handstories

The shape of the last week or so

    There has been a lot of self-reflection, and some being stuck in it.

    And another round of Covid.  Fortunately, it was a mild short-lived case with only one day of fever.  (Noticing that my inner beast looks like a sad, sore, scary tooth. A subconscious connection to my teeth issues?)

    On day three, tired of being tired (following a very good pity-party), I sat down to watch Carla Sonheim's yearlong class videos.  There was doodling, experimenting, and thinking about grids.

    It was a lot of fun.  (Yes, I'm still playing with combining aquamarine, ocher, and black paints.)  I find her workshops inspiring, approachable, and comforting.  They encourage me to try new things and think about making in different ways.

    Which led to this color wheel piece.  (I love color wheels- the idea of them, their usefulness, and how beautiful they are.)  Over and over again, trying something new adds layers to the cloth work.

    Switching things up can create a shift everywhere.

    Circles that were traced. 

    "In Theory"

Joy

    We strolled through the local botanical gardens for our anniversary afternoon. 

   A place we've gone often.  A place with memories of good and rocky times, alone and with the boys.  K likes the dahlias, for me it's the water features and wispy meadow like spots.  An old timer made a cheesy jokey compliment to me.  Something my dad would have done.  It made me roll my eyes and smile.

    "Asra" meaning "nighttime journey".

    Speaking of journeys... I'm off for the next bunch of days to attend/assist another workshop with Christine Mauersberger.  I'm looking forward to days of making and soaking in inspiration, to sitting still, spending time thinking and wondering, gathering some thoughts and sense of where I am and might want to go.  It's a tall order for a few days, but a soul can dream.

Week before last

    Monday and Tuesday I drove to Whidbey Island to attend and assist Christine Mauersberger's "Meditative Stitching" workshop.  

    Two peaceful quiet stitching days listening to Christine's insights with lovely women.

    Tuesday's sunrise seen on the ferry. 

    I probably drove more last week than I have in the last year put together.  I have such anxiety about driving, especially now that I do it so infrequently, but it was good to rediscover that I'm capable-ish.

    One day at home, spent packing myself and Moon.  Thursday we drove him up to Bellingham.  Because of COVID restrictions and his being SO READY to start this new chapter, the three of us made three trips with his boxes to the third floor dorm room, and I barely had time to even get misty-eyed during the quick goodbye hugs, in the rush to get us out of there in his thirty allowed slotted minutes.  (Deb, I did wave across town to you!)

    And then I drove back to the island, returning home on Monday night.

    My work table during the four days of Christine's "Binding Time" workshop.  More lovely women, and much more active.  Indigo pots, cyanotype, stitching, gelli plate printing, collaging, and more!  (Including dyeing some thread in my tea (above).)

    There's not much call for sequins in my life, but I do love them.  It was great to have time to play, to work and share with other makers, and to spend time hanging out with Christine during prep, clean up, etc.

    There was a crazy wind storm one day.  The kind of wind that tries to move your car off of the road.  Power was out for some of the island that evening, including the place where I stayed.  Leftovers were wrapped in foil and heated up on the barbeque, and I was in bed at 7:45 due to the dark and cold.

    The clouds were incredible.

    The workshops were held in this spacious building.

    Each day was a new story in the sky.

    There's more to say, but this is a start... hope you are all well.

Holding Hope

    Creating calm.  The scrap of blue silk on the top is from Deb's indigo dying.  It's like a breath of fresh air.

    The days have been dark and blustery, but there is a moment in the afternoon when the Japanese maple glows through the window.

    Connections are everywhere.

    I remember my parents going to vote when I was around twelve.  It was dark out, they were bundling up to walk the two blocks to the grade school where the voting booths were set up in the gym.  I asked them what party they were voting for.  Dad was a Democrat, Mom is Republican.  "Then why bother going at all?" I asked.

    "To cancel each other out."

    I've started naming the tree tokens.  This is Odetta, yes, after the wonderful folk singer/activist.  This morning I wept watching this.  Satyagraha.

September!

    I was BUSY all day yesterday.  Checking things off of the to-do list, adding to it, and checking those things off, too.  There was preparation for a shop update today- photos, listings, retaking photos (because the light is SO bright these days), etc.  Things got DONE.

    Laundry, birthday card into the mail, a dinner made out of the hardly anything that was left in the fridge, and I finished this little piece (about 2 1/2 inches square).  "A Piece of Peace" made from lovely scraps that Tracy sent- the leftover bits from her beautiful robes. (Do go see them and her wonderful thoughtful place over here.). I'm looking forward to seeing her robes, and her again, if and when this pandemic is over.

    The last thing on my list was to make a new book using these tutorials again.  Isn't the cover paper gorgeous?  It was eco-printed by Catherine Alice- the moon came from an avocado slice and hollyhocks made the blues.  She was one of the curators and exhibitors of the "All Stitched Up" show that I was in last fall.  (Was that only a year ago?) and has since become a good friend (with a little matchmaking by Velma, I think, and possibly a bit of stalking by me.)

    The book is a mix of good papers, scraps, old watercolors, magazines pages... anything that called out from the collage box.  The very first book that I made with the tutorial was similar to this and became one of my favorite things over the last months.  (I'll share it in another post.)

    The last stitch in the binding was made at the stroke of midnight.  It seemed important to have a fresh new place for this new season.  I Love Fall.  It's going to be a strange one.  At this moment Moon is upstairs rearranging his bedroom so that we can make space for a desk for his virtual schooling.  In spite of this, in spite of everything, I'm so very glad that this time of year is still working its magic.

evolutions

    Starting with a small stack of blue, what I thought would be a sea was pieced together.  A pink sky was imagined (there is something going on between pink and me lately...).  When the blues were stitched, suddenly they were sky like.  Ok, a green ground.  The green basket was pulled out.  Digging until something spoke to me... the map printed fabric, the earth, yep.  From there the pinks came together into a sun with reaching rays and blue stitches orbiting.

    Those rings of blue are related to a bunch of recent things...

    Spirals have been on my mind again, triggered by Jude's edge stitching, and reinforced when this piece turned up in that box wander last week.

 

 

    It's an interpretation of 13 year-old Moon's "hand" drawn galaxy, from five years ago.

    And then a necklace was seen.  I wish I had a photo of it.  At first I thought it was a cool spiral, not perfect, with lines crossing each other.  With a closer view, I saw that it was actually several separate silver pieces- circle, oval, and lopsided roundish rings, all of them hanging together from a thin chain, lines overlapping, sliding ever-so-slightly into new forms with each movement.  

    It's fascinating to me that the placement of lines can create the illusion of a different shape.  Concentric or overlapping rings seem a spiral, straight lines crossing each other at a center point feel round.

    The stars were added without thinking, and then questioned when I remembered that it was a Sun, not a moon.  Should the stars come out?  (Ha, thinking about how we say that the stars come out at night, meaning the complete opposite.)  The stars were left, because they are always there, even when we can't see them, but mostly because I like them.  And why should the moon be missing?  Why not?  The moon came out, too.

    Everything is and holds everything these days.

Coupeville & Christine

    Things are so strange right now.  The virus... How much to worry?  Events being cancelled, going to three stores before finding toilet paper (we were down to our last roll), Moon says a third of the school is staying home, K.'s office has told everyone to work from home for the next two weeks... Where is the line between panic and reckless?

    Meanwhile, I took myself on a short retreat.

    Traveling companions- pincushion complete with guardian girl, Velma's bear, Jude's star, a piece of smoky quartz (I don't know what it does for me, but it feels good in my hand), and the "ease" cloth.

    A whole two days to myself looking at the water and trees, listening and watching the many birds, and stitching and stitching in a cozy comfy room.

    I watched the neighbors frolic during breakfast.

    For lunch there was a walk into town, a table by the window overlooking the water, and eating in a restaurant alone for the first time ever.  Yes, ever.

    And more stitching, knitting and a little painting into the twilight.

    The next morning, and why this getaway happened, there was Christine Mauersberger's  "Stitching a Small Story" workshop.  Christine is a wonderful teacher- inspiring, generous and she creates a warm rich environment to work in with wonderful kindred folk.  I especially love her prompts and how she shares her own process.  It was really good to step out of my own "boxes" and stretch my abstract muscles.  Everything informs and enriches everything.  Also, what a gift it was to be able to see and hold so much of her beautiful artwork.

    "Yesterday in Coupeville" in progress.

    The water, trees, birds...  What a good piece of time.

    There was even a hot pink sunset (pinker than it looks here).

    This photo, with its glowing moons of light, is just how it all felt and was.

holding time

    These are pages in progress from my book created in the workshop.  (This pretty wave is an indigo gift from Deb.)

    I loved how Christine's prompts gently brought focus and honing to our stories.  There was an exercise that I thought would be a few quick words that turned into a rough fairy tale that helped to make a bit more sense of myself.

    Another assignment, that I thought would be a short story, became a long list, and later lines in stitch, of memories in rivers, pools, lakes and the sea.

    And yesterday, I took the book completely apart, and started this new page, not wanting the lessons and feelings of the gifts of this time to end.

playdate for new old friends

    After years of "knowing" each other on-line, Deb and I have finally met!  How great it's been to spend time getting to know each other in real-life.

    We're spending time in Coupeville, WA, as students in Christine Mauersberger's workshop.  She has brought us a world of techniques to explore.  

    Here are just a few from the first two days...

    Cyanotype prints- this one had seed beads and buttons on it.

    Geli plate prints.

    Strike-out poem.

    A happy accident with a piece of Velma's beautiful handmade paper.  After dipping the edge into the indigo, it caught on itself, folding up into a wave... more to come with this page.

    The indigo drying tree.

    There's a lot more, too... Christine is filling our minds and time and with creative play, with two more days to go!

All Stitched Up

    This weekend was the opening reception for the "All Stitched Up" Book Arts Exhibition.  

    I'm very happy to have my "Rhythm" booklet included in this beautiful gathering of artists books "celebrating the work of book artists’ where stitching has become an integral part of the visual design... To stitch is to join together, to mend, or fasten as with stitches – to sew. To stitch is to bring together fabric, paper, wounds of the body, or cultural divides. Stitching can be an act of healing, hope, practicality, creativity, and revolution."

    I really appreciated and admired the creativity of the many artists who went outside of the traditional book shape...

    “Stitching the Forest Together” by Lucia Harrison

    "Trial By Fire" by Catherine Alice Michaelis

    "How a Bandage Works" by Lucy Childs.

    Really wished I could have flipped the pages of this one, "Embroidered Stories of Migration" by Ricardo Gomez, Angie Tamayo & the Jluchiyej Nichimetic Cooperative.

    The exhibit of over fifty books is lovely- in curation, display, and in the variety of medium, techniques and stories that each book holds.  It's an honor to be a part of it.