"writing in a journal reminds

you of your goals and of

your learning in life.

it offers a place where

you can hold a deliberate,

thoughtful conversion

with yourself."

-robin s. sharma

sometimes time slips. unexpectedly. swiftly. disappears from before your eyes. it's almost like taking a wild ride in the tardis with your very own personal doctor who! 

it's been rather like this here on my blog. i got swept away by allure of instant gratification of instagram. don't misunderstand, mind you. i love instagram! but it moves so quickly. makes it difficult to gather ones thoughts. so i find myself drawn back to the wellspring of my blog.

a blog can truly be one's journal. that place where you can explore thoughts. share them. get feedback. wander from room to room in one's imagination.

a place to jot down notes and thoughts to come back to and develop further. 

to collaborate. drink from the wellspring and refresh oneself.

i think i shall be spending more and more time here, once again...

namaste'

shoes full of slush

"spring is when you feel

like whistling even with

a shoe full of slush."

-doug larson

the winter blahs have been hanging heavily in the winter mist here in montana, or so it seems to be the case in the manhandled threads studio. the creative juices have been sluggish...resistant to anything but slumber.

now the sun is putting in an appearance for a change and spring is hinting at arriving. my fingers are itching again. finding needle and thread and at least warming up with some random bits of embroidery and hand sewing. it feels good to stretch creatively and feel the return of a creative drive!

namasté

personal archeology

as an artist (though, in truth, this applies to most areas of my self), i sometimes find distractions mounting on all sides leading me astray from intended purpose.i begin to feel rather like the cartoon dog spotting squirrels and darting off in unexpected directions.  perhaps this is not always a negative activity for it uncovers many surprising treasures, both in experiences and objects.

this evening, the squirrels were stuffed away in several binders and boxes. pages upon pages of ideas captured in pencil and ink and paint and cloth. dolls/ quilts. instruments. carvings. paintings. all yet to be manifested.  a walk through memories forgotten. now revisited. it is at times like having a.d.d. of a sort.  the whispers drawing me in so many directions. it is a sublime bit of confusion in the moment. though eventually not very productive.

perhaps this little foray into personal archeology will inadvertantly redirect me down a more creatively productive path.... until then, i am enjoying the journey!

namaste'

a hobbit's thought

"there is nothing like looking

if you want to find something."

-j.r.r. tolkien, the hobbit

sometimes i sit and wonder what to do. or not do. or do again. i can make myself crazy doing this doing-ness.  or doing-less, as the case may be. so in order to quell my brain and stop the world from upending itself and folding in, i pulled out my bowl of tiny squares and began stitching. again. tiny stitches. ticking the seconds away. i know one day these tiny squares will become some thing. a larger thing. a warmer thing. but right now they are simply tiny squares. stitched into a somewhat less tiny square. though still not large enough to warm anyone.

and then i noticed a new fray. a small rending at my ankle. a new opportunity to stitch. when i relinquish the tiny squares once again...

namaste'

sunday musings

sometimes i seem to careen off into a tangled forest of thought and distraction. these journeys may last a few minutes, if i'm lucky...weeks, or even months, if i am inattentive to the moment. our first snowfall this year woke me from this current slumber. nothing like a face full of snowflakes to bring ones attention back to the moment!

my creativity levels are still on the sluggish side, so i have simply picked up the pile of tiny little 1 1/4" squares of salvaged fabrics and begun stitching again. it's rather like walking, isn't it? first you take one stitch. then another. and another. pretty soon cloth is materializing beneath your fingers!

namaste'

time has a way about it...

"thirty was so strange for me.

i've really had to come to terms

with the fact that i am now 

a walking and talking adult."

-c.s. lewis

i remember feeling just so. as c.s. lewis did at thirty. i wonder how he felt at forty? at fifty? having just turned forty-eight a few days ago, time has intruded upon my thoughts once again. though this time, in a different manner. i've been thinking lately how i have forgotten how to manage my time. for years i have worked between 70 and 80+ hours a week. this leaves little more than stolen moments to play with between work and sleep. now, for the past month, i've reduced my hours to simply 40 a week. i have so much spare time. but i have forgotten how to utilize it. i have found myself sitting on the couch more often than not. wasting my time doing little to nothing. oddly overwhelmed by the nothingness, really. so, yesterday, i decided i could no longer afford to do this anymore. i began to reclaim control...

i picked up needle and thread and began chanting this abandoned piece once more. adding soft blues and muted oranges by hand to the machine stitched bird. chanting butterfly trails to remind them where they have been. begun digging through small, wooden boxes and satcheled caches of ephemera in search of more to push the boundaries of this little cloth.

oh, i know i am unlikely to stick with this one cloth until it is finished. there are too many others now calling for my attention, and you know how i like to jump around as my creativity directs me. but, for now, this little bird has captured my attention once again.

at least, that is, during the cool morning hours until the sun begins to beat like a south african drum. luring me out into the shady recesses where i have stashed my old farm truck and my fingers begin to itch for the sensation of oil and grit...

namaste'

somewhere in the darkness

"time changes everything

except something within us

which is always surprised

by change."

-thomas hardy

time has been sitting on my mind of late like a bear on a stack of salmon bones. perhaps because i have had more of it (whatever that means) these past few weeks. perceptions begin to shift whenever routines change. the greater the change, the broader the shift. you begin to look at people and situations differently. realizations that once flickered like a tiny candle in a deep, dark room become a brilliant blaze which illuminate seemingly every corner. of course, at first the eyes must adjust to this new found clarity before the brain can begin to comprehend what is being seen.  in times such as these, it is good to fall back on something known.

i pulled this cloth out this morning and found myself stitching color again. bright, festive colors on cool, impersonal white. life dancing in all its brilliance across the blank face its absence. there is something liberating about this. perhaps there will be more of it in the coming days. this brilliant dancing of life. color. music. celebrational activities. perhaps a lot more...

namaste'

urban guerilla boro

it is always inspirational when we meet someone finding new ways to connect their art to the community in which they live. michael swaine is one such artist. i did not run into him on any of my forays into san francisco, but hope to some day. i would love to spend some time chatting with him and hearing more about his "performance art" project.

here is a man who is a potter/sculptor by trade (teaches at the san francisco art institute) who reached out into another medium and found a way to express it in a new and elevating way. he designed and built his own mobile sewing station after finding an old treadle machine in the trash. has spent the past couple of years wandering around one of the roughest neighborhoods of san francisco known as the tenderloin, and mends local residents' clothing. but he doesn't stop there. he connects with the residents in meaningful ways. talking with them about life. about mending. or sometimes just about the weather. whatever they need to talk about while he treadles boro patches and mends seams and rifts in their clothes...and, quite possibly, in their lives through his outreach and warmth.

between his mobile forays of urban guerilla boro, michael is currently building the free mending library in the tenderloin area at 509 ellis. it is a place to borrow thread and sewing machines and talk about life.

i wonder what other ways we can connect with our community through our art besides the more traditional gallery?

namaste'

family is where you find it

while attempting to make some sort of order from the chaos in my studio, pulling together clovage (salvaged cloth) into workable "families", i realized that the idea of family is always forefront in our culture's mind. be it the often televised political organizations seeking to put forth their ideas of what a family "should" be, or a simple family of like-colored cloth salvaged from old clothes or purchased from stiff new bolts at the local quilt shop.

as i make my rounds through favorite blogs, and adventure to previously unfamiliar (un-family-ar) blogs, i frequently see family references. from jude's frequent jaunts to her mom's house to annnie's poignant remembrance of her beautiful mother (i still can't stop the tears from gathering in the corner of my eyes).

coyote toe bones in ancient tibetan begging bowl

i have been thinking a lot about bones and frameworks lately as a rather large group of very talented people have embarked upon jude's latest adventure, spirit cloth diaries. jude has been talking about "filters" and we have each turned our respective eye toward determining our own personal filters...either for working within the context of her workshop, or even beyond into the filters we use in our own work. our homes. our lives. while i have many discernible filters in my artwork, i am currently focusing on bones in the sense that they are the framework upon which our bodies are hung, and thereby our lives and interactions with others and their frameworks. their bones.

when contemplated from this vantage, i found that i frequently voice thoughts about being "without family" here under the big sky. having moved here ten years ago. a few years later finding myself alone. without the partner whose vision was shared for a time. whose bones once shared the framework of our lives with my bones. found myself thinking in terms of "consoling myself" with "at least" having my "fur-family". but i do myself, and my many loved ones, a great disservice with this direction of thought. for families are created and nurtured and grown. not limited to blood relations. or even distance. family is where you find it. not only where you were born.

my born family resides nearly a thousand miles away in idaho. further in washington and further still in southern california for siblings. but they are never further away than a few seconds of digital button touching. but families extend even beyond this. dear friends who live across the country are also merely a call away. other dear friends live closer to home and are seen throughout the week. and my wondrously talented and creative family of friends here on this blog are never more than a keystroke away.

all of these blessings that are my family of friends and relations hang upon the framework...bones...of time and space. it is a great family that stretches its branches deep into space and provides shelter and warmth for these bones upon which my body and life hang.

...i am humbled by the blessings you all provide. and full of gratitude.

namaste'

just looking...

feeling a little out of sorts today, so decided to head downtown and walk around. surprised by these little late season treasures, i found myself wondering how on earth the keeper managed to force blooms this time of year? it's still a mystery. one of many that i may never know the answer to. but i'm okay with that...

on my way back home, i noticed clouds beginning to form. blow in. meteorologists are talking about a cold front moving in today...but cautioning before too much celebration, that it will only be here for the day. they are also promising a smattering of rain. they are usually wrong. but i am hoping they are not...

while piper seemed to be content to have me back home for a bit, i think it's time to go find a quiet spot down by the river with a tablet and a few writing impliments to do a little brainstorming. maybe the clouds will take a hint...

namaste'

a treadle and a crank

i've been asked to whisper a little more about my treadle  machine and why it has such a prominent place in my heart when it comes to sewing machines. if you know me at all, then you know that i have too many sewing machines. ha! is there such a thing? actually, it isn't as bad as it sounds. i know people who literally have hundreds of machines and don't think twice about it. however, i prefer to live smaller than that and would have no place to sleep if i had that many machines. at last count, i believe it was only 6 or 7 machines, ranging from a high-end, newfangled computerized pfaff on down to a little toy singer lock stitch machine!

one of my "go to" machines is an old treadle singer machine that has travelled half way across the world to live with me.  i purchased it at a yard sale in duarte a couple decades or so ago from a woman who purchased it in cairo several years before immigrating to california.  it was originally made in england, according to serial number records and has a lovely sphinx decal set. when i purchased it, it had been set into a reproduction treadle stand as the previous owner had to replace the original after it fell over in one of many earthquakes in that area and had become damaged. i have since acquired a wonderful, vintage oak cabinet and relocated the treasured machine into happy new digs!

i really enjoy sewing with my treadle machine as there is something nearly mystical about it. the rhythmic rock of the treadle is soothing and the hiss hiss of the leather belt turning the wheel is near hypnotic.  this machine and i have a long history together as it first came to live with me back in the 80's when i was making artist teddy bears. many a bear has come to life under its wondrous needles. since then, it has helped me create dolls, quilts, rugs, costumes and clothes. now it focuses on slow cloth and salvage re-invention garments.

one of the benefits of sewing with a treadle machine is that thicker, tougher fabrics can be sewn in many layers! since you are basically stepping on the needle by stepping on the treadle, so long as you have a good strong needle in place, you can really push through some of the thickest layers of denim, duck and canvas!

yes, yes. i could sew more quickly with the computerized machine. i could incorporate several hundred decorative stitches. my studio could be filled with the brassy beep beep of electronics. in truth, it is...but usually only when burning out a baby quilt or other gift that needs to appear post haste!  but my heart stays with the treadle. as i rock its gears into play, i can almost hear it whisper stories of past dressmakers and designers it and its forebears has known... there really is no substitute for this sort of connection, and this way i get to utilize the tool known as a sewing machine, but still feel a close tie to history.

however, if you would like to meet my deepest desire when it comes to sewing machines...then you want to shake cranks with this little gem! this baby is a treadle machine that has been mounted into a bentwood portable cabinet and fitted with a hand crank. now...i can already hear the groans as you begin contemplating the nature of this machine and its operation. coordination?!? you mean, you have to be coordinated?!?

yes. you do need to develop a little coordination to work this machine since you must crank the wheel with one hand while directing the cloth being sewn with the other hand. but it really isn't as complicated as it sounds. believe me...i am not one who can pat his head and rub his belly at the same time...but this machine truly is a breeze to operate!

why would i want to jump through so many hoops to sew with a hand cranked machine? it is as near to hand stitching as one can get with a sewing machine. it is extremely accurate as you have complete control of the machine. as well as it speeds the sewing process up a bit...

ever wonder how the kuna indians of panama turn out so many wondrous molas? yes, a great many of them are done as they have been traditionally created...each painstakingly hand-stitched!

however, they are not always stitched by hand. hand cranked sewing machines have been around for over 100 years and they have been put to good use by the kuna indians, chinese, malaysians, indonesians, europeans, eurasians and more!

lest you think that reverse applique by hand crank machines is an anomaly, the treadle machine has a long, time honored tradition of being used by masterfully skilled hands (and feet!) of embroiderers across the globe! i have seen amazing examples of traditional clothing bathed in embroidery that would boggle the mind when one stops and realizes that it was all created by hand....on a machine!

read one woman's recollections of her grandmother's "precision, control and skill in manouevring her embroidery hoops back and forth under the steady up-down-up-down of the [old treadle] machine needle" (and see other examples along with examples of hand-manipulated cut-work embroidery done on treadle machines) on her blog here. i dream of one day developing a fraction of the skill her grandmother had!



still can't believe it? watch a treadle machine in action here!

i hope now you may understand my passion for remembering and re-incorporating sewing machines into the process of cloth-making. when we are able to shift our perception and realize that the machine is merely another tool, then all sorts of possibilities open up to us! i personally tend more toward manually operated machines such as the treadle and hand crank machines since i feel i still have total control over the stitches i am making with the machines. however, i am open to the possibility that more modern, electric and computerized machines are simply another extension of these tools. but for now, i am loving my treadle and hand crank machines all over again!

namaste'

of two minds...

we've been having a very hot summer this year, with temperatures in the upper 90's day after day. then, unexpectedly, we had one day of mid-60's temps and rain showers. it was a wondrous day...and now safely tucked away in memory as the temps have climbed back into the stifling upper 90's once again. but this dichotomy in the weather brought to mind another dichotomy, only in a different arena.

my style has changed drastically over the years. i have listened, and even participated in, many discussions as to the superiority of hand stitching vs. machine stitching in art cloth. i have seen countless examples supporting either argument. digested thousands of explanations for each. have even found myself sharing one side's...then the other's point of view. then this odd shift in weather got me to thinking... is there truly any reason why the two can not exist in harmony together?

yes, the majority of my cloth work these days have been generated in "traditional" slow-cloth fashion...as the result of innumerable hours of painstaking hand-stitching, with only occasional dips into the guilt-ridden use of  one of my sewing machines to cobble together long seams more quickly. and while it is true that i really like the extra texture and element of a hand-stitched seam in much of my work, there really is no reason why i can't slough off the guilt of incorporating machine driven stitches into my cloth. after all, most of the fabrics that have been harvested for my creations have been machine loomed in a factory somewhere. machine sewn to create garments. many of these salvaged machine-made seams and elements find their way into my art cloths.  so why am i so hesitant to form my own machine-made stitches? guilt? most likely....but guilt over what? it seems silly and naive to feel guilt for using a tool at my disposal. would i feel guilt for using a vacuum to clean my floors rather than the time-honored tradition of gathering fallen branches and sweeping what dirt i can from my floors with twigs? of course not!

one of my new focus points in cloth-making is now going to include being mindful of the tools that i use in their creation. this includes the sewing machine! this being said, i am still more likely to use the machine more often for long, tedious seams and so forth as i truly love handmade stitches. but i am going to not hide machine made stitches as though they were the work of some evil entity attempting to corrupt the purity of my art!

besides, it is not as though i don't have a variety of machines to choose from, including everything from a treadle and a hand crank machine on up to a newfangled computerized machine that does everything for me but brew my morning coffee! granted, my passion for the past and the history of things leads me more often than not to the treadle machine in my studio...or out under a shady branch with my hand crank singer than to the computerized pfaff purchased in a fit of machine envy back in my days of working in quilt shops...but i am in need of finding myself being more present in the choices of my tools. more present...and less judgmental... and hope that this might inspire others to look more closely at irrational beliefs they might be holding close to heart and find peace in their dissolution...

namaste'

in the right light

in the right light,

at the right time,

everything is extraordinary.

-aaron rose

just continuing with yesterday's thoughts...and observing my surroundings. i am amazed as i watch them under the growing light of early morning...again in the bright light of mid-day...still again in the twilight of the setting sun...

in one light, the subtle nuances of an object is lost. in another light, the brightest colors are washed out and details are obliterated. but the change of light does not reflect a change in the object itself. the object remains the same. i think this holds true not only in art, but also in life.

my focus today is to look at my art...and life around me...with a new eye. one intent upon seeing what is there to see in all of its guises, regardless of the light that illuminates it. not with a goal towards judging the conditions...but merely to observe. and delight in all the facets of my environment! will you join me?

namaste'

reverse sides

the reverse side

also has a reverse side.

-japanese proverb

i have been down with a very nasty cold this past week since returning from the burning plains of idaho. i don't know if it is because of all the smoke and ash in the air, or simply the unlucky exposure to some virus or bacteria that proved stronger than my immune system. either way, i have been provided some time between coughing and sleeping to contemplate. while thinking about the drawbacks of being ill for a time, i remembered this japanese proverb and began looking at the situation from a different vantage. one that is not necessarily viewed as being anti- or negative... not wrong or evil. simply *different*!

 i don't know why i hadn't thought of this before. "the reverse side also has a reverse side." of course! i use this to my advantage all the time in my art. using the reverse side of fabrics for a different shade or texture. discharging color from cloth and fiber with bleaching agents to reveal the reverse side of colors. studying the reverse side of embroideries to see what different shapes and avenues may be suggested. placing such things as knots on the side reverse to what is ordinarily thought of as the "usual" side to introduce new textures and designs. and so i am now looking at this cold, now slipping away, as the reverse side to my being healthy and  running about, sometimes aimlessly, and forgetting to be mindful of each step along the path of my life...

i see so much more right now. paths not taken that are waiting to be explored. activities that have pleasing reverse sides of non-activity. where i had originally sat down at my computer to apologize for not being around and actively posting this past week, i now find myself sharing an idea that was born in that inactivity and challenge you, gentle reader, to see the reverse side of your own reverse sides more often, and to be present to what you may find therein. you may be surprised!

namaste'

revisiting old roads

"only he that has traveled

the road knows

where the holes are deep."

-chinese proverb

these past several weeks have been filled with activity...but little creativity. a lot of cleaning, organizing and extra shifts at the cottage. now that i have started my much needed vacation, i find myself turning inward. contemplating life, art and the directions being taken in each...

i have realized that i am very good at starting things...but not necessarily so diligent about finishing them. this is not a new observation. but one that i have visited and revisited before. i have always believed this is because i enjoy the process most of all. and perhaps this is still true. but i have also found that there is a certain sense of fulfillment and satisfaction in actually finishing something as well. to this end, i have decided to focus on finishing things.

i'd like to say that i won't start anything until all incomplete projects are finished. but i know this won't happen. not because i am lacking in dedication...but because i know it is impossible to stopper the creative flow long enough to devote myself entirely to finishing every project in my work basket. besides, isn't it really about the act of creating and manifesting? it is in my studio. so i have decided to at least attempt to finished two projects before starting something new. in this way, i may find more cloths being fully realized.

one of the first i'd like to finish is this contemporary thangka. i had thought of incorporating it into a winter kimono but, after bringing him out to play again, i have realized that he wouldn't stand up to repeated washing as well as he will end up being rather stiff from the intense embroidery that is continuing to manifest. and really, i wanted him as a thangka in the first place and really have no reason to redirect that original vision... i've been sitting out by my parents' waterfall and stitching on mind flowers and can't think of a better way to spend quiet mornings while relaxing with family...

namaste'

an interlude for planting

i've been out planting trees again. spending time with my hands in the soil instead of wrapped in cloth. a much needed endeavor. for the yard...and for my spirit. the australian aborigines speak of *jiva*, a *seed power* deposited in the earth. in their world view, every meaningful activity, event, or life process that occurs at a particular place leaves behind a vibrational residue in the earth just as plants leave an image of themselves as seeds. the land's mountains, rocks, riverbeds and its unseen vibrations echo the events that brought that place into creation. i am finding that there is a potency in connecting to these echos. a dreaming that unfolds that is much needed in my life at this time.

as i dig into the earth and cultivate the soil to receive the waiting trees, i contemplate my own *soil*. my home. my work. my art. are they fertile? where is compost needed? pruning? re-seeding? there is much to be done. always much to be done...

i will be back to manifesting cloth and the stories therein in the next couple of days. i have many rust bundles to unwrap. needle chanting to do. dye baths to prepare. workshop projects to re-engage in.

today though, my hands are in the dirt...and it feels good to commune with trees. one must always slow down and become quite still when communing with trees. their thoughts are slow. measured. without haste. for their vision emanates from a totally different perspective and can sometimes take centuries to unfold...

namaste'

enlarged to show details

i've been hermiting a lot lately. poking around in my brain. remembering. connecting. digging aimlessly through scraps and threads.  been feeling disconnected from the community around me. but not yet ready to venture forth into the thick of it. so content myself with fingering salvaged bits of cloth that once clothed neighbors. and strangers from town. scraps culled from known and unknown quilters' fabric dross. while feeling a sense of community amidst these salvaged fibers, a thought filled my mind about creating a human wrapping cloth. a product, i'm quite certain, of my journeys with jude... but also, perhaps, a gesture to pay homage to the longing to feel connected to those around me.

last night the dark skies became crowded with rolling spring storm clouds attempting to cool the day's heated edges while i sat in my tiny house filled with a giant dog and too many big dreams and stitched together remnants of cloth. of community. an attempt to slake this thirst. i'm not ready to spread the emerging cloth out for eyes to peck at like hungry birds, so you will have to be content with these folded excerpts.

this is just the first row of soon to be many. it will be flat. i think. but still a human wrapping cloth. not intended to lazily stretch itself out across the expanse of a bed, but to embrace and cuddle the human body. constructed primarily of 6" squares and 6" X 12" rectangles and soon to be joined by circles (moons?) and smaller squares, if only for good measure. being much larger in scale than i've been working in of late, i've pulled out the old treadle sewing machine again and done my piecing therewith. though i quickly found i missed the texture and interesting bits of color afforded by hand-stitching the seams open with variegated threads... to that end, i am now going back and needle chanting them in place while contemplating my community and how these scraps may have once fit into the lives that once held them.

this morning i planted another oak tree in the front yard. a 14 foot twig, really. some day i hope to bring my treadle out and sit beneath its spreading branches to sew in its cool shade. but for the moment, i am content in its infancy and am delighting in its twigginess.

i'd like to say that i will be getting back on track to posting every other day. spreading my own creative branches once more. offering cool shade to wanderers. my own ideas enlarged to show details. but for right now, i am sitting within my own twigginess...

namaste'

being gentle

"although we are not often taught this, 

the most skillful way through an impasse 

in meditation is to become aware of it 

and of what holds it together 

and keeps it running."

-jason siff

i find this to be true in anything. be it meditation. art. work. whatever! the trick, though, it seems, is to figure out how to actually do this. for me, if i simply keep doing the meditation...the art...the work...in the manner that has gotten me this far already, and resist the temptation to push harder, but rather applying a softer, gentler touch, then the impasse will begin to dissolve and fall away. sometimes i don't even notice the moment that it does. i just notice all of a sudden that the resistance is no longer there. other times, it simply remains as it is. and that is okay, too. i just allow them to be what they are until they choose to be something else (notice i did not say "something more"). perhaps this is why i no longer stress over what others call their uncontrollable pile of ufo's. by allowing them to simply be, i am able to enjoy them nonetheless...and remove the stress of feeling as thought i simply must finish them this moment!


though, there are those who will stress over even this... ha!


today i am inspired by this.


namaste'