I start with my own experience and my own dream world.
If you find connections with your experience or your dream world through my work, then I have succeeded in something very special.
My life, my dreams,those moments hidden in every day life, all rise up as I stitch.
I consider things from the point of view of a mother.
Beauty makes us more aware of what we could do and be.
We are bound together by beauty (this is an abigail doan idea)
Images in this post are of a new piece that I personally find beautiful.
I stitched it throughout most of 2017, and the handling of it, the looking at it, the touching it repeatedly, made me very happy. It put me into my dream world then, and it still does when I run my hands and eyes over it.
The Cloud In Me. New organic cotton with old and new velvet reverse applique. Washed and dried seven times. The dark velvet cloth that fills the random holes was a gift, fifty years old at least and some of it dis-integrated in the laundry and was replaced with younger stuff. The areas of bleeding from the nine dots of pink silk have left a rosy stain in the centre of the piece. The scribbled loopy lines that catch and distract my eye and fingers just the right amount are embroidered, yes, but they are also quilting stitches and work just as hard to hold the piece together as does the close hand stitched grid.
(The Cloud In Me here)
On my walk today I noticed that I still need to chant my steps.
I used to be able to think about other things during this daily walk,
but I am lame since this happened. I use a cane. I still have pain.
The left leg moves forward and I count until I get to 100.
Then I stop and stand. I breathe deeply, and then step to 100 again.
Yesterday I did 400 steps forward, and then came home, 400 more,
So that instead of healing me, (as I have claimed) it allows me to ignore my leg
I stitch by my window where it is comfortable, legs up, and watch the birds.
I go into my day dream mind.
My repetitive yet very intelligent hand comforts me as it caresses the cloth
I feel at such peace.
yes, I ignore my body for a while.
The birds come to the feeder.
The snow melts.