flower power

A couple of times in the past months I have collected faded and discarded flowers and other plant materials form Hedge, a local florist shop located a few blocks from my studio. I am fascinated with the inherent beauty of these offerings and it is intriguing to be able to use these plants at the end of their existence. They range from roses, ranunculus, and lilies, to greenery like eucalyptus and myrtle.

I have started a new body of work that will use images of these plants along with the natural dye processes I more commonly use. A few samples are on display here, along with a variety of botanical contact prints. It has been a wonderful opportunity to use exotic (for me) plants such as eucalyptus and to learn more about its properties as a dye plant and how to best use it for printing. Normally I only use plant materials from my neighborhood and region in my studio practice.  

I am grateful to Hedge for letting me take on these fading beauties!

making time

I want to hold on to time. I want to know what it is and where it is going. I need to to be able to see ahead. But I also want to remember where it went.

I made a book, a hefty substantial book that will keep track of my time for the rest of this year. Each day has its own page. There is room for notes as well as appointments. There are sections for lists and for ideas. I can look at each month or the next year. I can draw and dream. All of it is wrapped up in a delicious hefty paper from Cave and kept secure by a vintage button and strands of cotton.

The calendar pages are bought and downloaded from Maylem Made on Etsy, with small modifications I was able to customize them to fit the format. The binding is an interpretation of a scored and stitched binding in Monica Langwe's book "Papper och stygn" (still only available in Swedish, but an English edition is in the works). I love the irregularity of the stitches on the spine, and how mine turned out more irregular than most... 

Why go through all this trouble, you may ask. Until now most of my doings have been organized in electronic calendars on my computer and my phone. I still try to keep that up, but to really feel that I have grasp I need to see it - both in detail and in overview. And despite all its advantages our tiny phones are not that visual. Nor are they tactile. 

I also wanted to start writing down what I do. I have not kept a journal for many years, and this is not that kind of journal anyways. Its more like record keeping. I will be able to tell that the sun shone during the memorial service for my friend's mom. And that the Pimm's cup that my husband treated me to the other night was extra refreshing. 

Maybe it is all due to having turned 55 recently. At this age it is easy to feel that time is slipping away. I named the book "making time", because it takes time to track time. But maybe a more apt name would be "keeping time". Surely that is what I am trying to do.

the joy of teaching

Student work, Charlottesville, VA and Mora, Sweden.

This summer I have been teaching two separate workshops in two separate parts of the world. In June I hosted a three day long class at the Barn Swallow, a gallery just west of Charlottesville, VA and in August I joined bookbinder Monica Langwe for a four day workshop in her beautiful studio in Mora, Sweden. 

Student work, Mora, Sweden.

Both classes focused on the basic principles of eco-printing, including fabric preparation, plant selections, and techniques for bundling and clamping. We also covered other types of natural mark-making and explored basic natural dye methods. We discussed proper harvesting methods, color fastness, and the importance of learning to embrace the outcome—whether bold and striking or subtle and ethereal.

Student work, Mora, Sweden

Student work, Cahrlottesville, Virginia

We created books for collecting work samples. In Mora, Monica guided us through the process of making a beautiful sample book using a pyramid binding structure. We ate amazing food, replenished our energy with coffee and laughter. Throughout it all there were plenty of wonderful conversations about art, nature, and life. 

Monica Langwe demonstrating the binding technique for a sample book. Mora, Sweden

As with any workshop, whether you are a student or the teacher, the most rewarding part is the interactions with the participants. Everyone comes with their own wealth of knowledge and willingness to share. It was a privilege to get to know my students this summer and it makes me happy when I spot posts on facebook or instagram, where they show off new work, reflecting their love of this amazing, imperfect natural printing technique.

Student work, Charlottesville, VA

Student work, Mora, Sweden

Student work, Charlottesville, VA

Student work, Mora, Sweden

Student work, Mora, Sweden

The images in this post feature work made by my students. I have added captions to identify which class the photos are from. Two different environments, climates, and eco systems - still producing beauty and magic in their own rights. If you want to read more about the class in Mora you can find Elisabet Jansson's two blog posts here and here. Lillemor Larsson-Haga also wrote a post about the class here (all three blogposts are in Swedish...). I will be teaching several classes next year - three of them will take me back to Monica's wonderful studio in Mora. There will be a natural indigo / shibori class in June and in August we will repeat the introduction to eco-printing as well as offer an advanced class. Details are still in the works. Please contact Monica Langwe if you are interested in attending. There will also be one possibly two classes in the US next year, email me if you want to be added to the workshop email list.

Fabric prepared for printing, Charlottesville, VA

Student work on paper, Mora, Sweden

Student work, Charlottesville, VA

Our wood fired pot, Mora, Sweden

Student work, Mora, Sweden

plain and simple

In the era of instagram, pinterest, and ello feeds it is easy to get lost in possibilities. There is so much beauty, cleverness, and craftsmanship to be inspired by. Many of the artists that I admire the most, especially in the fiber world, create jaw-dropping work that is rich, complex, and luscious. 

In recent months the stimulation has subconsciously affected the way I have been thinking about my own work—urging me to include more layers, more color, larger stitch, bolder lines. It is natural for us all to want to explore new ideas and try to find something that gives us an edge. But after a few months of testing, pushing myself, and altering my techniques, I finally had an aha-moment this morning.

Simple is who I am. I want to return to where I started—with leaves, linen, traditional shapes, and repetitions. When I stick to the basics, I feel grounded and whole. I know what works and how to tell my story. Hopefully the experiments of months past, still will bring something fresh to the process. But newness can be subtle and I am eager to circle back, focusing on form, beloved materials, and muted colors. Simple and plain.

gloominess

Although I consider myself a mostly happy and optimistic person, this time of year often leaves me feeling sad and rather gloomy. The seasons are about to shift, but the mornings are still dark and damp, and a chill lingers in the air.

I am also most content when my flock is happy. Right now both of my boys are stressed and exhausted from work, school, uncertainty, and relentless expectations. We live in a society where slowing down and cutting back are viewed as failures, which leaves me struggling to provide advice that is meaningful.

Then there is the current political situation here in the US that fills me with despair. And Ody, the precious cat who came into our lives briefly, soon had to go because Pippi, the equally precious dog, could not cope... Problems, big and small, become magnified and pile up, when there is a general sense of unease in our lives. 

Gloominess spills over into other aspects of life. It is harder to focus and figure out where to go. Work seems insignificant in comparison, which unintentionally affects my creativity and how I approach upcoming projects. 

There are things that help me cope. Mindful walks, observing signs of pending spring and random natural beauty. Dinner with friends. Knitting. Stitching. And most of all, to simply be and to love and care with all my might. 

time well spent?

Even before the recent renovation, the Renwick Gallery was one of my favorite museums. I found it to be a place where craft was treated as art, and where art was celebrated for its craftsmanship. I have never fully understood the blurry lines between the craft world and the art world anyways, and at the Renwick I feel like those rules don't really apply.

Naturally I wanted to join the party for the re-opening of the museum. My lovely husband and I went to one of the opening galas, mingled, toasted in champaign, and walked around the room sized installations, goggle-eyed and in awe. Then I went back a few weeks later, with my friend Jennifer, to take it all in again, in daylight this time, which gave the marbles in Maya Lin's Chesapeake bay watershed extra sparkle.

Maya Lin

Although I truly admired all of the work displayed and the gallery renovation itself, this is not a post about Wonder or even about the Renwick. It is a post about time. Especially about time spent creating art and its worth.

A few days after the Renwick opening The Washington Post's art and architecture critic Philip Kennicott wrote a review about the exhibit. Overall he was fairly positive, and beside a major complaint about the neon signage he seemed pleased about the renovation. Then there was this passage: 

"The quantity of human labor and investment embodied in these large-scale works, so painstakingly built up from small bits and pieces, may leave you wondering: Is this a productive use of time? Artists and craftsmen will bristle at the question. If you have to ask it, you’ve failed to see what’s wonderful about a great painting, or the thousands of hours woven into a rug, or the centuries of community toil embodied in a great European cathedral. But if we live on a dying planet, the question becomes very different. Is there something futile and even decadent in the amount of human energy we invest in trying to fit a representation of nature into a gallery space, while that same world heats up, desiccates and shrivels away before our eyes?"

As an artist who not only work in a time consuming medium, but who also focuses my art on the fragility and preciousness of nature, this paragraph did make me bristle. Although Mr. Kennicott obviously anticipateed my reaction, he still decided that this was a point valid enough to bring up in his review.

He is implying that if you are an environmentalist, your time would be better spent actively working on behalf of the environment, assumingly through political activism, engagement in environmental organizations, and hands on work such as river clean-ups and making environmentally sounds choices in our daily life. And he is right. But what I object to is the assumption that this only pertains to artists, and in particular artists who's work relates to nature. Would the world not be a better place if we all devoted more time towards pressing issues like climate change, regardless of our occupation?

I spend endless hours on my work. For me it is incredibly meaningful to let the dye processes develop in their own time, and to slowly work my stitches by hand—hundreds and thousands of them in one sitting. This is my way of celebrate nature and the world we live in. I think that by making and presenting work that embodies nature, we bring awareness about the issues at hand. I can't imagine working in another way. And even if I did, would my time spent making art be more justified if my methods were less meticulous?

I do engage in local environmental issues and I strive to live in a sustainable way, but for me it is not a question of either or. I believe there is room for both activism and beauty in ones life. I believe most of my actions, whether embroidering hundreds of french knots, creating oversized quilts from my prints, or being a tree stewart in my community, eventually will make the world a better place.

You can read Philip Kennicott's full review here. I would love to hear what you think.

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always learning

The beginning of the year is a good time to take stock, rethink, and maybe consider new directions. This year I promised myself a month of experimentation and explorations with no real demand of producing or finish work. I started by enrolling in "Developing sketchbooks", an online workshop with Dionne Swift, a UK-based textile artist. I have never kept a sketchbook. I have various notebooks for jotting down ideas and make rough, rudimentary sketches of concepts. But sketchbooks and their pristine white pages waiting to be filled have always terrified me. I am mediocre at drawing, and my perfectionist self always get in the way whenever I try. So I figured this class would either push me over the edge or push me in a new direction. I will not divulge all the details of the class, but Dionne had some great ideas for overcoming fears like mine.

First she encouraged us to use a sketchbook with removable/replacable pages and to work on the pages outside of the book itself. Suddenly there is a lot of freedom, including the option to not put the page back into the book if it is not pleasing. It also allows you to change the order of the pages and to design sequences, add text etc. The book can constantly be evolving. Her other great suggestion was to "mess up" the pages before the actual sketching begins—add color wash, dip in dyes, stamp, cover with pastels, or use colored sheets of paper. No more white pages staring back at you...

So there will be sketchbooks in my future - maybe not in the traditional sense of a drawing a day or elaborate studies, but more as a place to gather ideas and push techniques that I want to use. I have only taken a few online classes in the past, and this one clearly exceeded my expectations. Dionne was very engaged with the group and there was great interaction between the participants - much like a real life workshop would be. I highly recommend it. If you are interested check out Dionne's online classroom for future offerings. She is also a very talented artist, creating beautiful drawn and thread painted landscapes among other work.

This past month I also had the opportunity to work with Liz Peak, an extraordinary monotype and etching artist from Arlington, Virginia who recently moved to Charlottesville. Patiently she walked me through the ins and outs of the etching press, and guided me through the creation of my first monotypes. She introduced me to etching, taught me how to incorporate plants with the monoprints, all while we discussed art, artists and processes. It was a wonderful and eye opening experience, and I am so grateful. I will continue to study with Liz, and to use the press in her studio. 

As an artist it is easy to get stuck in a rut - whether it is a preferred process, motif, or color range. I have never been good at creating spontaneous art on the spot, but both of these learning experiences has encouraged me to jump right in and to be less concerned about the outcome. It is quite exhilarating.

wardrobe in the making

Over the years I have been an advocate for less consumption. Of stuff in general, but of clothing in particular. Most of us are aware that the clothing industry is responsible for a large part of the waste and pollution in the world, be it discolored rivers from dye run-offs in Asia or mountains of discarded clothing piling up in landfills here or in Africa. However, I am also the first to admit that making a commitment to never buy overseas mass produced clothing has proved to be difficult. Supply is the first limiting factor - it is still really hard to find American made garments, although it is getting better. Price is the second factor, American made and especially artisan made clothing is still prohibitively expensive for most people, me included. 

My resolution (of sorts) is to avoid buying clothes at all. I have sorted through my belongings and I am not lacking for anything; winter coats, dance shoes, swim wear—its all covered. Instead I intend to make what I want, and possibly allow myself a visit to one of the many vintage clothing stores in our town. But even when making our own clothes (or buying pre-used) I think it is important to ensure it is something we really like and that will work with other things we own. If it is not quite the right color or the fit is too snug it most likely will not be worn. A homemade discarded garment is just as bad as an impulse bought discarded garment, with the added element of wasted time...

I have recently gone through my entire closet, and although I am not compulsive enough to catalog every garment, I do have an idea of what I own, and what colors are most common (yup — lots of black, gray, and brown, with a sprinkle of burnt orange and blueish gray here and there). Personal style is another issue to consider. My default uniform is a pair of jeans, a tshirt, and a sweater for chilly days. I often admire more adventurous outfits on other people, but they rarely work for me. So my current (and future) wardrobe will always be a variation of the uniform, the jeans are occasionally swapped for a skirt or other pants and I throw in a few dresses or tunics in the mix as well.

I will give myself a modest budget for patterns, yarn, and fabric purchases, although my current stash is quite large. Mostly I need to feed my mild obsession with Alabama Chanin inspired garments. I have made several plain t-shirts from their patterns (some featured here) and must admit it is utterly rewarding to make something comfortable and beautiful totally by hand. And if you forgo their famous fancy embellishments, it is actually a rather quick sew. 

Knitting is something else that I can't give up. I recently finished this gray lila sweater by Carrie Bostick Hoge and I absolutely love it. I will extend my effort and make more things for the rest of my family — they are all reaching an age where I think they will start to appreciate something handmade. I will post about my progress and accomplishments throughout the year. I realize that this might be a bit self indulgent and even boring to others, but somehow I think that setting an example (or fessing up to ones failures) could be inspirational?

how it all began

Almost eight years ago I bravely dove head-first into the wonderful world of blogging. That first post was the beginning of many things — friendships, creativity, explorations, and self discovery. Over the years the frequency of my posts has waned. In 2015 the post count was 10. There are many theories why blogging may be on the decline. First and foremost I think we humans are distractible creatures, and as of late there are a multitude of things to be distracted by, from tweets and instagram feeds, to reddit commentaries, movie streaming, and facebook posts.  

Many more things happened last year, than what was covered in those 10 post. I took a wonderful shibori workshop, hosted another successful open studio tour. My work was rejected and accepted for exhibits around the nation. My sisters in stitch and I held our third annual summit, and my family visited from Sweden. I travelled to New York and Washington DC, more than once. Life was busy and full. Yet writing about it became harder and harder. Somehow it was difficult to make it relevant, to imagine that my doings held interest. It became easier to post an image and a few words to instagram or facebook, and the instant gratification that social media provide is seductive. 

Yet, I miss blogging. I miss the thinking and consideration required. I miss the composition and the writing. But most of all I miss my blogging friends, who still takes the time to read something at length because it sparks an interest, starts a dialog, or creates joy. Therefor I pledge to post more often this coming year. I want to share my thoughts about art, what inspires, and my own artistic aspirations. I hope to find my way back and to reconnect. I want to be more responsive and responsible. Here is to a wonderful 2016 and to new beginnings. If curious you can find that first post from 2008 here...

teaching

I am excited to announce that I will be teaching an eco-printing workshop in Mora, Sweden, next summer, together with book artist Monica Langwe. We will use local plants and materials, and explore natural dye methods and shibori techniques that can be used to enhance the prints. During the class we will collect notes, recipes and samples into a hand bound book structure. The class will run from August 2 - 5, 2016. For more details and to register, please visit  Monica Langwe's website

A similar class will be offered in the spring of 2016 at The Barn Swallow, here in Charlottesville, Virginia, USA. The final details are in the works. If you are interested please contact me directly to be added to the class mailing list.

Solace

This image of messages on cloth, dancing in the wind above the arid land near Andamooka in South Australia, fills me with immense joy and gratitude.

The collective poetry project, Solace, was initiated and created by Australian artist India Flint. She solicited pennons and flags from artists located around the globe, each piece decorated with words and phrases significant to the maker, stitched and embellished onto the cloth. The flags were gathered and cataloged as they arrived to The Observatory, and hung by India (and her faithful assistant Kubbi) during the solstice in June of this year.

The installation will stay in place, exposed to weather and wind indefinitely, and I am imagining that remnants of cloth gradually will be dispersed into the landscape. As an added homage, India Flint also composed a free form poem, using words collected from the pennons, that is published on the project website .

As a participant I now feel connected to a place that I have never visited, but that feels spiritually significant, even from afar. I also feel connected to the other contributors, and their willingness to consider and express what is meaningful and important.

You can learn more about the project and read the poem here, and you will find the background story here. To learn more about India Flint, and her wonderful work and teachings go here. All photos courtesy of India Flint. All rights reserved.

summer tidbits

It has been a glorious summer here in Charlottesville, so far. Although I no longer have school-age kids, I still love the slower pace during the summer months. Its a perfect time for finishing things up, as well as planning ahead.

The  summer exhibits that featured my work are finished, and I am pleased by how successful the two events were. Quercus alba, was part of the spectacular show Hello Hedi, at 23 Sandy Gallery in Portland, OR. The book found a happy home with a private collector, but it is part of a variable edition of three, so there are two additional copies available. If you are interested you can find more information about the book and how to order it here. I already covered the The Sacred Threads exhibit in Herndon, Virginia in an earlier post, but even after the closing of the show I have received compliments and comments regarding Reverence/dogwood. I am grateful to have been part of both of these events.

An article about my work was published in the summer issue of Art Quilting Studio. I think it is still available on the newsstands and it features a range of interesting artists, including Debbie Lyddon and Joan Schulze, two of my absolute favorites. 

Most importantly the slow summer schedule has allowed me plenty of studio time. I am experimenting with new methods to make my work more 3-dimensional, and testing new print techniques. I am also finishing up some pieces that have been laying in wait. I am quite pleased with the results of it all.

sacred threads

The Sacred Threads exhibition opened this past weekend. This is a show dedicated to quilts about joy, inspiration, spirituality, healing, grief, peace, and brotherhood. Over 300 pieces by artists from all over the country, fill the exhibit space adjacent to the sanctuary in Floris United Methodist Church in Herndon, Virginia. Naturally there are a variety of styles and stories represented among these quilts, but each piece oozes of passion for its subject matter and the artform itself. I only wish that the venue was larger and brighter, it was difficult to maneuver through the narrow walkways, and sometimes impossible to step back and view a piece from afar. I have featured a small selection of my favorites here, including my own Reverence / Dogwood. I am truly honored to be included! 

Lorie McCown's They Came from Somewhere else (detail)

War in Black and White by The Pixeladies (detail left) and Bird's Eye View by Wen Redmond (detail right)

Trayvon Martin: 8 of Wooden Spoons (Wands) in the Kitchen Tarot by Susan Shie (detail).

Aspen IV—Sunny Day  by Dorothy Raymond (detail)

Worn by Virginia Greaves (detail)

If you are in the Washington DC are I recommend a visit! You can visit the website for more information. I also believe that part of the exhibit will be traveling around the country starting this fall. 

Reverence / Dogwood by Lotta Helleberg (detail)

refreshed

What a whirlwind start of the summer it has been. In May I travelled to Sweden to visit my mom, sisters, nephews, and friends. All four Helleberg girls flew to Italy to celebrate my mom's 80th birthday, and to explore the areas around Venice, Verona, Lake Garda, and Parma. Once back in Sweden, my sister Katarina and I drove up the coast to our summerhouse in the western archipelago, to spend five days hiking, reading, giggling, sipping wine, stitching, cooking, and swimming (once, briefly). When I landed at Dulles airport in Washington DC, my oldest son picked me up and we drove straight south to Sandbridge Beach, where the rest of my family was waiting. A week of sun lapping, swimming, and more good food and drink followed....

Refreshed, is almost an understatement describing how I feel. I fully realize how lucky I am to be able to make such journey, and I will savor this for a long time. I did some stitching (mending my sisters' jeans, appliquéing my Alabama Chanin skirt, and finishing my Solace pennant), but otherwise I spent the month absorbing, thinking, sketching, and planning, rather than doing actual work. Much lies ahead—setting up my new studio space, upcoming exhibits, and work. There are so many pent up ideas that need to take form. I am also excited to announce that I will teach my first few workshops in 2016, one here in Charlottesville and one in Mora, Sweden. More to come once dates and details are firmed up. I am glad to be back!

Acceptance

I have recently received a couple of exciting acceptance emails. My book Quercus Alba, will be included in the upcoming Hello Hedi exhibit at Portland's 23 Sandy Gallery this summer.  I am especially excited about the theme for this show—all work will be inspired by the legendary book artist Hedi Kyle and her innovative binding structures. I first learned about Hedi (and her blizzard book in particular), when I took a workshop with India Flint in the summer of 2010. In addition to all the inspirational dyeing and print techniques we learned, we also made our own blizzard books with India's guidance. It is an wonderful folded structure, that has a spine that can be revealed or hidden pending on how the pages are attached. 

Quercus alba celebrates a century old white oak that grows in our back yard here in Charlottesville, Virginia. It is a magnificent tree in its own right, but it is also a symbol of nature's resilience, beauty, and strength. The cover is thick, felted wool, eco printed with oak leaves, tied with wool yarn. The interior pages are cotton, cotton rag, and mulberry papers, and includes additional eco prints, inkjet printed photography and text.

This weekend I found out that  Reverence / dogwood was accepted to Sacred Threads, a biennial exhibit in Herndon, Virginia. The show runs from July 10 – 26 and all works explore themes of spirituality, joy, inspiration, peace, grief, and healing. I featured Reverence here in an earlier post. I am happy that it now will get a chance to be seen. For more information about the exhibits and their schedules visit my exhibit page.

identity

This winter I have worked with a wonderful art consultant, who has put me to task and made me focus. She has taught me to question where I want my art to take me and vice versa, and to consider how it is presented and how I represent myself. It has been an eye opening experience, still in progress. Specific things are already put in place — I now have an updated resumé, an artist statement, fresh photos, and an actual plan for approaching galleries and applying for residencies and grants.

But the most rewarding thing about the process, has been coming to terms with the work I do, and to learn not to shy away from my intentions. Before, when asked, I would say that I make art because I want to create something beautiful. The truth is that I make art because much of what I notice around me is beautiful. By portraying details of my surroundings, I bring attention to the fragility and the preciousness of the ecology and environment we live in.

I am an environmentalist, but that feels like a political description that doesn't mesh with my work. I want to celebrate nature by observation rather than manifestation. My intent was always there. Now I feel confident putting it into words. I think I have found my identity.

photos by Sarah Cramer Shields

inspirations

Meadows, Sasha Anselmo, detail. Pulp.

Looking at art is one of the greatest pleasures in life. I tend to look for art wherever I find myself, but I also make sure to regularly visit museums, galleries, artist studios, and shows. Exposure to art of all kinds, opens my eyes, makes me think, and often leaves an impression in my mind that  is useful in my own art explorations.

Butterick, Georgann De Mille. Pulp.

During the past month I have visited LibertyWorks Arts Workshop, in Fredericksburg, VA, to see the paper exhibit, Pulp. I also travelled to Baltimore, MD, to meet up with my dear friend Jennifer Coyne Qudeen for a visit to American Crafts Council's flagship retail show at the convention center, while fitting in a trip to the Baltimore Museum of Art. A wonderful range of art consumption, I would say. Leaving me happy and fulfilled.

Incubate, Karen Hardy, detail. Pulp.

La Belle Mer, Sheryl Crowell. Pulp.

Pulp, was a wonderful show. Small and intimate, but with plenty of inspiring work. I feel honored to be in such great company. Here is an article about the event by the local newspaper.

I loved the Baltimore Museum of Art. Their collections are both varied and impressive. I especially liked the newly renovated contemporary art section. 

Paid of Folding Four-Panel Screens, Max Kuehne, 1930. Baltimore Museum of Art.

Horse, Elie Nadelman, 1914. Baltimore Museum of Art.

Soundsuit, Nick Cave, 2013. Baltimore Museum of Art.

Terrorist, Christopher Wool, 1990. Baltimore Museum of Art. 

Lastly the ACC show was great fun. Several of my talented friends participated in the show and it was wonderful to visit with them and to browse the many and long isles to discover new artists along the way. For proprietary reasons, no photos were taken, but I'll gladly share links to my favorites with you.

Erin Wilson, Elena Rosenberg, Amy Nguyen, Lillian Jackson, Vicki Essig, Lynn Pollard, Mea Rhee, Lori Katz, and Lisa Klakulak.

Even the weather put on a good show. Snow covered the streets of Baltimore on our last night.

pulp

The month of February is all about paper. This Friday the exhibit Pulp opens at LibertyTown Arts Workshop in Fredericksburg, Virginia. The show features a range of paper works by artists from around the globe. Imagine paper books, sculptures, prints, and clothing... My book What Lies Beyond was selected and I am excited to be part of this far-reaching exhibit.

Meanwhile I am taking a paper making class this month, at the University of Virginia paper studio. We meet every Sunday afternoon to learn how to make paper from natural fibers and textile rags. The class is organized by the Virginia Arts of the Book Center, and the teachers and classmates are all practicing artist in a variety of fields, enriching the experience with their knowledge and enthusiasm.

Dried flax bundles

Rachael making cotton rag paper, using the most beautiful mold.

Preparing linen rags for the beater.

Linen retting—ie rotting.

My paper making journey began last summer, when I took a workshop with Velma Bolyard and Aimee Lee at the Morgan Conservatory in Cleveland  (more about that here). Some of the flax papers I made in that class were used for What Lies Beyond. I love this process and the beauty of the resulting handmade papers. Next I need to figure out how to practically incorporate paper making into my own art practice. 

Amendment 2/9/2015: I learned that What Lies Beyond won third place among the works included in Pulp. I am thrilled. I did not attend the opening, but plan to see the exhibit this week and I will post images asap.

pieces from the past

Taking stock and regrouping are familiar activities this time of year. After going through my inventory I have identified four older art quilts that I think need new permanent homes. Each has its own story, some have travelled to places near and far, and all of them are still great representatives of my art. They are listed in the online store at reduced prices for the month of January. 

Blurring the lines came to be after a stenciling attempt gone wrong. The pattern was still compelling and enforced my belief that you can find beauty in almost everything. It was included in the juried SAQA regional group exhibit Tarnish, at VisArts Gallery, Rockville, Maryland, in May 2014. 38" x 26".

Branching out is a reflection of the reoccurrence of patterns and colors that appear in nature. This quilt was selected for Nature in Craft, an invitational group exhibit at Wayne Art Center, in Wayne, PA, in December 2013. 53" x 26".

Tree lines depicts screen printed versions of a tree branch, photographed on a winter walk in the woods near where I live. 40" x 35".

Intricate geranium leaves were leaf printed on vintage handkerchief linen for Shades of geranium. The background is hand and machine quilted natural linen. 34" x34"

I'll be happy to provide additional images or answer any questions you have about these quilts. Should they happen to call your name…

to be…

…is what I want for this upcoming year. I want to be present, to see, to listen, and to make. I want to notice what is under foot. And what soars high above.

I want to examine the smallest details and discover what is hidden within. 

I want to observe even when impatient and to distill the most ordinary. 

I believe that something insignificant can become something magnificent. And that our world is a precious and marvelous place. Happy new year!