Diane sent me this photo of my fabric painting “What Are you Wondering” hanging in its new home. It’s in good company in Diane’s office with her drawings of a parrot that she imagined.
“What Are You Wondering” In Its New Home
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What Are You Wondering? Sold
Dahn, one of the women that I traveled to India with a couple of years ago, told me I had a childlike sense of wonder.
I remember when she said it.
We were in Bolpur and I was looking at a huge hand woven covered basket used to store grain. I had never seen anything like it and I wanted to know more. How it was made, how long had the people in this village been creating and using such containers.
But my interest wasn’t only intellectual. When I looked at the giant covered basket, I felt a sense of awe yet it was also somehow familiar. A wave of nostalgia hit me, like it was something I had once known.
At another point in my life I would have taken Dahn’s words as an insult.
Growing up I was taught that “curiosity killed the cat.” For some reason to be curious or questioning was seen as a feminine attribute, which was inherently inferior and weak minded.
So I learned to suppress my sense of wonder.
But suppressing my curious mind and heart created a longing in me that was unfulfillable. Not being able to express all that I witnessed dulled my eyes, so I forgot how to see.
I had some friends along the way who understood and appreciated my wonder. Some moments of stepping though the doorway into who I really was and being able to transform my experience of the wonders I encountered, into something tangible that was satisfying to me.
But mostly, I was quiet.
That changed when I met Jon and witnessed his curiosity. I had finally met someone who wasn’t afraid to admit he didn’t know something. Someone who believed that smart, creative and interesting people were naturally curious.
Jon not only accepted, but delighted in my sense of wonder about the world around me.
Now I live in that space on the other side of the doorway. I not only allow, but depend on my curiosity to keep me wondering, to keep my eyes wide open to see what’s in front of them. Now, through my art and my blog, I have a way of expressing what I see and feel and of being fulfilled by it.
My new fabric painting “What Do You Wonder” is about embracing, honoring and acting on our sense of wonder.
It’s a reminder to see and be curious about the tiniest, most insignificant seeming thing that’s right in front of us. As Socrates (the philosopher not the snail) said, “Wisdom beings in Wonder.”
“What Are You Wondering?” is 19 1/2x 20 1/2″ and is Sold. $175 + $10 shipping. It’s for sale in my Etsy Shop, or you can email me at [email protected].
You can read more about my process making “What Are You Wondering” here.
What Are You Wondering, Almost Done
I spent the whole day working on my fabric painting today. I meant to spend the afternoon finishing up the Thinking of Spring Potholders I started last week, but I got so caught up in the fabric painting, I couldn’t stop.
It took me a little while to get started this morning. But once I made the blue and while grid, the rest came easy, one thing leading to another.
I’m loving the technique of stitching over the top fabric then cutting it away. I know I’ll use it again.
Right now I feel like it might be done, but I’ll look at it in the morning and know for sure.
The snaps, broken buttons, pins and hooks all came from my button box.
When I washed the buttons a few weeks ago, I pulled out all the small metal pieces thinking I’d just throw them away. But, of course, once I saw them all tougher they were too intriguing to get rid of.
I wasn’t sure if they belonged on this piece when I first place them in the white squares, but I also couldn’t stop myself from sewing them down with silver thread.
I decided to trust that instinct, even if I didn’t quite understand it.
What Are You Wondering…..Cont.
I knew I was going to be working on my latest fabric painting this morning. I had no idea what I would do, till I spent some time with it and then began to see it clearly
This is what I’ve done this morning so far….
“What Are You Wondering?”, Tiny Stones and The Waxing Moon
Slowly, everyday, this small fabric painting is making itself known to me.
Today I sewed tiny pieces of stone beads on either side of the stream of tears. I clearly saw that they were supposed to be there early this morning.
Then I sat on my chair in the corner of my studio and looked at the fabric painting till the simplicity of the shape at the center of it made me think of Tantric art.
Tantric art is a very simple and beautiful painting that was meant to be used to meditate on. So I got my book Tantra Song off my shelf and began leafing though it.
I had stitched the eye, sun rays and stream of tears on a piece of of- white linen. Then I covered the linen, surrounding the image, with indigo fabric.
For some reason, looking at the images in Tantra Song gave me the idea that I could cut shapes in the indigo fabric to reveal the off-white linen beneath it.
When I looked up from my book to the fabric painting, I saw the moon in the upper right hand corner.
So I stitched a circle then cut out the indigo fabric and sewed on a piece of black cotton fabric to create a waxing crescent moon.
I left it there for the night, knowing I will use this technique again, but not wanting to rust it, wanting to give the idea some space.
What Are You Wondering?
Little beads, like tear drops on the stream flowing from the eye and rays of the sun, like giant eyelashes reaching up from the top of it.
This is already more than I saw on waking yesterday morning.
I have a feeling about what I’ll do next, but I can’t quite see it. It’s like trying to remember a word “that’s on the tip of your tongue.”
It’s just out of reach. I can feel it, I just can’t see it yet.
I did remember that along with waking up with the image in my mind, the question “What are you wondering?” followed it.
I’m thinking it might be the title of this piece.
Wandering Wondering…..
It was Jane’s email to me that got me thinking that I want to loosen up. And this is my first attempt at doing that. Jane actually wanted to buy my practice pieces. The ones I did when I first got my sewing machine. She saw the photo of one of them I posted and said it made her think of the line drawings Picasso did later in his life. I remember reading that Picasso said that to be a good artist you need to forget everything you’ve learned about making art. He likened it to be a child.
At this point I have such a set way of making my streaming pieces, they’ve become boring to make. So I tried to make this piece with the same head that I’d have if I were just practicing. Trying to loosen up, get away from what has become a formula for me. And in a way, I am still practicing. I haven’t quite gotten the feel for my new foot pedal and the speed of the sewing machine. But sometimes, just by the nature of it, being a bit out of control, it forces me to loosen up.
I can almost track my “loosening up” progress in this piece. I started with the table with the lamp on it and ended with the cat and hen walking along the edge of the right side. The only words, Wandering Wondering who Sleeps my Dream, don’t even make sense to me. But there they were so I let them be. When I was done with the images in a light pink thread, I started with the blue. I wasn’t sure how it would work, but as I started to fill in the spaces with squiggles of blue, I saw that it really made the images pop and I liked it.
So here it is, the first of its kind. Now I’m psyched to try another……
Wandering Wondering who Sleeps my Dream is a wall hanging and is Sold. for sale. End to end it’s 23″x24″ and is $95 + $10 shipping (in the US, shipping to Canada is $15). If you’re interested in it, just email me here or at [email protected].
Asher Inquisitive and Gentle
The pictures of my animals that I like the best and work hard to get are the ones that show their personalities.
I can remember when I got my first three sheep, Suzy, Socks and Tess, and wondering if they were all different from each other.
After living with them and the other animals on the farm and reading about wildlife, it seems naive for me to have ever thought they would all be the same.
I learned this from the fish in the tank we had for years too.
When I made the effort to really look at them, I could see how the shape and size of their fins differed. And I now know that what we see is not necessarily what other fish see. So their marking may be much more varied than us humans are privy to.
I still have a hard time telling our own hens Kitty and Anne apart. But I do know that one of them always picks up her food and carries it away to eat by herself. It’s even hard for me to tell which hen is White Hen when they are all together. I have to look at her feet which is the only part of her that looks old to me.
When I took this picture of Asher I could see his personality in it.
To me he looks kind, inquisitive and gentle. And I see something else, that I don’t usually think of when considering the twins. He looks grounded and thoughtful.
I have to remind myself that Asher and Issachar are not the long legged teen-agers they were when we first got them. I often see them breaking up the other sheep when they are head butting and putting the younger sheep in their place.
The twins are my largest sheep. They come up to my waist and could easily knock me down in the rush to get to the hay. They may try to pull a mouthful of hay from my arms, but they never push me.
They are really very well behaved for bottle raised wethers. And grow good-natured the older they get.
The Hawk In The Freezer
When they didn’t get back to me I called the DEC again this morning. I spoke to some very helpful people who transferred me until I got to the person who could help.
“If it weren’t so warm,” Beth said, “you could just leave it outside. But with this weather, if you can double bag the body and put it in a freezer we can pick it up early next week.”
So that’s what I did.
I made room in the freezer, wrapped the hawks body in two plastic bags and duct taped it shut.
Then I went into Jon’s study where he was writing and told him that the hawk was in the freezer in case he went in there and was wondering what was in the big black plastic bag.
He was amused by the thought of a dead hawk in the freezer. Which was a good thing really.
Ever since I worked at an Animal Hospital when I was in my early twenties, the idea of dead animals in a freezer just seems like what you’d do with a body you wanted to hold onto for a while.
It feels good, like the most I could do, for the owl and the hawk, to maybe find out what killed them. That it might help somehow.
Perhaps that’s naive of me. But being able to do something, makes me feel a bit better. And who knows how the hawks body might help, perhaps it will be a small part of a larger research.
I believe the owl was a Barred Owl and I think the Hawk was a Coopers Hawk.
Shearing Sheep Last Night
Although Ian arrived while it was still light out, it was soon too dark to see without the lights I hung in the pole barn that afternoon.
There were only four sheep to shear, Constance, Lori, Robin and Merricat so it went quick and easy. Except for Constance who gave Ian a hard time, but then she always does.
Some people are wondering about shearing the sheep this time of year. It may seem cold to us humans, but sheep only need about a half inch of wool to keep them warm in the coldest weather. They will have gown that back in a week.
The most important thing is that they have shelter, like the pole barn where they can get out of the wind.
The days are still warm here, in the fifties this week. And the coldest night we’ve had so far was 25 degrees. These temperatures are not considered cold for the sheep. And if they do get cold, they huddle together to keep warm.
It is worse for the sheep to be carrying around a years worth of wool come the spring than to be shorn twice a year.
The rest of the sheep’s wool doesn’t grow as quickly as these four young Romneys. So I only shear them once a year in the spring.
Ian did a great job as always. He’s easy with the sheep even when they give him a hard time. He talked to Lori when she got a little restless, cooing her name and she settled down. And although he doesn’t shear sheep full time anymore, he seemed more relaxed and easy going than I’d ever seen him.
When he was done and the wool tucked in plastic bags in the barn, we had Squash soup and bread for dinner. We talked about the creative life as we always do with Ian. Before he left, he read us his latest poem.
