Whenever I seriously think about letting go of the blog I get a comment gift like the beautiful, and beautifully written, message from Mandi on this post. She wrote:
Sustainable is great, but to me the greatest joy in slow cloth is the deep involvement and passion for each step of the process. This is something that was lacking in my own work for a long time, and something that I don't see on the myriad of blogs I read. I was starting even to feel that I could never keep up with those energizer bunnies of creative sewing endeavors!
But after reading your statement on slow cloth I have realized that is why I feel so burned out! I was burned from trying to make so much so fast....to keep going and going like everyone else! It's overwhelming and uninspiring to say the least.
But today I cooked up a batch of rice paste resist and I will spend time carefully stenciling with it, instead of quickly silkscreening the same image, and I will take joy in the process of cutting more stencils and carefully working through each step in the layers of application. And I will know that for me and maybe for a few others it's enough to spend that time and care to create a few projects this year instead of a few each day or week.
That'll keep me going for a while. Thank you, Mandi. It's also a reminder to stay focused on topic. I will write again about the Significant Objects project next week - it was part of what I deleted yesterday but it'll return.
Over at Designboom.com, take a look at the paintings of Brazilian artist Delson Uchoa. I thought there was something very textile-ish about them, and indeed, the site says, " they are structured around formal principles that are a legacy of the constructivist-concrete tradition, incorporating motifs and techniques
taken from folk decoration, lace, embroidery and weaves that result in optical effects and fields." I think these layered, collaged works probably must be seen to be fully appreciated, but at least we can get a taste.
A bad side effect of the new job is that I seem to be gaining weight at an alarming rate. The sense that "nothing fits anymore" isn't just about my clothes; life also feels that way in general. Most of my space--car, apartment, location, wardrobe, the things that become an identity --was chosen or arrived because of life circumstances that have changed. Nothing fits anymore; it all certainly doesn't fit the global textile explorer/artist/thinker who inhabits and creates this blog. So I'm doing a lot of re-evaluating, trying to figure out what I need to stay healthy and be comfortable in my own skin. Last night I dreamed that I missed a design meeting because I had gone to talk to people from an old job; then I rushed home to change and none of my clothes fit! It's always funny when dreams are as literal as that. Yes, I'd like to be "bigger" than I am, but not literally, please, universe--can you hear me now?
Maybe Tuesday's big ol' new moon/solar eclipse that has all the astrologers buzzing will help. Until then, onward.