008

I create installations of large-scale textiles covered with stitch in combination with wrapped bundles.  

gathering myself, silk thread on linen monogrammed pillowcase, 2009

Visitors move alongside and through the work as if in a natural environment, able to view both sides and understand the work through time and with the body.  My work is usually large scale and is densely covered with small marks.  

not to know but to go on, one skein of embroidery floss a day for three years, (2010 - 2013)  

Yesterday, I had to write a description of how I work.  When I wrote the few paragraphs, I was thinking of my newest pieces, but all the images in this post are from my early blog posts.  I found them in the first five Novembers in the archives. (see sidebar in web version) 

My work hasn't really changed all that much.  I still use wrapping and I still work very simply.

I am so grateful for this work.

How do I begin?

I think the process starts with my place on this island and in my personal relationships.

I think that those two things are the ground for every thing I make.

I respond to my yard and the trees and the water and the sky

and the drive home with the sun going pink 

and the quietness 

and the feelings of safety that Ned provides.

I also look at books.

I read the words.

I read every day and do so because of the lovely words, one after the other.

Evocative words, well placed, that connect to something wordless in me.

I can't really explain it, but they inspire me.

Sometimes I write them down but most of the time I just absorb them.  Other people's written words.

I look at art books.  

I have a big collection of books on art, quilts, world texitles.

I look at the pictures in these books.  I study one or two pictures a day.

Every day. They feed my creative brain so much.

So that's where I start. 

That's where the ideas glimmer.

When I feel any kind of spark, I make a quick note or a sketch in the journal I keep close. 

I don't really draw.

I don't need a drawing, or want one.  If I had a drawing of what the completed piece would look like, then I wouldn't be able to make it.

I think that a refined drawing would stifle me.    

I do make quick and rough sketches with a ball point pen.  

The photos that illustrate this post are of of some of the quilts I worked on in October. 

Gratefully.

Tina Marais: Unfolding

Unfolding 2022 by Tina Marais

Le Petit Mort 2022 by Tina Marais

Tina Marais was born in South Africa, August 1977.

She moved to Canada in her early 30's, and became a Canadian citizen.  Currently the artist is living in Lyons, France. 

Harnessing the Power of Fear by Tina Marais 2020

In her youth in South Africa, she studied visual art (painting, drawing) at university and then, following her natuarl affinity for all things textile, she studied pattern drafting and worked as a costume designer.  

In Montreal, Canada, she needed to learn French and aquired her Masters of Fiber and Material Practices from Concordia University in 2019.  During the pandemic, she was diagnosed with breast cancer and went through several treatments. 

Her artwork reflects with enormous imagination and tactility her courageous life story.  One of the best articles about this artist (among many on the internet) is here: Tina Marais Struthers: Life in Fibre.   

Tina's art is internationally acclaimed. Her powerful sculptural textiles have shown in biennales and invitaional exhibitions around the world.  One of the first artists interviewed by Fibre Arts Take Two (here) Tina Marais is currently teaching Soft Revolution for this organization.  

Numbr 6 of Canadian Artists who Work with Textiles

Red Sky / Red Water

Just a quick post about my quilt, Red Sky / Red Water.  

Red silk fabric and silk threads, 64 x 36 inches, 2024
 

It was inspired by my daily experience of the sky and water.  

Sacred Ground 

wool dyed with leaves and barks from my environs, hand pieced and hand quilted. 64 x 36" 2024 

Red Sky / Red Water is the back (second side) of Sacred Ground    

The quilting of this piece is unusual.  Cotton embroidery floss is laid down in horizontal lines across the face of the quilt, and couched to the quilt with red silk sewing thread.   

 

I loved the idea of the wrapping with red thread because in many world cultures, red thread is a used on garments for protection.

I wnated to write about Red Sky / Red Water now because it is part of Convergence, the exhibition currently on view at the Tom Thomson gallery in Owen Sound until early January.  We attended the opening on Saturday, October 18.  I was glad to see that my two-sided quilt, Sacred Ground, was beautifully installed far enough away from the wall so that the second side could be glimpsed.

The best part is that there is a pink glow on the wall.  A reflection of Red Sky / Red Water. 

Look at that!  

For those interested, I wrote quite a long post about the Convergence opening on my update blog.  Here.

Mary Pratt and me

I own four books about the Canadian artist Mary Pratt including the newest one by Anne Koval, a biography that I am enjoying very much. 

The biography is an easy to read narrative that examines how an artist's personal life is mixed up with the art she creates.  Each chapter selects works by the artist that chronologically travels through her life story and also mirrors Pratt’s emotional and lived experience.  The book also shows how a woman with a strong creative need really has to believe in herself and have determination if she is to be seen and taken seriously as an artist when there is a large family in her life.

I learned many things about Mary Pratt in this book.  One thing is that she believed, like most people of her era, that a woman's purpose was to marry young and have a family.  Born in 1935, she was 22 years old when she married Christopher in 1957.  By age 30, she had four children.  

I also like the Koval biography because it talks about how Mary managed to do it all.  She took care of her husband who was quite moody.  She took care of the children.  She hosted her in-laws nearly every weekend.  She seemed (from all the paintings in evidence) to have a beautiful home.  And, all through it, she participated in art exhibitions.  Although she eventually had a room of her own, her early work was made in various rooms with a portable easal and a rolling cart with her paints on it.    

Salmon on Saran by Mary Pratt

Mary Pratt came to Kenora, the town where I lived, in 1991.  She was to speak to artists about her work.  The event was sponsored by Visual Arts Ontario and was hosted by the Lake of the Woods museum.  The museum put on an exhibition of local artists and I made a needlebook complete with needles.  I sewed clipped sections from printed knitting patterns to the felt pages.  I thought it was interesting that the knitting pattern-language (k 1 , p 1, k 1, p 1) is a secret code that mostly only women understand.  

My friend Barbara worked for the museum and Mary was to stay overnight at her home on the lake.  Barbara hosted a dinner for all the VAO people who accompanied Mary.  I remember helping Barb with the meal and also attending it. It was lovely. What an honour to be invited. 

Jelly Shelf by Mary Pratt

At the talk she gave the next day, Mary Pratt spoke about how the feminist movement helped her work  to be seen.  In 1975, she was curated by Mayo Graham into an exhibiiton at the National gallery of Canada entitled Some Canadian Women Artists.  Feminists saw psychological meanings in her paintings of fish cut open on tin foil, and fruit contained in glass bowls or jars.  Mary might have perceived a darker underlying meaning, but she claims that she chose these subjects because of their sensuality.  In her talk, she said that it was the surface of things that she was in love with.  She wants her viewers to gasp when we look at her work because of how our body responds.  Anne Koval uses the word erotic to describe how Mary Pratt chooses her subjects.  

Cod on Foil by Mary Pratt

However, Anne Koval has also included several chapters that show how the paintings are metaphors.  An example is the chapter about the several wedding dress paintings Mary Pratt did in the mid 80's.  The artist is quoted as saying that the paintings were about the "important business of a woman giving herself to a man.  It's a traumatic event.  Giving is something women do."  

Wedding Dress by Mary Pratt

I remember her standing upright at the front of the room in Kenora, wearing a dark dress, quite frail.  She had a microphone in her hand, and her slides were projected on a screen behind her.  She sat beside me both before and after her lecture.  During the refreshments we continued our visit and I told her that I had four kids too.  She asked me if I was an artist and I gushed and babbled about the solo show I was to have that fall in Thunder Bay.  I don't remember much except how much awe I had for her.  I was 39 at the time, and she was 65.  She told me she wanted to buy Needlebook.  I said that I would give it to her.

Mary Pratt gave me a word of advice.  "Always photograph your work when its finished. Have large transparencies, not just ordinary slides taken.  Find a professional photographer who will take care of these things.  Pay the money, because when they want to write a book about you, they will need good images, and this is how you will have them."  

I began to follow that advice, and am continuing to this day.   

After the symposium, I mailed her my needlebook.  I also sent some slides of my work so that she could see them.  She had a hip replacement that summer and her reply didn't come for several months.  I've framed her letter to me and it hangs in my studio.