Let’s eat

for golden-haired maidens

I’ve taken quite a liking to embroidering perishable materials.

Orange skin studies. Embroidered while "fresh", photographed after dried. J.S-P

I’ve done some other stitching with plants, but haven’t photographed them yet. Since the material base is something that changes quickly (just the plant drying out alters the stitch), how and when they are photographed becomes important. There is a developing relationship here — in line with my creativity linked to the mediums — that I’ve never really experienced before. More on that soon. In the mean time, here’s an updated (and poorly photographed) version of my first sampler:

Sampler (parting sea), 2012. In progress. J.S-P

Mira and I try to meet at least once a week to embroider together, and it looks like our friend Kelli will be joining us soon, whenever she can. I took a few pictures of Mira’s unfinished work the last time I was at her house. The fabrics themselves are so lovely, it makes me want to look at antique stores and junk shops for old aprons, slips, and handkerchiefs.

I’m meeting with Kelli on Tuesday to show her a few stitches that I’ve learned. In the future, I’m going to demand that she teach me how to knit in exchange for my “guidance”. (I hope you’re reading this, Kelli.) More images can be found here.

follow it down

I’ve been doing quite a bit of embroidery and I am planning to start making things to sell soon. (“Soon” = probably not for a few months.) I could use the money and I enjoy embroidery quite a lot. It’s very pleasing to sit for hours stitching. If you don’t believe me, behold below the internet-sourced collection of embroidery I have scoured in a few obsessive fits.

Thanks to an article posted to ArtInfo about the Whitney Biennial, I found out about Elaine Reichek‘s work. The writer in me (“writer” + “me” = verbose, self-important, insatiable) really appreciates her use of quotes from friends, family, and literature. I also really like the cultural anthropological feel to her work, that is both intellectually and visually stimulating.

Detail of "Sampler (Scarlet Letter)", 1996. Hand embroidery on linen. Elaine Reichek.

Mr. X Stitch’s blog is a bit overwhelming for me. In a lot of ways. Here’s a bit of a sampler (oh yeah, embroidery pun): The Cutting (& Stitching) Edge. Really, I can’t even pick one image. There are so many talented artists posted to this blog. Embroidery as Art is another great embroidery blog, especially as an approachable and inspiring introduction to embroidery.

Mira directed me toward Kate Kretz and Erin Endicott’s embroidery. I had been thinking about hair embroidery because of how all my life I’ve been very interested in hair, to the extent that I collect hair in jars. (Although, for the record, no pubic hair.) And then I got the link to the hair embroidery of Kretz and it made me all the more excited to try it out sometime.

Oubliette 1 (detail), 2006. Human hair embroidery. Kate Kretz.

Healing Sutra #3. Hand embroidery on antique fabric stained with walnut ink cut to pattern of child's dress. Erin Endicott.

Husband found an article on Huffington Post about Kathy Halper’s work, which has a sense of humor and ugliness about its content that I can appreciate.  She uses images from Facebook that teenagers post of themselves, and it’s paired with text that heightens the kind of grotesque absurdity of the images. They’re not very visceral, though. Mostly outlines. At first this turned me off a bit, but considering the subject, it seems really appropriate. Most of the images include teenagers engaging some kind of sexual, pseudo-sexual, or intensely physical activity, implying a kind of hedonism, and yet there’s nothing truly sensual about what they’re doing. The images and the text are generic, belonging to anyone and no one.

Girl just have to accept. Kathy Halper.

I love the way Joetta Maue creates a kind of sentimentality that feels sincere yet lacks presumption. Admittedly, sometimes it goes a little too far for me, but that’s okay. My favourite pieces of Maue’s use a variety of fabrics, creating an odd sense of texture and space. But who doesn’t like embroidered handwriting? Only robots. Poorly programmed robots. So there’s quite a number of charming pieces on her website.

8 months, 2011. Hand embroidered, appliqued, and painted re-appropriated linen with found cloth. Joetta Maue.

There’s more, but I feel like I should stop now… until tomorrow.

something to do with my hands

I’ve begun learning how to embroider.

Lately I haven’t been feeling well, so I needed something to do while resting. And while not sleeping at night. For the time being, it’s mostly experimentation and practice. I like that I have to sit with a line for a while, yet it feels loose and unassuming. Writing and drawing has been too intimidating lately. It has to mean too much, and I just can’t deal with that right now. Stitching. Stitching feels appropriate.

new studio

A friend of mine is generously allowing me to use a room in her home as my studio. When husband and I originally moved into our apartment, we both thought the living room and bedroom would be large enough for me to fit work spaces into, but the spaces always felt like they were battling for a clear purpose. While I will still have a small area at home to work in, it will be less overwhelmingly cluttered and used only for small scale projects. For a couple months now I have felt that my paintings and drawings needed to be larger, so actually having a space to find out what exactly that entails is really exciting.

The room was a boy’s room. The walls were bright blue, the way you imagine the sky is blue as a kid, and then later realize it isn’t that kind of blue at all. I inherited a small wooden desk with missing drawer handles and a pale blue-green dresser with paint charmingly chipped off and worn down. There are also scattered pins, pennies, pencils, and paint brushes. Oh, and two mirrors placed in such a way that I can see myself before I open the closet door, then immediately afterward as I step into the closet.

I like the history of spaces, real and imagined. Once, ballroom turned hospital turned theatre turned yoga studio. Then home turned hospital turned home turned dining room. I don’t know the history of Mira’s house, but I do know a boy used to have this room. I changed the blue walls to white and dark red. The ceiling still glows with stars and moons when I turn the lights off, and I enjoy that about it. It reminds me that I am just borrowing this space.

nude cat girl

That was one of my top searches leading to this blog the other day. I’m glad that the Internetz recognizes the true nature of my blog. Or my existence, really.

happy birthday

I think he would be 38 today.

I like the shore better in winter. We’ll draw lilies in the sand if we can’t find any, and we’ll pretend some are orange with flecks of red. I won’t drink another pale ale tonight, though, even if it says its name is Phoenix.

 

it’s not enough to burn down the houses

 

lost in translation

tumble me tuna

 

 

I don’t know the origin of these images. Like many things posted to Tumblr, they weren’t credited. Sorry.