poem blankets

I finished another poem blanket and then photographed all four, one at a time on the line with the beautiful morning light.   Two Rumi, One Neruda, and an Agnes Martin.

I like that these old blankets are worn, as if they are carrying lived time.  It is a most beautiful thing.  

This body of work addresses the bed.  Bed coverings connect to sex, death, birth, dream, the vulnerability of sleep, healing, reading, and that liminal space between sleep and wakefulness where we have the best ideas.  Blankets have a powerful voice.    

Blankets cause an emotional response. 

Emotional response is how I chose the text.  It had to be worth putting on a blanket.  

I thought that I could cover all the 'bed' things - but there are two love poems already.    

The final step is adding a wide strip of blanket cloth along the top to put a rod through so that they can hang on a wall.  

Old blankets bring past relationships to mind.  

They are connected to the body and to the most primal of human needs and acts.  (Radka Donnell)

spider circle webs in the grass

Try not to think that words are the material of thought.  The articulation of meaning can come through handling materials.  In fact, making through materials is a superior kind of thought.  Material is the most real thing that there is.  (Anni Albers idea) . 

"She clutched at her blankets as a faller clutches at the turf on the edge of a cliff.  Her eyes opened wide.  Here she was again, she thought, sitting bold upright in bed.  Awake."  

Virginia Woolf      To The Lighthouse

About the love poems.  Maybe it's OK if there are more of them than the other subjects.  

These four are going into a group exhibition next month and the images in this post are about preparing them for display and for shipping.   For more information about this show, please click here.

I don't think I'm finished with this body of work.  If I come across a poem that needs to be put onto an old blanket, I will put it onto an old blanket until I run out of old blankets.

Seen in Gore Bay yesterday.

Do you know what a symbol is?

I've been absorbed with assembling a piece from vintage funeral wear.
Doing this helped me come back to and appreciate ordinary daily life.

The time before this pandemic crises seems like from another world. 
What was important for me at the beginning of March seems trivial now. 
My priorities and concerns have completely changed.

I've been having scattered disjointed thoughts, moodiness, despondency, weeping, and anxiousness.
Stitching into pieces already in progress (such as this one) helped immensely.

I reasoned that if I died, finished quilts would be easier to deal with. 

I'm still not able to do my real (usual) work - but I will someday.
This project was cathartic.

There was no warning that I would make this artwork.
It came all of a sudden and was a release.