Tag Archives: shadows

Evolution, Origins and Shadows: The Journey of a Very Slow Cloth

26 May

So. This slow cloth which has taken so long–finally letting me know what it is. It began as an exercise. An assemblage of cloth scraps that I love. Scraps I had dyed in all different mediums–but had been boxed up since the move. And then because at the time I was using the machine a lot, the whole cloth experienced a free motion application of thread. And then more thread–hand stitched color defining shape. Pulling out content. Giving meaning too.

And even though the bottom 2/3 of the cloth had the appearance of otherworldly abodes–waters and oceans and primordial habitats–and even though the top 1/3 seemed to emerge into a more celestial realm, the story was still evolving. And it became clear, as so often happens, by stitch. Not good stitch especially, but stitch that was applied un-mindfully–and because there was so much of it, I simply had to cover it up. The scraps at hand took shape on their own..and became this being embracing spheres–of life–balanced– Balanced and grounded .  Grounded but still needing to respond to the moment.  Fine-tune as events change.  Move a bit one way or the other.  Perched and balanced with the ability to respond.

And still very connected to the origin from which it arose. The underbelly of consciousness. The deep. The abode of all creativity, energy, understanding and mystery.   The unknown.   There are two spirits wanting to emerge–down in the bottom left and right corner of the cloth.  I’m waiting for them to emerge–and then the cloth will be complete.

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Shadows and Dyeing with Dandelion

16 May

OK. Shadows. Thinking about shadows. How shadows create dimension. Form. Meaning. How shadows can’t exist without light–whether it’s the light of the sun or the light of consciousness directed inward–casting light into those interior spaces that can be easily ignored–for a while at least. The shadow side. Rich with the stuff that has to be reckoned with. Acknowledged. Polished. Burnished. Cleaned up/recycled and/or discarded. All of that–but not ignored–at least not w/out paying a price.

The shadow side. Here’s an admission. For a long time I pretended I didn’t have a shadow side. And I smile now with this confession. Then later, I struggled against it–for a LONG time. And now? Let’s just say and it’s much easier to welcome than to resist. And funny how the welcoming diffuses its power.

I’m wondering why I’m even talking about this now. So I may or may not leave the first two paragraphs since I really intended to talk about shadows in terms of–photographing baskowls. Most of my pics have them looking like flat saucers. And although my frustration in the past has centered on getting the color right, there was ALWAYS the other issue of depth. How to show depth. And as I write that word–depth–I’m so drawn back to my first thoughts. How our shadow sides can also be equated with depth. Bowls and souls. And shadows.

Again, I had no intention of going here. So I’m stopping right now. But wondering, do these images help? Do the shadows help give a sense of depth and dimension? And the dinner plate? Does it help?

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And some dandelion dyeing going on here. Not a huge fan of yellow–but a fan of color–and always a fan of the alchemy that happens. Expected or not. So, dandelions, red onion skins, peony leaves–old damask soaked in vinegar for a few minutes, wrapped and left overnight.

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The Markings of Days

21 Jan

Noticing markings. On fabric, on walls. Patterns and textures. Patterns of behavior and thoughts that give texture to the hours of these days. A week of images to upload. For tracking. Noticing. Clarification. And noting still the amorphous images that have my attention during these middle days of January. Noticing movement. Inside and out. Movement, yes, and also a certain lightness. Visible on the morning horizon. Palpable with each precious breath.

So…still tracking shadowsshadow1

and noticing this. A turnip from last year’s garden…turnip

and this cloth–paralleling somehow the turnip. A coming out of the hallowed space of winter, into the light again, turnip

Finishing stitches on a piece started when I don’t recalldeer

And yes, I ironed. Ironed what I feel are priceless vegetable dyed scraps so small that some would not hold 7 beans. Two perhaps. But they’re magical to me. Their markings. Patterns formed randomly– unreplicatable. And then layered around a found object. A sample of fine stitching so different from my own,
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Finally, because I do have commercial fabric that never makes it to my cloth, and because I really am geared, in a certain way, towards function–but really because I was gifted a Bernette (sp) that needed to be tried out–these have started to emerge…another use for cloth. Use full.

For Holding:

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