Angino Farm, Newton, Mass.
Come join me next week at the New Art Center, Newton, MA — ILLUSTRATION QUILTS, 6 Weds., 10/30 to 12/11 (no class 11/27), 6:30 – 9:30 p.m. You can register online at New Art Center’s website. Take a peek at some ideas / approaches to fiber art in my flickr set “Quilts & More“.
Six weeks is enough time to start and finish a small wall hanging. Hand and machine quilting will be explored, as well as several techniques for attaching pieces of fabric to each other and to a base. No experience necessary.
Always, the unconscious is present, making this or that comment in our days, usually quite a bit ahead of our awareness. That’s part of the mystery, the fun, and the intrigue of making art.
But this picture made me wonder if there weren’t ways to build in a practice of less-conscious captures?
I mean something more than accepting that scrap of fabric that fell from somewhere and landed on a quilt, begging for inclusion. And I mean more than embracing a wicked mistake and owning it as part of a now-changed design.
I mean consciously building in a more random catalog. Anybody have any ideas about how to do this? Does anyone do this already (that they know of)? I’d love to hear.
The umbrella picture struck me because I shot it after composing a series of careful studies of the unfurling, magnificent hosta that line our sidewalk. I composed the way I usually do and had some thread of text forming in my head (something about the glory of spring and the changing tides of opinion — in this case regarding hosta — a pedestrian plant that I used to dislike, but now appreciate for its reliability and willingness to endure all kinds of stress — from rabbit-dining to cold shocks, mashing, and even clips by the lawn mower). As an afterthought, I snapped this dappled light and wet umbrella on my way in the door.
I liked this picture so much more than any of the careful shots, that I had to wonder what else I am missing by pointing my lens in predictable directions. The rake with its signs of recent bed-clearing, the umbrella still wet with a spring rain, and most of all, the dappled light… these elements collectively said “SPRING” better than my careful compositions. What ELSE am I missing by pointing my lens in ‘pretty’ directions? By deciding in advance what constitutes an image of something, in this case — spring?
And speaking of spring, here are some more shots of my neighborhood and front yard.
On the route where these pictures were taken I found a lovely hole-ridden grey piece of something – I don’t want to gross anyone out, but it is probably a piece of Kleenex.
More on that tomorrow! But here is a sneak peek:
After a touring colleges in two cities, flying through two additional cities because of missed connecting flights. After watching hour after mind-numbing hour of CNN. After learning that our bags were elsewhere. We were happy to drive home to Newton. Even if the shit was still hitting the fan one town over. Even if our town was under a ‘shelter-in-place’ order. Even if the house reeked of dog when we walked in. Even if the news continues to startle and shock. We are home.
A blur of days with some mulching/planting/weeding and some cutting of purse fabrics and some errands. I named one cloth “Joplin” and will show tomorrow (along with proper photo of chair?). Found a blue fish today and drew a green chair this evening. Posting on phone encourages brevity. Must go prowl for a new novel to read!
Just a quick post or two in the next couple of days… I will be gardening like fury from now until Labor Day (well, as much as a 52 yr. old with a tender back who is heat-intolerant CAN garden like fury!), so posts will be scattered and few.
Went to Angino Farm yesterday to pick up my share and summer’s bounty was upon us. Even though the tomatoes have been blighted, I literally embraced lush abundance with my three full bags of vegetables and herbs. Does it take a tangible armload for me to feel grateful these days? Perhaps. I’m working on that….
Little white butterflies were flitting through the lavender, making a beautiful dance.
This shot was taken in the Children’s Garden. Who among us can resist sunflowers? I have some in my front yard every year.
I’m a little tired of eating kale, but look at the incredible texture of its leaves!