Monday, January 20, 2020

intimate cloth

 I have come to drag you out of yourself and take you in my heart.
For a while now, I've been wanting to embroider love poems onto old wool blankets.
Love poems that also reference dreaming, or stars, or the sky.
This week, I started.
In the mornings, first thing, I go on my stationary bike.
The bike is in my studio, and gives me an opportunity to look at my pin wall.
I can prop a book on the bike too and these days I am reading about Joyce Wieland.
Joyce is one of my heroines and influences.
She made no division between paintings, quilts and films and firmly believed that the domestic and the intimate deserved a place in art.
I have come to drag you out of yourself and take you in my heart.
I have come to bring out the beauty you never knew you had and lift you like a prayer to the sky.


  1. Julie Vann4:20 am

    I woke up today thinking about my friend's pregnant daughter, who's going to be induced this morning. The first thing I saw when I opened my laptop was this newsletter from you. Always a wonderful way to start my day but this one was particularly moving. The Rumi poem spoke to me immediately as one that could easily be written from a new mother to a new babe. Thank you for the beautiful synchronicity.

    1. How very beautiful. Thank you for this connection of intimate cloth to a mother's love. Because cloth is all about touch, and because blankets touch all our parts, wrap humans with good feelings, they are the most intimate. Best wishes to the new mother in your life, and to all mothers out there xo


Thank you for taking the time to connect. Much appreciated.xx