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.

My quilts help me to be brave.

Last Tuesday Rachel from Breaking the Blocks / Crafty Monkees interviewed me.  She asks artists to talk about their lives and how their artwork helps them cope. I woke up that morning wondering what I might say. 

What are my "blocks"?  

How do I "break" them?  

One block would be isolation but the internet broke that one for me. 

Another could be the mothering of four kids.   Many people would say this.

Except that I truly believe that motherhood gave me a subject and a reason to create so it was not a block for me.  It was a door.

Maybe I could talk about the breakthrough that happened when I became aware of my inner world and how huge it is and how stitching gives that world to me.  

It's interesting that this interview comes along at the same time as I've been working on my memoir.

My recent self study gave me more confidence when I spoke with Rachel.   

1.  I grew up in an isolated rural place with lots of books and art supplies and plenty of solitude.

2.  I met and married Ned early and had the four kids.  We determined to raise them with natural beauty outside their door.  Around age 30 I discovered how I could use traditional quilt pattern as a code to tell the intimate stories that were happening in my life.  I did a lot of teaching of watercolour painting, art quilting and classical piano for about 20 years along with full time parenting.  It was a busy time. 

3  In 2005, we had an empty nest and this began a new period.  Digital photography.  The internet.  

In 2006, I started writing this blog.   I took a degree in embroidery from the UK.  I retired from in-person teaching.  Over the next twenty years I stepped back into solitude and into the inner world.  

4  I guess that I am now in the period of my 'late work'.  

The unavoidable fact of life is death, but handmade quilts challenge that.  My quilts will outlive me.

Human mortality is a major 'block' for everyone but those of us who create hand-made objects break that block.   

All the images in this post are of a piece that I thought was finished.  See it here on my website.   I cut it in half up the middle and put a lovely wool batt in between the two pieces.  I've really been enjoying stitching it during this beautiful month of May.  

The title will stay the same:  Sky With Many Moons.

The podcast is available where ever you get your podcasts. Rachel called our podcast The Art of Imperfection.  Here is a link.   

The whirl of 2024

January 14  1:50 pm

February 16  7:16 am

March 14   7:22 am

April 9   8:09 am

May 15  6:54 pm

June 12  8:25 am 

July 14  8:48 am

August 16  6:23 am 

September 23  9:34 am

October 7  6:48 pm

November 10  7:12am

December 21 4:34 pm

I thought about using this space to show the interior of my house with all the finished and unfinished quilts piled up or unfolded across beds and chairs and on the floor and on the wall, because then you might understand how much work I do and how I am always busy ....but...

this constant view of the Wikwemikong peninsula across the water of Manitowaning Bay is truer.  

I stare out the window half the time it seems.   That colour full sky gives me an answer, even when I didn't really ask a question.  Here it is.  

Here is the answer.  Our lives are fragile and our timelines are speeding forward.  We must be kind to each other and kind to ourselves.

It often does seem like there is an urgency to get things done, made, out there, but really, there is no rush.  Don't rush. Go slow.   I wish for you, my dear and appreciated blog readers, the very best for the new year.  Be tender.  Be slower.  Allow softness and kindness to rule.  Let's care.

the world

I couldn't tell one song from another

which bird said what or to whom or for what reason. 

The oak tree seemed to be writing something using very few words. 

I couldn't decide which door to open

they looked the same.

or what would happen when I did reach out

and turn a knob

I thought I was safe, standing there

but my death remembered its date.

Only so many summer nights still stood before me,

full moon, waning moon,

October mornings: what to make of them?  Which door?

I couldn't tell which stars were which or how far away any one of them was,

or which were still burning or not - 

their light moving through space like a long, late train - 

And I've lived  on this earth so long.  70 winters.

70 springs and summers, 

and all this time stars in the sky - in day light

when I couldn't see them

and at night when, most nights, I didn't look.

The text in this post is The World, a poem by Marie Howe (slightly edited : 70 instead of 50)

The images are of my stitching these past few weeks.

august sky whirl

Night sky whirl is the only piece I had with me while at the cottage for the month of August.  It was quite a big family time:  all four kids, their kids, their spouses, also Ned's brother and sister and also the brother's kids.

Also the 100th birthday of the building.

I returned to night sky whirl whenever I had a moment of quiet.  

There were 18 of us around the table for a few days if you include the twins who were usually on laps.

It is possible to find stillness.  Reading Calvin and Hobbs when you are 9 years old is one way.  

The Doubtful Guest when you are 6 years old is another way.  

This textile is made from soft, old, fabrics, mostly damask linens that have been dyed.  The back of the piece is in three pieces the colours of sky and water at sunset.

We made a pie.

We made another pie for the 100th birthday.

Also a cake for the 17th birthday.

We painted.

This is the most painterly piece I've made for a long while.