I made this week’s deadline for getting my artwork created, prepped, photographed and delivered to The Arts Council of Moore County’s gallery.  I’m participating in this exhibit along with 3 other talented women. The exhibit opens on Friday, November 3, 2023.

I’ve learned a lot about myself over the past 2 years since I agreed to participate in this event. There was lots of mental planning, distractions and procrastination. I always think I have time, until I don’t. It will be interesting to see how my artwork is received. I’ve experimented with some ideas and definitely worked smaller than I usually do.

Entering one artwork into an exhibit is a different process from doing a solo or group show where you’re expected to produce many pieces to fill the gallery walls. To be honest, a concern is whether it will pay off…financially. There is a lot of money invested in producing artwork. Not everyone enters an exhibit opportunity to sell their art, but a good majority do.

I decided many years ago that I wanted to sell my art, because I didn’t have room to keep it. I also had given enough away to family and friends that they reached a saturation point. I had choices: 1) stop making so much or 2) sell it so I had room to make more. I decided to sell. There are a few pieces I wish I still had, but for the most part I cut the cord on ownership when I sell the art. Like most artists I know, I’m not getting financially wealthy selling my art … very few have that luxury. I am, however, receiving heartfelt wealth. This type of wealth is never monetized in a bank account, only felt in our soul. When you purchase original art you provide the artist with a sense of pride and joy knowing you liked their work enough to own it.

I am one week away from the opening of the “Mélange of Experience” exhibit opening at Arts Council of Moore County’s galleries at Campbell House. This exhibit is a group show with several other local artists. I will be bringing 18 new pieces to the gallery next week. Exciting!

Mélange means a mixture, or group of different things or people. We decided on the the title because of the diverse styles among the four of us exhibiting, but also because of the experience we all have within our art form. When I was creating these 18 new pieces, I embraced the title. I wanted to experiment with some ideas/themes, but nothing in my experimentation was a new technique per se. I have a long, diverse history with creative arts and it was inspiring to follow a whim. I like that the title we chose gave me permission to play.

There is a lot going through my mind. I’m trying to stay grounded and present. Yet, I do realize when I start whirling out of bounds. When I do, I know it is a signal that I need to step back. What is important to me? What is important for my brain energy? What do I have control over?

We’re in trying times. It sometimes is challenging not to feel anxiety. It is possible to isolate ourselves from things outside our bubble, but I like to keep aware and check in. I realize I don’t have control over most things. So after checking the morning news, I’ve been climbing the steps to my converted bedroom studio space. Making art keeps me in the moment and I’m in control of what I’m making.

Last night I took time to draw mandalas. A mandala is a symmetrically balanced circle containing shapes and colors. A mandala represents the spiritual journey starting from the outside to the inner core. Creating them can be a part of a meditation practice. Although my intent is to use these for a project I’m working on, I find them helpful right now. Mandalas signify the universe in its ideal form and can represent the transformation of a universe of suffering into one of joy.

I’m hope the later is true, because the world could use some mercy now.

I’m in the final stage of preparation for an art exhibit locally at the Arts Council of Moore County’s Campbell House Galleries. I was invited to participate in this exhibit with 3 other very talented women who live in the area. There will be an acrylic/collage painter, a stained glass artist, a potter and me, a textile artist.

I’ve participated in exhibits here before, each time with a different collection of artists. I’m excited about sharing the gallery space with these ladies, because I believe our artistry will compliment each other. We’re each working independently, so its always a surprise when we bring our artwork together for an exhibit.

Last month, I was in final prep of the pieces and this month I’m focusing on the prep for displaying the work. Everything needs to be ready to hang. This means, hanging sleeves and rods for larger quilts, and framing for smaller textile pieces. This time I’m working smaller than usual, so I am spending more time prepping the canvases and framing. I have to say, I kind of like doing this part of my art.

The photos above represent what I’ve been working on, but it also reminds me of all the life experiences that helped get me here. Its not just about me finding my artist voice, it is also about all the other’s who where there along the way. When I look at these images, I remember my grandmother’s who, when I was a child, inspired me with their lovely handmade gifts. I remember my mom for teaching me to sew when I was ten. And, it is also my dad when I was a kid teaching me how to paint and use tools around the house. They’re all gone on to another world, but they each live on within my creations.

Goodbye September. Here in the southeastern United States, we are heading into fall. The humidity is gone (YES!!) and the days are much cooler. When I was a kid, I remember wanted so badly to be a grown-up person. I remember life feeling like it just dragged itself through to the next day. Many decades later, I am here now and respecting how fast it all has gone by.

Changing of seasons is one of those yearly milestones that makes me stop and think about the journey. This is especially true when we enter fall. In a flash, I know it will be the new year.

Grounding is a good way to return back to center; focus on what is here now. I am grateful for all that I have, where I am, and the journey that got me here. However, there are so many things I am still eager to accomplish.  I’m returning to my mantra of “one foot, then another.” This is the only way to move forward; one step at a time.

As I transfer into the next season, I’ll take the time to reflect, yet respect that there’s always time…until there isn’t any left.

 

I am in the last 4 weeks of preparing for an art exhibit. I’m showing with 4 very different style of artists. I’m the only textile artist. I’ve planned things so October would be less about creating and more about getting everything ready to hang. Some things need to be framed, some mounted on stretched canvas, and some need the traditional quilt sleeve and hanging rod. I feel good about my timing of things, but there is still a lot to do. As they say, “slow and steady wins the race.”

That’s life sometimes, isn’t it? You just have to continue showing up and do what you can. Last year seemed pretty slow for me, but this year I’m constantly surprised when I get a notice that something I did months ago is finally ready for sharing.

One of those things is the book “Stitched Journeys with Birds” by Martha Sielman. I don’t remember exactly when I sent her pictures of my artwork to consider for the book. But, I do remember she accepted my contributions and promised to include them.

Now to be truthful, I didn’t really know what kind of book she envisioned. All I knew was it was about birds and I wanted to be a part of it. Holy moly! When I received the book this week, I was more than proud to be a part of this beautiful publication. This book is partly arranged like a bird identification book with all the images of similar species grouped together. The “birder” in me is greatly impressed.

It is also a marvelous book about art quilts, featuring stories of some of the premier art quilters of our times. As a book lover, I also just want to touch it. The paper quality reminds me of a fine, old-time coffee table book. The paper and book cover feels so lovely, I keep finding myself petting it. I’m a lucky artist to be included in this book and it reminds me to just keep trying. Good things will come.

“Art doesnt get made on the clock.
But it can get finished on the clock.” ~ Rick Rubin

I’ve been watching the clock a lot lately. Slowly checking off all the things that I’ve piled upon myself. My anxiety was fierce early on. Yet, as I tick things off the list, I feel more confident that I’m capable of doing all that I committed to.

Rick Rubin’s quote hits home. If it wasn’t for deadlines, I don’t think I would have accomplished as much as I have.

I’ve decided deadlines are good things. They help prioritize to-do lists and can force me to say “Sorry, no, I can’t do that.” Sometimes you have to prioritize yourself. Saying “no” isn’t easy. Will I disappoint someone? Or, will I have to deal with the fear of missing out (fomo)? Am I going to regret the decision, later?

I’ve said no to quite a number of things this month that I really wanted to do. Some were once-in-a-lifetime opportunities that gave me pause. But, I gave every decision time and I’m OK with it. I have to be. That’s really all we can do; decide, be OK with it, then move on, because the clock’s still ticking.

 

 

 

I’m currently preparing for an exhibit at the Arts Council of Moore County that will open in November. I will be exhibiting with 3 other woman who are all very diverse in what they do. There’s a collage/painter, a potter, a stained glass artist and me, with textile art. Knowing the ladies I am exhibiting with, I know this is going to be a color-filled exhibit.

As I’m busy creating, I’ve noted that thread painting (aka free-motion machine embroidery) is still one of my favorite things to do in my textile art. As I’m adding the stitches with my sewing machine, I find myself drifting into a flow-state. Flow is a mindset when outside distractions fade from consciousness. When you’re in flow, your mind is fully engaged and tuned to the task at hand. You have very little self-awareness or critical self-judgement, you’re 100% into the task. Flow is a very meditative and peaceful state.

As I work on my thread painting, I’m in-tune with my sewing machine. The stitching is so intrinsic, that my body movements go into auto-pilot mode and my brain is focused. I’m not thinking about cleaning the house, going to the grocery store, or walking the dogs. I am 100% in the act of stitching. Eventually, my brain will kick me out of this thought pattern. That’s when I realize, I’ve been at it a while and should probably get out of my seated position, walk around a little bit, and maybe get something to eat.

Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi is known as “the father of flow” after he conceived the flow theory and associated it with methods of finding happiness. I agree with his theories, because flow brings an internal sense of happiness and comfort. And, I believe it is partly what we seek when we create.

 

 

Join me and 17 other
creative instructors for
Global Quilt Connections Sampler Platter
September 23 & 23, 2023

Learn more and sign up here: https://www.globalquiltconnection.com/samplerplatters

 

Several years ago, I was dyeing scarves and over-dyeing garments. I stepped side-ways for awhile to work with applique designs designs in my art quilts. My brain is now pulling back toward other possibilities using different fiber techniques in my art quilts. I have an idea of how to use wool felting in my designs, as well as use of shibori dyeing techniques. Opportunities are endless.

What’s intriguing and somewhat frustrating is when trying new things they don’t go as planned. I try to look at those times as learning opportunities. Over the weekend, I spent a couple days working with indigo dye. I had wonderful success the first day. An indigo vat (dye pot) is reactive to light and oxygen, which gives it a limited life-span. Some vats can last a few days. Mine, unfortunately, did not.

The second day when I tried dyeing the last teensy bit I needed to complete, the dye was no longer active. I didn’t want to create an entirely new vat for an hour dye session, so I went to a back-up plan. I pulled out some blue Rit dye and created a vat of that. Bottled dyes don’t work the same as indigo, light and oxygen shouldn’t affect them. Everything seemed to be working ok. I hung the fabric out in the sun to dry (see photo) and everything had the blue tint I expected. Then I washed everything in mild detergent in the washer to remove any excess dye. To my surprise these last few fabric pieces came out of the wash a very pale lavender color. I have no idea what went wrong. However, no matter what the outcome, it is ok.

Except for a handful of pieces, my dye sessions this weekend produced designs that have me inspired. The first day was a success and the second day was a learning opportunity. Now, I’m visualizing the possibilities and ready to step outside the box.

I’m happy to say my sewing machine is back at home. The inspector tells me everything looks good. I’m also happy to say that the machine didn’t need a new motor after all. The technician checked with Janome who suggested resetting the machine’s computer and replacing a fuse. So far so good (and finger’s crossed). September is going to be a full month for me, so I’m glad this worry is off my plate.

In a way, I liked sewing with the vintage Viking machine, but I did have some serious muscle memory frustrations. I’ve had my Janome MC6500 for 19 years. I completed many a projects with it. I learned how to quilt and thread paint using it. I’ve had it so long that I don’t even think about which buttons to push when I’m sewing. One button automatically brings the needle up; another one cuts the thread. My mind and body are well trained on which button to push, and when.

My ability to sew these past couple weeks where challenging, because  I was forced to use a 50 year old machine that didn’t have these fancy computerized controls. If I wanted the needle up, I had to turn the handwheel. And, if I wanted to cut the thread, I had to find the scissors to do it. I felt klutzy. It reminded me of first learning all the things I know about quilting and thread painting. The more practice I had the more proficient I was at these skills. I didn’t recall how challenging it was when I first learned these skills. I was reminded this past month, when I was forced to do without and learn a new (old) way.

I was reminded that when I’m learning something new, I can easily get frustrated with the process. However, I realized today that it isn’t the process that is frustrating me. My angst is caused by my lack of experience.