Zen Tangles and Stitching

Besides the Knoxville FreeStyle EGA group, I am a member of the Atlanta EGA group, Stitching With A Twist.  This group is working on a project that will require our developing zen tangles that we stitch-- "tangling," it is called.  My problem is that I can't draw a tangle and then stitch it.  I think in reverse.  To me, it is easier to think of stitches that will work in a zen tangle and then draw the tangle based on those stitches rather than the other way around.

This is the beginning of my little sampler of possible tangling stitches (somehow, calling a stitch a "tangling stitch" sends the wrong message).  It is stitched mostly in a single strand of cotton floss, and, at lower center, with some DMC matt cotton the weight of a wool tapestry yarn:

There as many stitches on the "won't work" Doodle Cloth as this Sample!  A nice occupation for a snowy February day.

Fine-Thread Stitching with Beads and Ultrasuede

Recently I needed to go through things to loan pieces for a small exhibition of work for a new FreeStyle group just taking root in Knoxville.  When the box was returned, I found some small pieces to share.

These two 6" x 6" pieces were both done in the fall.    The first, with the green background, was an exercise in tiny stitching and texture.  Sometimes neat, tiny stitches do not have much textural interest.  There are beads and Ultrasuede to help the textural considerations along.  Most stitching is a single strand of floss, with some sewing machine cotton.  I used Beading needles on both pieces.

Below is a design worked from a mark-making session with the FreeStylers.  We experimented with different tools for making marks on paper with a water-based printer's ink, then chose a section of our mark-making to translate into a stitched design.  There is charcoal, medium and light grey thread used for the stitching, along with Ultrasuede, Bugle Beads and antique glass buttons.

Both pieces were labors of love.  We had been stitching for months with heavy yarns, and this lighter -weight stitch was a break in texture.

Waiting for the Spring to Come

We will make a trip to the beach with my sister, son and daughter-in-law and The Adorables.  This is always a magical time for us.  Until then, I have this picture, a snapshot in cloth, to remind me of how much I will enjoy the change of scenery and softer air.

Surrounded by the tidewater river, there is a lighthouse between the mainland and the islands that can only be glimpsed briefly from the road, but that glimpse is very worth the waiting.  I have set the old lighthouse in moonlight and taken all sorts of artistic liberties with color and shape.

Hurry, Spring!

February Is Rolling Along

Since Thanksgiving I have been cleaning out and sorting in the studio.  This is meant to be a thoughtful clean-out, where I open boxes or drawers and handle things (some I haven't seen for years!) and make decisions about how this may or may not fit in my future studio plans.  Things that are lovely and useful, though not what I am interested in (or need) anymore, I put aside for the Etsy Shop.  Unfortunately, what is happening is that as I pull things out they start talking to me, and the sorting stops while I sit and work with them.  I have several small pieces that have come from this clean-out!

This is the curse of the tactile person.

Things that are too heavy to ship out, I am offering to my grandchildren's art teacher (whom they really love).  Things too esoteric for elementary schoolers are for my FreeStyle group next week.  But, this is such a small amount of stuff!

I decided I would use my sketchbook and work on putting ideas there instead of stopping all progress by beginning projects.  Well, that was a bit of tom foolery-- I simply made more fuel to fan the flames, filling page after page, starting a new book, working out the details of a stitchery and then sweeping out a spot on the work table and-- yes:  starting a new little project.

Yesterday I sorted a foot-high stack of fabrics I had painted, dyed, discharged, printed.  Some are colored from several processes . . .  and some are small pieces left-over from other projects.  Of course, I set right to work with a little stack I had pulled out for myself.  There was a small Etsy pile (not nearly large enough), and I am going straight out there this morning and go through that stack again with the shop in mind.

This is where I need people.  My people would take me firmly in hand and say, "We'll handle this for you.  Go inside and have some tea.  We'll show you the results in an hour."

People--- where are you?????

January Musings: Stitches and Poems

The New Year is always a time of looking-- looking back over the shoulder, looking forward into the unknown.  I do not make resolutions anymore, but I try to take up projects or ideas in small doses, giving attention to one thing at a time.  Well, maybe two things.  Never those long, impractical lists that are more wistful thinking than reasonable expectation.

One thing I have decided to explore this year is mark-making in all its aspects.  We did a bit of this in FreeStyle last year, and I discovered how peaceful it is to take up some improvised tool and dip it into ink or paint and see what mark it will make on a piece of paper or fabric.  The marks stretch into a rhythm that slows down my day, as if I am marking out a pool of quiet around me, a place to work and uncover ideas.  And in the quiet, the ideas simply pour out.

After the mark-making, the needle and thread come out.  If I were mute, I could explain myself to the world with that ancient medium, but the world would have to slow down to "hear" my answer.  Slowing down, of course, is the key.

In the Ways To Slow Myself Down, I add this story:  I fell onto the patio, via a metal chair, in early January.  Since that time, everything in my little world has slowed, sometimes to a grinding halt.  Stitches were put in and taken out (of me, for goodness' sake!), more doctors, the re-defining what is important . . .  I am so grateful for stitches that held me together while my head healed.  Grateful, also, for the stitches that kept my hands busy between the first accident in November until now.  From that time of slowing down, I have this piece, which is a sort of poem to the winter.

Poems are ways of slowing down-- reading meaning in the spaces between words is not so different from finding meaning in the little spaces between stitches.  Both words and stitches can be layered, thick with meaning.  They can be frivolous or deeply serious.  Terse or chatty.  Fluid or choppy.  What perfect complements they make!