tool kit and two weeks

I am preparing for an artist's residency at the Indiana National Lakeshore in September. Rounding up the essential tools is actually a bit challenging. Do I need my sewing machine? Should I bring my computer? How much fabric? Will I work on new ideas or bring an existing project?

Can I cut fabric without my self sealing mat and t-square? Should I focus on ideas rather than production? Will I be able to change my focus from my studio practice to a more free-wheeling experiential style?

They are all good questions. But the answers won't be clear until I get there. So I have narrowed the selection down to these essential hand tools: Black and white YLI thread, chalk marker, machinger gloves, Mr. Tweezerman tweezers, an assortment of hand needles including two self-threading versions, rotary cutter (and blades), fabric pencil, seam ripper, scissors in two sizes, silicone thimble, extra bobbins and my phone for recording images. Those will all fit in a small bag.

I won't bring the t-square but I will take a small mat to cut on. I will bring linen napkins to use for compositions, some white and black Kona cotton, a roll of cotton batting and my sewing machine. I'll borrow my husband's laptop so that I can still upload photos and write my journal. I won't have a design wall, a fabric stash or large cutting and ironing tables. I won't have my day-to-day routine or chores to do to keep the studio and house going. 

I will have new horizons, new climate, new input. Turning the head to a different focus is a good thing.

Queendom

Our bees left us this week. We tried to keep them by cutting this branch off into a new hive. And they seemed to be happy. For a couple of days.

Then, sometime yesterday or the night before, they left. For cooler pastures? Because of the moon? With a song in their hearts? We missed the migration, the drama of leaving a fully stocked home. And wonder about the motives and catalyst. Queens have a will of their own and a duty to build and thrive in their queendom.

A sad day for us nonetheless. They left a hive of spoiled honey—larvae looking for their keepers. The heat makes the air warm with honey drafts.

Fun with patterns

The process started with this simple drawing.

Summer abundance makes me want to dance all day. If it weren't for the 107 heat index I would be rollicking with the skinks and yellow jackets in my garden. For now I will stay indoors and wait for the moon.

Spent the day yesterday playing with pattern. Here is a little glimpse into the process.

I love American Craft magazine

I gotta tell you, the folks at American Craft magazine are amazing, and I'm not just saying that because they chose me for an article in their magazine. Not only do they share the work of Masters in their craft, but also seek out emerging artists and ideas, host seminars and workshops and support the work of many craft artists through their website, library and archives. Their mission simply: We champion craft. And they take that very seriously. 

American Craft values:

• Societal Importance: The Council advocates for craft’s ability to deeply enrich lives, promote cultural expression, and contribute to the economic vitality of a community.
• Inspiration: The Council strives to inspire creativity and artistry in makers, appreciation of beauty and meaning for the craft enthusiast, and thoughtful discourse on the evolution of craft.
• Excellence: The Council pledges to cultivate and recognize excellence in its many forms, support innovation, and continually examine our understanding of craft, materials, artistic expression, and cultural significance.
• Inclusiveness: The Council values the diversity of craft, its makers, and audiences, because craft’s strength lies in the shared respect of making and the appreciation of the artistic voice.

How do artists get noticed?

A recent blog post gives artists insight into how the magazine chooses artists for their magazine. In it American Craft editor in chief Monica Moses gives me a high five for this blog. WOW.

Check it out here:

http://craftcouncil.org/post/how-artists-get-noticed-editors-view

Subscribe Now.

details

Working on the last bits of a piece can be like standing in line at a government bureaucracy. Tedious buzzing calculations — how many more stitches for that one last line of stitching? Will the employee behind the counter tell me I am in the wrong line after standing (im)patiently for an hour in the first line? Can the exhibit use a staple gun to put my piece up instead of me having to stitch a sleeve to the back?  Tedious buzzing reminders that this is a slow art.

Tying this piece every two inches with crochet thread has given it a new dimension as well as a blister on my left middle finger.

I start to question my sanity when I work on little details for days on end and then tear half of them away. Or when I decide to add another layer to an already complicated collage. Is this layering saying something about my state of mind? Short answer: yes.

Pollinators is an assemblage of details tied together with details.

The rewards? Meditation, escape, complexity, depth, and mystery. I let the thread lead me.

This piece on nuclear arms testing had to have some olive branches drifting to the edge.