a language of care

The quilts I make are not clever.

They are not intellectual.

The quilts I make are love stories.

Remember this. 

Remember that quilts are love stories. 

Often, quilts are gifts. 

We sleep with them.

They touch us.

Quilts are a language of care. 

Quilts are not about the things that happen out in the world, 

Quilts help us recover from that world,

Quilts protect us when we sleep and dream.

Quilts also comfort the ones who make them.  

That is the language of care.

Your Fragile Life 

 old damask linen, natural dye, silk batting, silk backing and borders, cotton thread, 

entirely hand stitched, 70 x 68 inches,  2024.      

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.

your silence creates a world for my language

This is a post about an exhibition currently on view in Sault Ste Marie, Ontario at the artist run gallery, 180 projects.  A friend and I made the trip last week to view it.  It was my first art gallery experience in 18 months and well worth the 3+ hour drive.    

The artist is Sophie Anne Edwards, one of north eastern Ontario's most intelligent and passionate advocates for culture.  She is a poet, a painter, a curator, a geographer, and a long time arts administrator on Manitoulin Island.  I am enriched to know her. 

Sophie is easily brought to tears by the environmental crises and wanted to create a body of work that would address this monstrous, overwhelming fear in a personal way.  The artist's home is surrounded by ash trees, and she fears that they will all die because of a silent killer brought to Canada from Asia through international trade, the Emerald Ash Borer.  

The Emerald Ash Borer is an insect that drills through the outer bark to lay eggs in ash trees.  The larvae hatch and tunnel under the bark of the ash tree during the year or so while they mature, chewing lines that silently remove the inner wood.  

Another concern of this artist is something that happens more frequently than we know, yet is kept secret; domestic abuse to women and girls.  The victims are scarred for life, .  

Sophie became my CSARN mentee in 2018 and we talked and cried together over a period of  nearly 2 years.  Her ideas about materials and what she wanted to say with her artwork were strong.  Why did she come to me?  I think that she needed to slow down.  She needed to realize the comfort of hand stitch.  Although she already understood the power and intimacy of this kind of mark making, I helped her to focus on just a few of her ideas and taught her the back stitch.  

"I think about quiet violences -- to the environment, to women.  The silences that go unnoticed, or unspoken.  That happen quietly, under bark and behind closed doors.  That are carried in on crates, and through hushed words. "  Sophie A Edwards

Sophie Edwards wrapped one of the ash trees near her residence
with a bed sheet marked with red thread and hawthorns and left it for two years.  
A video of her suturing this ineffectual protection is part of the exhibition. 

"Those that go unregulated, and those that regulate us  The silences that change a landscape, and a life.  This project explores and links environmental and sexual violences."  Sophie A Edwards

"There is a silent language we can read in the Emerald Ash Borer tracks, and there is a silence we keep about sexual violences, which leaves its own tracks and traces.  This silence leaves space for the language of invasive and invaders."  Sophie A Edwards

There is a beautiful catalogue available from the artist or from 180 projects that has gorgeous photos of the exhibition and more of Sophie's own words.  

in my traces you will find silence,

or bring your own to it.

In my tracks you will find the language 

of my having been.

In my marks there is the 

record of my passage.  

Unable to read my lines,

you cannot hear.  Your

silence creates a world

for my language.

Sophie Anne Edwards

The exhibition continues until July 17.  180 projects