Back under the needle. Because everything here needs to be reconsidered. It's time. I am quilting this one, using field, black and white fields of stitch. Creating a nine patch overlay. This one is very thin. I was going to add another layer. But. It makes me think, reminds me of the thin-ness of shelter. How we divide space to make place but how space can be so easily reclaimed.
I remember the woven stitched moon and how you stitched down the creases in the top triangle. Both must have been added to the existing experiment. Lovely.
As a child We lived in a two story Victorian house my dad remodeled. One day he removed a wall revealing a sealed off old staircase. It was magical for me like something out of the Chronicles of Narnia. And just now I remember accessing the staircase as a portal in the dreamtime. He redid these stairs very nicely. The front stairs were also magical…dark walnut and ornately carved.
In The OA on Netflix they talk about house as a space which is repeated and exits in other dimensions/universes. This is true and opens up the idea of how when we create here we are also creating elsewhere.
Ha, well I’m not sure it is true, but it interesting to imagine.
What is true or not to someone is a matter of belief systems and experience. If you look at history people all over the world have spoken about such things for thousands of years. It is what sacred art is about.
Your work is an art journal…to be revisited periodically to tell you about your true self and to inspire us to do the same. This piece has so many facets and techniques to set the mind flowing with ideas and images. Thank you for so freely sharing them.
I often bitch about all the old stuff that hangs around but then, yes, the history is comforting even with out the details of all that happened.
I am remembering a day that my dad built a wall in a large room to divide it in to two, one room for my brothers to share and one for me. A wall is really pretty easy to build. Also thinking about load bearing walls. And then…how a cloth and a story can take a person places, make you remember things.
I remember when my dad knocked down the wall between a bedroom that used to be my bother’s and the kitchen. Oh the space!
Walls are very interesting. And yes how easily they can be built. Taking them down requires some consideration and understanding.
I wonder how far back is too far back to remember. But then how the sense of it remains in maybe some other form. And rides on a thought.
The energy that the stitching creates. It vibrates. 2013. The year SO much changed for me.
I cannot seem to imagine all that time has passed.
Lovely colour combination
the colors are hard to catch, they change as neutrals do, with the time of day
“You’ll remember me when the west wind moves. Among the fields of barley. You can tell the sun in his jealous sky, When we walked in fields of gold.”…Moved me to song
I am so often called by song to express my sense of something
love the 5-pointed wishing star, as tho it’s still evolving. and the raised roof line on the one side. feels like it’s moving backward ‘n forward in time. how a shelter retains the spirit imprint of what has gone before.
there are various spins here.
your basket-of-self is like the rising sun
a woven super moon
and the all seeing eye
(“muchness” indeed Mo !)
I have a basket diary, it is time to revisit that too
This one has such “oomph”
so long ago, still has the same heartbeat
This has such a Native American feel to it: very sacred.
I think the basket has a lot to do with that
I didn’t remember this one either, but wow, what a difference the lighting, the stitching…a new sense of home. I’m thinking of how the thinness of home reflects the insecurity of home for so many. The deep, dimensional cloth has much to say.
yes, exactly. the thin-ness of home
I feel like this cloth says everything.
That would be a relief.
Adore. Especially the little black “x” stitched in the middle of the white wavy moon. An ethereal piece of a thousand words (and worlds as Valerianna said).
This one seems as if it is from another mystical world. Janet
Yeah, my strange past😎
Oh that woven moon has The Muchness *as the Mad Hatter saisd to Alice) and the Red Mountain reminds me of Ricki Lee Jones album ‘Girl at her Volcano’, how home can become a self portrait ((((Jude)))
I suppose home, the sense of it, might become that, if there is time.
Jude- are you familiar with Bachelard’s Poetics of Space? His work is the driving force and inspiration for my fiber work. Your work, process and thinking are so in tune with this and I am so thankful to have found your voice.
I’m not, I will check it out.
The table of contents is a poem
Love your woven thread basket 💙
there are many basket selves
Feels like worlds within worlds, this one
that is about right
i don’t remember this one. it’s very complex
I’m surprised…at one point it hung between fear and longing.
What a difference the stitched enhancements and embellishments make to this one. It is stunning.
in this context, yes. Today though, it is entirely different to me….it’s the eye at the top, that
was the star always as it is here?
Me too. This one moved so slowly I cannot remember it changing.
I’ve decided not to check back, and just see it today. And continue.