Bellefonte Museum Exhibit

I am so very pleased to announce that three of my pieces, as well as all 112 pieces from my Early Morning Club, will be exhibited at the Bellefonte Museum of Centre County. Curator Patricia House has put together an exciting exhibit entitled, A World of Stitches: Applique Art from Benin, Panama, and Pennsylvania. She has selected works from three other Pennsylvania-based artists as well as work from Panama and Benin to show cross-cultural differences (and similarities) in applique.

I invite everyone to attend this really interesting and remarkable exhibit. The opening reception is Sunday, September 27th from 1:00-4:30 p.m. and is free and open to the public. I can't wait to attend, meet the other artists, and see the other pieces in the show. The exhibit runs from September 27th through December 20th and the museum is open Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays from 1:00-4:30 p.m.

One of my pieces, Cash's Mountain, is a raw-edge applique landscape. It's hard to tell from the picture, but I quilted and faced the central landscape and then appliqued it to the brown/teal background so that is serves more as a frame and less as a border.


Fragment #4 is an improvisationally pieced quilt fragment that was quilted, finished and then appliqued to the background brown.


Plastic Grid consists of fifteen mini-quilts that finished and then appliqued to the grid background.

In addition to these three pieces, I have spent the last week attaching (appliquing?) all 112 Early Morning Club pieces to two lengths of fiberglass screening. Back when I was creating the Early Morning Club, I dreamed of having the opportunity to exhibit them as a cohesive whole, and am very excited to now have the chance.

Other works in the exhibit include:

Pennsylvania and environs appliqué artists,

• Bonnie Buckwalter, Bellefonte, Pennsylvania
• Aldeth Spence Christy, 1939- 2001, Maryland
• Kimberly Davis, State College, Pennsylvania
• Sue Reno, Columbia, (Lancaster), Pennsylvania

Panama, Kuna Indians appliqué work by several Kuna community members

Benin (West Africa), Brice Abraham Yemadje, textile artist, Fon Community


Here is the press release for the show:

“A World of Stitches: appliqué art from Benin, Panama and Pennsylvania” is a show of the particular craft of appliqué with examples from three very different cultures. The variety of design, motif and theme afford contrast while the basic craft demonstrates the universality of appliqué. The works in the exhibition are original creations by the artists and include images from the natural world, cultural themes and symbols from holidays and celebrations.

Appliqué needlework is an international craft; from American homes to tribal ceremonies, appliqué has been around a long time and continues to be popular. Remnants of clothing decorated with pieces of fabric to form designs have been found in the tombs of persons from ancient cultures. The technique has been used to create colorful flags for royalty throughout Europe and Africa. Appliqué designs on quilts and dance costumes were very popular in the Americas during the 18^th and 19^th Centuries. It is assumed that appliqué owes part of its origin to supply. When fabrics were all made by hand on simple looms or imported at great expense every scrap of material was valuable.

This exhibition includes examples of appliqué used to create decorative pieces and useful objects including coverlets, wall hangings, patches for quilt making, flags and clothing. Appliqué', which is a French term, is a type of decorative needlework that involves cutting pieces of one fabric and sewing or otherwise applying them to the surface of another. An image or design is obtained by superposing patches of colored material on a basic cloth.

In our country, women have been the appliqué artists and quilters but in other cultures men created the textiles and made the textile crafts. This continues to be true in Benin (West Africa), one of the three countries featured in this exhibition. In the Kuna culture of Panama women are the textile artists. Their designs are made using many layers of fabric.

The Kuna people live on the San Blas Islands off the northern coast of Panama. Kuna women make a unique kind of appliqué work called Molas. Images in the Molas are very detailed and depict every aspect of their lives. The fabric designs are done in bright colors on dark (usually red) background. Molas range in sizes but are usually made to fit on a shirt or dress bodice.

Works in this show by Brice Abraham Yemadie are done in rich colors using fabrics and sequins. These pieces demonstrate the appliqué tradition as it has evolved in Benin, West Africa. Y. Brice was born in Benin to a family of textile artisans whose roots go back to the Fon Kingdom of Dahomey (now Benin). The French artist Matisse admired this appliqué tradition and the influence can be seen in some of his works. Fon artists sold into slavery brought the appliqué tradition to the Americas.

By exhibiting examples from Benin (West Africa), Panama and our own community, we display contrasts and similarities and suggest possible origins of craftwork. Most importantly, the show demonstrates shared creativity of people from a wide variety of cultures and traditions. The exhibition curator is Patricia House.

Special appreciation is extended to Peggy Sloves and Maya Spence for lending art to the show and to the artists who loaned their works.

The exhibition is partially funded by the Pennsylvania Council on the Arts and the Borough of Bellefonte.

Accompanying programs will include craft classes for children and adults and on site activities for families visiting the show.

Early Morning Club Review

A year ago, I embarked on a four-month exploration (from July to November 2008) of early morning creativity. Each day I would awaken, drink a glass of water, and head to my studio where I would create and finish a 6" x 9" vertical quilt. Over the course of the sixteen weeks, I amassed 112 different compositions, but the personal lessons I learned about art, creativity, design, persistence, and improvisation were more valuable. My work in the Early Morning Club helped me define myself as an artist and begin to discover my vision and point-of-view.

Here are links to an overview and all sixteen weeks worth of pieces.

Overview
Week One
Week Two
Week Three
Week Four
Week Five
Week Six
Week Seven
Week Eight
Week Nine
Week Ten
Week Eleven
Week Twelve
Week Thirteen
Week Fourteen
Week Fifteen
Week Sixteen

Does size matter?

I'm in the process of designing another improvisational quilt. It's sitting on my design wall and I keep adding to it a little at a time. It's one of those pieces that I can't work on too much at once because after a while I lose my concentration. I need to be sharp and focused as I design it. And it's not something I can rush through.

Right now, it probably measures 16" wide by 20" long. This is mostly unpieced, so it will shrink up a bit as I work on it. Some subunits are pieced, but there are a lot of seams yet to be sewn.

This is about the size I normally work at--a small wallhanging. It's a manageable size. You can see it all in a glance. And it's not too challenging to quilt.

But this piece is talking to me. And it wants to be larger. It wants to be a long horizontal, so that your eyes have to sweep across it. I want to look at it and have to step back to take it all in. (I love that feeling at art museums, as you are walking along the gallery, taking in piece after piece, and then you come across one that makes you say "Woah" and step back.)

This is a bit challenging to me because I don't usually work large. And what I've done so far has taken a number of days. But I have a vision and so I'm going to try to go for it. If I were to finish it at this size , I would feel disappointed, like I gave up on it to soon. So I'll take the time it needs to become what it wants to be.

In this case, size does matter.

The Right Stuff

Where you grow up has a big influence on who you are. Growing up outside of Boston teaches you a few things. (And no, not just to talk with a funny accent.) You learn that Bostonians are fiercely loyal to their sports teams. And that Bostonians are fiercely proud of locals made good. And you learn that this loyalty and pride makes a big city feel like a small town.

Just like any small town, you find that you have connections to local celebrities. I know people who live next to Steven Tyler of Aerosmith. My brother used to shoot pool at the same bar as a bunch of New England Patriots. And I went to high school with people who dated the New Kids on the Block and their bodyguards.

I was a little bit old for the New Kids phenomenon. I was taking the SATs and prepping for college when the teenyboppers were “Hangin’ Tough.” But it was hard to escape them.They were local boys made good and they were everywhere. Songs on the radio, interviews on television, posters at the mall, and t-shirts on teenyboppers—wherever you looked you’d find Donnie, Joey, Jordan, Jonathan, and Danny staring back at you.

Joey was the most popular. He was the youngest, with a precious little baby face, so he was omnipresent. My friends and I started a contest (modeled after the punch buggy Volkswagen Beetle game) to see who could spot the most “Joeys.” We’d rack up tons of points just by walking through the mall.

Even though NKOTB wasn’t my group, it was definitely part of my culture. So when I saw that the New Kids would be in concert at the Jordan Center, I was amused, intrigued, and a bit wistful. Amused: because it brought back memories of high school. Intrigued: because I was wondering how these almost forty-something men could recreate a boy band. And wistful: because I figured no one would go see them with me.

But I was wrong. I mentioned the concert to Cynthia one day and she said “Sure. Let’s go.” I said, “Nah, I was only kidding.” But she grabbed the phone and we ordered tickets.

Fast forward two months. In the interim, my family and friends laughed at me (but that’s not really new) and told funny jokes. My husband called them “Grumpy Old Men on the Block” and wondered how they’d make it through the show without breaking a hip. My brother would call singing “Mmmmmm Bop” (wrong boy band) and then laugh and break into “The Right Stuff.”

On the morning of the concert, I started wondering what I had gotten myself into. But Cynthia convinced me it would be fun. We are always working together, so this was a chance to play.

The lights went down and then the boys rose up on a platform, grabbed the microphones, and started performing. While their singing and dancing was the same, close-ups on the big screen showed that the boys had now become men. Clips of their early videos found me almost overcome with nostalgia. Baby-faced Joey was dancing onscreen while a more mature Joey sang on stage. The juxtaposition was touching.

There were only a few cringeworthy moments. I felt embarrassed for Jordan when he stood on a platform, shirt unbuttoned, with a wind machine blowing at him. And I laughed out loud when Donnie shook his butt. But the show was good-humored and the boys (men?) seemed to understand what it was all about.

Towards the end of the concert, Donnie started talking about the reunion tour and how it wasn’t just a reunion for the band, but a reunion for the fans as well. They seemed to appreciate that—although twenty years had passed—their fans were still loyal.

In some ways, it was a disorienting couple of hours. It was like traveling backward and forward in time. In one moment, I’d be reminiscing about high school and in the next I’d be reading what Cynthia posted on facebook with her phone. I’d look to the video screen and see the young Boston boys dancing in the street and then look to the stage and see the older Boston men posing on stage. The comparisons would be enough to cause temporal whiplash.

But I’m grateful that I went. Life is made from these contradictions. I might be a thirty-something quilt shop owner in Central Pennsylvania, but part of me will always be a seventeen-year old high schooler from Boston.



(Read Cynthia's take on the concert here.)

February Ice in March

I started this quilt in the midst of February ice. The bare trees and grey skies lent an unexpected beauty to our Pennsylvania landscape. I wanted to capture the essence of mid-winter's shadows and ice. I selected a palette of silvery greys, soft blacks, snowy whites, and icy teals and began improvisational piecing. I made a couple of trees and other filler strips. Life intruded, as it often does, and my February ice quilt was left hanging, quite literally, on my design wall until today.

When I returned to my studio today I was unsure what to do. The icy inspiration that motivated me had melted away. My thoughts are turning away from snow and ice and towards the spring greens of new growth. But my personal resolution to reduce the numbers of UFOs I create was on my mind.

So I returned to my palette of February fabrics: I added and adjusted and created and deleted until I created a composition that reminded me of my inspiration. During my month of not sewing, I had forgotten how much fun it can be. It's smaller than I had intended (merely 9" x 18") but it is finished.

And now, unburdened by winter's chill, I can freely cast my mind to the apple greens and celadons of Spring.

On Living with Cats

Apologies to Robert Burns, but I've found that the best laid plans of mice and men are often derailed by a cat.

Yesterday morning I was awoken at 5:00 a.m. by my cat Max. He likes to wake me up by scratching at the closet door. No, he doesn't scratch them because we've locked him in the closet, but because he is wickedly efficient. Our closet doors are the hanging-sliding kind so they make lots of noise when scratched, thus ensuring that I am woken up. Usually this is no big deal because I just lock him downstairs with his food bowl and head back to sleep.

But I just wasn't able to fall back to sleep. After a bit of tossing and turning I got up to start my day. As I was reading email and surfing the internet, I realized that I had time to quilt before work at 10:00 a.m. Over the past couple months, I had fallen out of the early morning work habit, but Saturday was a great time to get back into it. Gee, thanks Max.

I brewed a cup of herbal tea and headed to my studio. Max followed because he likes to see what I'm working on. I've been quilting a throw quilt that stumped me, so it's sat on my machine while I figured out what to do. It's a row quilt: I just needed to quilt five more rows and the border. If I made a quick decision, then I had time to finish almost all the quilting before work.

It was a beautiful morning. There I was working in my studio before dawn, with a warm and comforting mug of tea, a soccer match playing on the television, and my kitty cat nearby for company. What could go wrong?

I finished the remaining five rows and had an hour left. I adjusted the quilt to begin stitching the borders and then Max jumped onto the table to my left. Usually when I sew, he spends his time near the patio doors watching for chipmunks and windblown leaves. But with the snow outside, there was little to see, so he wanted more attention.

I grabbed the cat bed from the corner and stuck it on the table, hoping that he would settle down nearby, but not in my way. But then, he spotted what I was doing. He immediately headed over and curled himself up in a cozy spot on my quilt. I knew I was defeated. I mean, look at what I was faced with.


You can see the stubbornness in his expression. What can you do against something like that?

I spent the rest of the morning organizing my crochet hooks.

While Robert Burns was a great poet, he obviously wasn't a cat owner.

New Year

Hiya! It's a good thing that one of my New Year's resolutions wasn't to blog regularly.

Actually, I don't "do" New Year's resolutions. Instead, I choose a theme that helps guide my choices and decision making over the course of the year. For example, last year my theme was Mindfulness and my goal was to become mindful of my thoughts, feelings, and actions. This year, my theme is Energy; that is finding a balanced and sustainable source for the physical, mental, emotional, and creative energy I need to achieve my personal goals.

I tend to use my energy like a cheetah--I either run flat out at 150 mph or I sit on the couch. When I'm productive, this tendency is great because I get lots accomplished. But, when I'm in couch mode, things pass me by until I have to get up and run again to get caught up.

While practicing mindfulness over the past year, I became more aware of this tendency and tried to moderate it. It worked for a while. I was particularly productive this past spring and summer, but at a sustainable pace. I got a lot done, without working too hard or resting too much. But, when life got busier in the fall, I fell into my old cheetah habit of doing too much and ended the year as a couch slug.

So, over the course of the year,I want to reestablish old habits and create new ones to enhance my personal energy. I also want to learn to practice moderation, rather than falling into the habit of overdoing or underdoing. To these ends, I have identified four areas of focus:

1. Physical energy: eat fresh, unprocessed foods, exercise regularly, and make sure I get plenty of sleep.
2. Emotional energy: journal daily, make sure to spend time with family and friends.
3. Mental energy: maintain an updated calendar, keep an ongoing task list, establish a notecard system for goals.
4. Creative energy: reorganize studio, build design wall, and finish UFOs.
   

My goals for creative energy are finite (once I have reorganized my studio then that task is done), while my goals for physical, emotional, and mental energy are ongoing (more like habits to establish than tasks to check off a list.) That is intentional. After working on the Early Morning Club last year, I realized that I need to create better physical and mental space for creativity. So my goals here are to clear the decks, so to speak, and then dive into new work. At that point, I will look at my creative goals and determine what habits I want to establish.

I'm excited about this year. My cheetah tendency has been with me a long time. Even my second-grade teacher commented on my report card about my tendency to race through tasks to finish quickly. But the moderation I practiced over the past year taught me that it is possible to change. I'll let you know how it goes.