In my studio practice, I push myself to go deeply into the unknown. It involves unpacking collections of salvaged materials, found objects, donated fabrics, to see what can be created from chaos. I'm committed to reusing, revisioning, remembering that there is always enough, I already have everything I need. This is a major shift. In years past, I contemplated my concept or theme before beginning a piece. That was my former modus operandi, and so it's both challenging and enlightening to not be in charge. What it teaches me is that if I allow the materials to speak, my real work is to listen. Silence prevails as I wait for information.
Turning to the scrap heap before me, I create textile constructions that I hope reflect our shared experience of chaos, uncertainty, and constant shifts. A sense of wonder presents itself as I begin choosing materials that might not be seen as complementary, stitching them together in a way that I hope might make beauty out of chaos. This everyday ritual began in earnest as the pandemic began to besiege our world. Taking up a needle and thread, I endeavor to transform fear with fabric, and anxiety with artfulness. The solemnity in the studio bears witness to the sacred, the secular, and the spirit of art itself, as I reweave the social fabric of our world. Meditating on this as a goal, my mind gets quiet while my hands and needle go to work.
In my studio practice, I push myself to go deeply into the unknown. It involves unpacking collections of salvaged materials, found objects, donated fabrics, to see what can be created from chaos. I'm committed to reusing, revisioning, remembering that there is always enough, I already have everything I need. This is a major shift. In years past, I contemplated my concept or theme before beginning a piece. That was my former modus operandi, and so it's both challenging and enlightening to not be in charge. What it teaches me is that if I allow the materials to speak, my real work is to listen. Silence prevails as I wait for information.
Turning to the scrap heap before me, I create textile constructions that I hope reflect our shared experience of chaos, uncertainty, and constant shifts. A sense of wonder presents itself as I begin choosing materials that might not be seen as complementary, stitching them together in a way that I hope might make beauty out of chaos. This everyday ritual began in earnest as the pandemic began to besiege our world. Taking up a needle and thread, I endeavor to transform fear with fabric, and anxiety with artfulness. The solemnity in the studio bears witness to the sacred, the secular, and the spirit of art itself, as I reweave the social fabric of our world. Meditating on this as a goal, my mind gets quiet while my hands and needle go to work.
