wobbly and askew

Having just returned from a trip to Portland I am wobbly and askew. Catching up on correspondence, planning upcoming journeys and trying desperately to focus on work, I flounder in the soup.  This shadow is a good metaphor for how my head feels. Pointy and tilted, looking down while trying to stand up. I may try to stitch it this afternoon. Nothing to lose.

Good news today in the swamp of email. I have been chosen for a solo show in the Nashville Airport. It makes my head spin. More details to come.

awestruck

Our yard is bursting with azaleas, irises, bluebells, salvia, hostas, lilies and mint.

But we don't have any peonies. So I slipped over to the neighbors yard and snipped a couple of buds from their prolific bush. Don't tell anyone.

Hard to imagine how this species decided to put so many stamens in one pocket. Looks like a party going on.

With a little help from Jeremy

Continuing my work with children's drawings and abstract backgrounds.

A before photo of the environment created for the drawings. The pieced fabric is composed of random scraps of solid colored fabrics. The striations of black stitching across the piece are based on stitching a straight line at every intersection of two fabrics. This black on black texture is hard to see in this shot. The piece is about 17 inches square.

An after shot: where the drawings populate the surface with mystery. That pointy headed smiling guy in the lower right corner was drawn by the very talented Jeremy. Thanks, Jeremy, for your contribution to my art. The piece will be called Don't Go in the Basement.

stars and bars

I made some progress on the hand stitching for this flag quilt over the weekend. I debate each addition of detail with these questions:

  • Is it worth the effort?
  • Am I adding detail for a reason?
  • When does decoration move the piece away from meaning?

I think I need to add one more star. It's hard to count them when they are so scattered. Saw in the paper today that on this day in 1870 William Seward signed a treaty with Russia to purchase the territory of Alaska for a little over 7 million dollars.

A friend of mine called the large basting stitches between the rows Frankenstein stitching.  Though it is hard to see here, the stitching is in alternating colors of red, white and blue. A visual metaphor for the patriotism that stitches this nation together, however loosely.

While channeling my inner Jasper Johns, Betsy Ross and Faith Ringgold, I am also watching the news about personal freedoms, states rights and race relations. The raggedness of this piece feels right for the era in which we are living. Does it seem to you that we are hanging be a thread? Unraveling?

How much should I tidy up?