My work takes care of me

october 11

Making something slowly with one's hands is perhaps one of the most nourishing things one can do

october 15

As I get older I worry less and less about making a product that others might like.  Instead, I want to spend the time I have left allowing my work to be as intuitive as possible.  

I want to be led by feelings, not thought.

The Sleeping Giant peninsula
in the foreground, pier 2 of the new Prince Arthur's Landing waterfront park
with Mark Nisenholt's digital images of awake giants on lantern sculptures  
read about them here. 

Ned and I went to Thunder Bay last weekend to attend the celebration of life for Sandy, one of our longtime friends.  Thunder Bay is a special place for us because we met at the University there. He was in his second year of the new Forestry degree program and I was in Teacher's College. The city is finally developing the waterfront and we stayed in the new hotel right on Lake Superior.  I was so glad to be able to glimpse the Sleeping Giant from the window of our 7th floor room.  The Sleeping Giant is famous in the area and I’ve written about it on this blog before.   2013 here and 2008 here. 

november 3

Visiting Thunder Bay is full of emotion for both of us and we took some time to drive in our rental car through the grandeur of this beloved northern Ontario area.  Ned loves maps and we used an old map from his huge collection.  

november 3

It's one of our favourite ways to spend time together. 

november 3

About my work again:  

One of my ideas is to go back to making old folk patchwork quilts and using the fabrics that I come across in my studio almost by chance.  

I want to use what comes immediately to hand.

I want my work to take care of me and provide me with answers. 

november 3

I stitched during the drive, and also took photos out the window. 

november 4  

Back in Toronto, I was able to spend time with the grandchildren before their bed times and then in the evening, I continued stitching red thread into this yellow cotton piece.

The serenity found in a field of hand stitch is almost a religious experience.

november 5

On Tuesday we returned home via the north bound 400 highway.  It's a six hour drive from Toronto to Manitoulin.

Americans were voting for a new president on the day we drove home.  

november 6

I stayed up until 3 am to watch him accept the presidency.

The CBC newscasters and observers helped me to understand what seemed like an impossible event.  It was most certainly an historical one.  

I've named this quilt Prayer Cloth.

thing and spirit both

These past few weeks I have added more stitch and some velvet to this red cloth.

I thought the cloth was finished.  I put it in my show at the Homer Watson last spring. 

But this autumn, I felt that it needed more. 

More weight.  More time.  More definition.  Some darkness.

I began by adding brown silk thread. 

I also added a layer of dark grey velvet to the second side.

This cloth is for our eyes and it is for our hands.  

This cloth has given me a space for my heart to beat in.  

In pre-Columbian South America all liturgical ceremonies involved large quantities of textiles.  

Textiles were the major form of art, the conveyers of religious ideas.

Textiles were considered to be sacred objects.  (William J Conkin, archeologist)

I've started to call this thin, red, linen quilt:  Holy Holy.  

Through this past week, all I've wanted to do is stitch it.

I wanted to stitch by my window and listen to audio books all the time.  

I forced myself to do other things.  

I put the timer on so that I knew when I could stop doing those other things

and get back to my stitching.

I'm ready to break open.  I'd do it with my own hands.  

Maybe tomorrow if we're lucky and strong, 

Tonight I will learn to live in the inches,

As we spin the wind of this terrible age,  a place to sing

My voice, still raw and golden.   

       David Lerner

Hold your hands out over the earth as over a flame.

Touch the earth. 

Love the earth. 

Honour the earth. 

Rest your spirit in her solitary places. 

Henry Beston

It is a power cloth.

It is like a cloth from another world.

It is like a ritual cloth.  

A cloth full of holiness and spirit and touch and me.

My fingers swirling through it, or it through me.

I saw it.  

It was thing and spirit both: 

the real world: evident, invisible.  

Marie Howe

help me to balance

I made another sleeve this week.

Making sleeves so that my quilts can hang on the wall is not my favourite part of making quilts.

The problem is that most of my quilts have two good sides.

I never know myself which one is really the front and which is the back and both sides are the right side in my mind.

The brown nine patch side of this flannel quilt is named Dear Earth.

The Dear Earth side will be the back-side for a SAQA global exhibition coming up in France.

The show is called Minimalism and it was juried by Dorothy Caldwell.

Dorothy chose the other side of this quilt, 'help me to balance', to be in the exhibition.

I made a sleeve from a narrow domestic wool textile already hand stitched with red thread.  It has a few moth holes, but I think it is OK.

I lined it with a silk tube and attached everything by hand to Dear Earth.

It's not invisible, that's for sure, but I think that it is functional.

SAQA exhibitions require that a cloth label be attached to the back

I had enough cloth to embroider a label and attach it to the lower right of Dear Earth, see above photo.

'help me to balance' old domestic sheets and towels, machine pieced, hand quilted with red thread,      90 x 66 inches, 2018.

Dear Earth.  Help me to balance. xo

aesthetic pleasure

 

I have been procrastinating about writing anything this month.    

I will share some photos 

of the layers of linen and wool and sheer that I have been stitching with black and red thread.

It seemed so urgent that I stitch every day.

I thought I might get this one finished.   I told myself that finishing it was why I was stitching so much.

But that was not true.  

I was stitching so much because I was letting my own hands do what they do so well. 

My hands take care of me.

These past weeks, I read essays by women in old magazines and attended panel discussions on Zoom.

I went into my town studio a lot, and came home by the back roads, 

because the trees and ditches take care of me too.

In the essays,  I kept coming across words like care and nurture and support and retreat. 

The water in the lake is beginning to freeze.  

Can you can see the misty fairy hair?.

Aesthetic pleasure is important now, not just for its own sake, but to revive us, to give us the wherewithal to fight another day.      Aruna d'Souza             Canadian Art winter 2019

This piece is called Inner World. 

I'm finishing it up for an exhibition next spring.  All the work in the exhibition is two-sided.  

Most of the pieces are made by stitching first on one side and then another, 

and when they are displayed,  the 'other' or the inner side faces outwards.   

Inner World

Art has begun to feel not like a respite or an escape, but a formidable tool for gaining perspective on troubled times.                       Olivia Laing         The Guardian     April 2020

Stitching helps me because, for the several hours each day that I spend stitching, 

real time is stopped.  

The whirl of it.  The fear of it.

Making my art is like being in a zone of enchantment.

  

Whatever brings the consciousness into a state of pure attention, in a time of perplexity, will also give back an answer to the perplexity.          D.H. Lawrence  1928

The stars.

The sky and the stars.

In current climates, the act of taking time out of our day to make, time to look after yourself, time to be with loved ones, is important.  Modern quilting is all about time.  The moments we share with one another and the processes we choose to adopt to take care of ourselves.                                                    Julius Arthur           Embroidery Magazine      July/August 2021

There's a lot going on with my kids these days.  

Inner World

The title of the exhibition is Inside Out.  

Mark making is a way to make an effect on our own world.                                                          Margaux Williamson             Canadian Art     Winter 2019 

Art is an articulation of resilience.                                                                                                      People create art through war and pandemics and hardship and the work lives on for hundreds of years.                                                                    Tatum Dooley  The Guardian     April 2020                 

beauty binds us together

 What is ordinary daily life anyway?

Breakfast – housecoats – diapers – bath – crying – cleaning up 

TV  - tea – reading stories – snowsuits – writing letters, reading letters,

holding babies, making sandwiches – heating soup 

 folding corduroys – sorting socks – tea – coaxing two year olds

 listening to seven year olds – thinking – quilting – my art 

the radio – the window – the dishwasher 

thinking – jotting down ideas – peeling vegetables

pouring milk – talking – piano lessons – undressing – sex

How would I define myself?

I would have to answer ‘ a mother ‘

When you have a seven-month-old baby, it does really occupy you the most. 

But I feel that I am an artist too.  I can’t call myself one this year though. 

 Now I am first a mother.

Journal Text from December 13 1987 

Images of stitching and nature walks from this week.