Thoughts on a Year on the Midnight Clear

Warning: Long and rambling post. I know I keep talking about more frequent short posts, and I'm trying to get there, really!

Has this been a really strange month for everyone, or just me? Maybe I should say strange year, and I can't believe it's almost over. I  have twelve days off for the holidays, and I really need it to regroup and reconsider all that's happened this year, and my intentions for next year.

I'm at a stitching standstill. I can't seem to get moving on anything. It's partly that I'm so immersed at work with a particular side of the craft world; it's sucking up a lot of my textile energy. In the words of the most famous six-word autobiography, this year was not quite what I was planning. Remember last year? When I was all gung-ho about graduate school in cultural studies so I could create the job of textile anthropologist/global explorer/artist/author/sustainability expert/philosopher? Then the recession happened and I had to find a more stable income with health insurance. Then I spent the first few months of 2009 negotiating about the Washington job, spent a month there (yay museums) and ultimately decided not to take it, possibly my stupidest mistake biggest learning experience in a year full of 'em.

And now suddenly I've logged seven months in a different job, making ends meet, and many of the things that matter in my life are sitting in the way-back of the bus, and I can hear them clamoring for attention. I'm so grateful for the stability the job has given me, but also frustrated that opportunities came up that I could not fully embrace because I didn't have much flexibility. So I'm glad for a break and a chance to plan.

Meanwhile, I'm thinking about how different art forms inform each other. Given the stitching gridlock, I've been looking at paintings and photographs as well as fabric and stitching. The New York Times (seriously, I could spend all day just reading their art, politics, writing and culture blogs) has a great blog called Lens, and if you are at all interested in photography as art, journalism, or cultural record, you should visit it. I was captured by this post on Librado Romero, a photographer who also paints. I have no photography skills (have you noticed?), but I'm looking for a new camera that will at least give me a better basic tool to learn to take a decent picture with. Right now I'm thinking Canon S90 or Panasonic LX3, if anyone has thoughts.

Last week, I rediscovered Richard Diebenkorn's paintings. The more you look at art, the more you see the kinship in what calls to you. Though I'm a stylistic omnivore, I always swoon over the painterly, color-field experience, the kind that's deeply emotional but also intelligent, not random, with both a spiritual quality and an inherent reference to nature and the material world. Diebenkorn's Ocean Park series is like this. The Orange County Museum of Art has an exhibition of this masterful series scheduled for spring 2010.

 

Richard Diebenkorn, Ocean Park #54, 1972

Richard Diebenkorn, Ocean Park #125, 1980

This article about Diebenkorn draws a parallel between his Ocean Park paintings and the work of Agnes Martin, who I've written about before -- I admire her work enormously. Alabama Chanin has been inspired by Agnes Martin for her spring collection of handmade couture. I like when these pieces fit together and there seems to be a context and a narrative that links the work I'm drawn to and the artists I admire. (Here is a good review of Agnes Martin's work from 1992.)

Closer to home, I've raved about Deidre Adam's stitched and painted quilts before; she's also a gifted photographer and is now making some amazing paintings. She's a wonderful example of someone who can explore different media with great fluidity and grace. I especially like that there is a unified vision and point of view in all of her work, no matter the medium; this may be what distinguishes a professional artist from a hobbyist with a short attention span, so her fine example is something worth aspiring to. Here are some of her newest paintings, reprinted with permission. Her story of these paintings is fascinating; read it on her blog here. 

Deidre Adams, Resonant State 2

Deidre Adams, Resonant State 4

I'll leave you with these images of beauty on this Christmas Eve. Thank you for being here all year, and a very sweet and soulful holiday to you; listen for the song of the angels. And a special thank-you to Laurie for paying forward my small gift; that made me very happy!

It came upon a midnight clear

That glorious song of old

From angels bending near the earth

To touch their harps of gold

"Peace on earth, good will to men

From heaven's all-gracious King,"

The world in solemn stillness lay

To hear the angels sing.

Comments

[Tracy]

My year hasn't been quite what I planned, either. I find myself involved in several things I hadn't foreseen, and somewhat disengaged from what I thought would be central. Life, as always, is a work in progress.

[glennis]

enjoyed the diebenkorn links-thanks!finally had a moment to enjoy them. DO come out and we'll go see the OC show!

[Morna Crites-Moore]

Very interesting blog post. I have a feeling many of us are looking to 2010 to be a special year.

[sharonb]

I think many people felt it was a stalled year - for me things got done but at times it was like wading through knee deep treacle. A treacle year that what I call it

[Donna]

Thank you for the inspiring images and the reminder that this is a good time for us all to regroup and review our intentions.

[marja-leena]

Wishing you peace and joy and creativity this Christmas season and in the New Year!

[arlee]

I wish you sharp needles, strong threads, rainbows of fabric and floss in the new year. May your designs be splendiferous, your work heart felt and your art horizons expand beyond your wildest dreams.