thread chanting

"chanting is the

waxing moon

that spreads the white

lotus of good fortune

for all living entities."

-sri  chaitanya-caritamrita

if you have followed me for any length of time, you've heard me speak of needle chanting many times. it is a term coined by jude hill long ago, referring to the meditative nature of hand sewing and kantha stitch. lately I have found myself contemplating this concept in my own work and how the focus has shifted.

needle chanting becomes thread chanting. the focus moves from the act (needle) to the legacy (thread). from chanting to that which was chanted, and its lingering effects.

chanting is very powerful because it aligns our core energy, centers and raises our personal vibration through vocal resonance. it is much the same with stitching slow cloth. a meditative process that chants with needle and thread. holding self in the present. creating with intention. the silent chant of needle echoing softly as thread is pulled through fragments of cloth. the voice of slow cloth, a quiet voice of the soul. silent whispers becoming the roar of peace, harmony, creativity, and all possibilities!

namasté

getting lost

"it's okay to get lost

every once in a while,

sometimes getting lost

is how we find ourselves..."
-robert  tew

ever wake up in the middle of the night and feel like you don't know who you are anymore? like you took one too many turns without being present and now nothing looks... right?

last night i woke into one of these moments and wandered into the sewing studio and just sat there. communed with a few of my stitched and dyed fragments. expressions, really, of self. tiny bits of who i am. or was. or am yet to become. who knows which?

i need to be present more. to myself. to the expression of my own fragments. i've wandered... strayed a bit too far. become lost. 

it's time to find me again..

namasté

darkness intruded

"light thinks it travels faster

than anything 

but it is wrong. 

no matter how fast light travels, 

it finds the darkness has always 

got there first, and is 

waiting for it."

-terry pratchett

no matter how hard i try to hide from the morning sun, it always finds a way to intrude upon my thoughts. waking my day to the reality coursing through the world outside my bedroom window.

yet, daybreak is one of my favorite times of day. teetering between the realms of dream and waking. some of my best ideas are born during this between time.

"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'

considering edges

"i want to stand

as close to the edge

as i can

without going over.

out on the edge

you see all kinds of things

you can't see

from the center."

-kurt vonnegut

the skies this morning are sitting on the edge between endless sunshine and thunderous storms. the morning itself is and edge. between darkness and light. chill and warmth. is it no small wonder that i find myself considering edges?

in art, no matter the medium, the edge is as important as the center, the focus, of the piece.  how that edge is contained. or left wild and free. how the edges interact with the environment around it. do the edges set boundaries? redirecting the eye back into the center. or do they invite the viewer to explore new vistas? drawing one beyond the confines of the piece into unknown territories.

when we entertain going beyond the edges, we talk about pushing the envelope. this implies that we are inside the envelope. with everyone else. trapped. constrained. that we are trying to find the edges on the outside. so we can move them. but if we simply move the edges, we are still sitting safely inside them.

i prefer to think of edges as doorways. passages beyond, yes, but also portals of return. allowing us to roam the endless possibilities while still beckoning us home once again. to rediscover ourselves in light of new understandings. new experiences.  to explore the treasures we find elsewhere. the ideas. the techniques. and to integrate them with our own evolving sense of style and interaction with the world through our art.

will you step through that doorway?

namaste'

glowing against the grey

"only connect!

that was the whole of her sermon.

only connect the prose and the passion,

and both will be exalted...

live in fragments no longer."

-e.m. forster, howard's end

it is strange, how ideas fold in on themselves and re-present themselves. a stray fragment whispered longings for something to make her shine. i gifted her with a star. seeing her joy, i sought to give this gift again. before i knew it, there was a tiny galaxy of stars, just there, glowing against the grey.

soon other celestial bodies whispered into existence.  moons. suns. planets.  these could be any or all, for what is in a name?  tiny echoes of the sunbursts and moonglows that have been manifesting in my studio. celestial fragments.

they look familiar. yet different. new.  ah! but of course! inspiration bathes us in its own celestial glow. jude hill's nine series of indigo moons and stars. pale resist-dyed "threadcrumbs" luminous in their deep indigo sky. jude has ever been a beacon in the star-filled sky of my creativity! so to keep that element, these celestial fragments are grouped in nines as well. to pay homage to the one who seeks "a cross-pollination" which "seeds a larger and exotic garden of delights."

so very different, yet related. these smoldering rust-printed celestial fragments would play quite nicely with jude's mysterious indigo jewels in that garden...

namaste'

a sense of home

"there is nothing

half so pleasant as

coming home again."

-margaret elizabeth sangster

in the midst of a flurry of rust dyeing for new projects and my new etsy store, i find myself drawn to my collection of wip's and ufo's. not in melancholic yearning, but as drawn to old friends whom i've not seen in a long time.

there is a comfort in knowing they are there. waiting. ready to pick up where we left off. harboring the glowing embers of fond memories. memories that rise with open arms and envelope you in a warm sense of home.

it's heartening to know these friends are there. will be there. whenever needed. even when they are temporarily misremembered...

namasté

twang gently

"where hast thou wondered,

gentle gale, 

to find the perfumes

thou dost bring?"

-william c. bryant

it is much to easy to get lost in the convenience of social media. the lack of a need for any real thought.  the simplicity of posting images and short bursts of words.

i am thankful for those of you who read and comment here on my blog.  reminding me from whence i started.  welcoming me home.

these rust-dyed fragments are resting here for some secret sewing.  soon to be joined by other, more colorful, fragments.  but for now, i am enjoying their quiet countenance.  it suits my thoughts at the moment.  the giant grinning buffoon of a coffee mug seeking to draw me out of my solitary thoughts with its silliness keeps a corner of a smile on my lips and helps me to stay on track. but the early morning light sneaking in through the drapes seems almost hesitant, and so my thoughts ramble on in their shadowed halls.

not depressive...just...muted. reflective. the antithesis to the burst of colorful wonky house sewing that blasted through my instagram feed recently.  instead, they wrap about my shoulders like a shawl against the early morning chill and listen quietly as my fingers linger on the strings of one of my dulcimers.

it's a good sunday. a quiet, lonely sunday.  just me and bodhi. and these quiet thoughts and gently twanging strings. and attentive fragments and that silly grinning mug...

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

petting the beast

"sometimes you wake up.

sometimes the fall kills you.

and sometimes,

when you fall, you fly."

-neil gaiman

revisiting this tonal quilt. drawn first to its colors. they suited the quiet, somber mood that prevails this morning. as more snow blankets the countryside with an eerie silence, my thoughts dig deep. deeper.

isn't it strange how inspiration can both motivate and terrify at the same time? like something soft, warm and fuzzy. masking pointy teeth and scratchy claws with an unreliable disposition. is it any wonder many artists find themselves at an impasse at times?

best to pet the beast and get it over with.

though sometimes i simply want to eye it warily, sink deeper into the fireside chaise, and wait for it to make the first move...

namasté

hex happens

"life is too short

not to experiment."

-jamelia

being a creature of habit, i find myself slipping into patterns and stale routines at times. of late, i've indulged my inner brat with sulking through the holidays. moaning about the things i don't have in my life. blah, blah, blah, roll eyes, etc.

in an effort to form new habits, i let go of my self-decided dislike for hexies. to be honest, the hexie quilts i'm used to seeing are the vintage, lavendar and moth ball scented old lady flower garden types. now, i love vintage quilts, but these just do nothing for me.  this afternoon i saw a critter of altogether different proportions. a scrap hexie quilt. now *this* i can do! i was awestruck. it was beautiful!

of course, being a hoarder of fragments, i am in no short supply of material, so i decided it was time to stretch my legs and do something different. i decided it was hexie time.  starting with scraps from community (still in the works), i began making my first hexies.  little two inch hexies (note: apparently hexies are measured by the length of their sides...they are only 1" hexies). after the first few, i was already skipping down the primrose path to hexieville!

i guess this dog ain't too old yet...

namaste'

considering play

"play is the only way

the highest intelligence of

humankind can unfold."

-joseph chilton pearce 

just playing. and considering. these two activities go hand in hand really. they can also be a field for a crossroads of another sort. where the lo-tech style of my art meets the hi-tech tools of modern pocket computers  (otherwise known as "smart phones"). while i still enjoy lo-tech romping with colored mark making tools such as paints and colored pencils, creative apps and digital images allow me to play at times when it might not otherwise be convenient to pull out paper and pencils or a watercolour kit. like while standing in a queue at market. or sitting in my monstrous front loader on break at work!

here, i'm entertaining the idea of light as wreath. or wreath as sun. which way around depends upon your perspective. it's nice to see an idea on "paper" so quickly. allows me to move forward without a sense of wasting much time when the idea doesn't work out. or, in this case, allows me to move on to cloth and stitch more swiftly when it does!

namasté

portals

every doorway,

every intersection

has a story.

-katherine dunn

i've been thinking lately about the story of my cloth work. not so much of the story of how i came to do it, but rather the why of the art itself. whether the "art" in question is cloth, paint, music...or even the way i arrange my personal space...it all boils down to my desire to reunite and record fragments of thought, feeling, and memory in such a way as to convey these fragments to others. to allow them a glimpse into my joy. my sorrow. my...whatever...and by doing this, i continue to discover new things about myself...how i relate to the world...through the process of quieting my mind and working with my hands and the interplay of them and the materials i am working with. this opens a doorway into the inner workings of how we each look at the world in which we live. provides an avenue for sharing...

namaste'

recovering a sense of play

"the creation of something new

is not accomplished by the intellect

but by the play instinct."

-carl jung

life can sometimes bog us down. adulting can be a very serious matter which can take over and rub the shiny off of just about everything.  in order to remain sane, we must remember to cultivate a sense of play.

play energizes us. enlivens us. it has the capability of renewing our sense of optimism and makes us open to new possibilities. in our art. in our lives. in general.

there are many ways in which one can play.  one of my favorites is to create and play with little people. needle chanting new spirit-filled people into existence and fanning the imagination with their stories.

here are three such people in their beginning stages. a perky boobed lady emerging from an old fragment of experimental batik. a woodsy fellow in winter holiday colors making his way from a vintage clothing fragment. finally, a peachy, flesh-toned dude taking shape from a "failed" dye experiment. beyond these few shreds, their stories are still transpiring. being whispered quietly in the background.

me? i'm carefully listening.
with scraps of cloth and fibre.
allowing.
being.

namaste'

changing perspective

"when i let go

of what i am,

i become

what i might be."

-lao tzu

these lovely rust dyed cotton fragments
were a gift from a delightful follower
on instagram (@pwendy). this buddha is
joyfully sporting new threads until inspiration
moves them in another direction!

a comment i made to erik shipley of ship's manor on instagram the other day was very enlightening for me once it took root in my consciousness.  a simple statement made about my style of knitting. something i have said a thousand times about being a process knitter rather than being results driven. one of those *aha!* moments that suddenly through open the drapes that have shrouded my perception about my own creative style. not only am i a process knitter, but i am a process artist!

this was a very liberating realization. freeing me of years of self-judgment and ofttimes debilitating criticism about harboring a plethora of unfinished work. reminding me of the joy i experience in simply creating for the sake of creating, not to race to complete something for the sake of being done with it. the many creations that rest in various stages of growth are just that: resting in a stage of growth. of evolution. all a part of my enjoying their process of creation. no longer accusing. no longer judging. but celebrating whatever process they are in. whatever step they are at along the path each moment. rather like a reminder of the way i try to live my life. in the moment. not grasping and judging but enjoying. celebrating.

there is something to be learned from these emerging fragments of the creative process. something delightful and invigorating!

namasté

being open

"we all get so caught up

in the moment

of what we're doing every day,

it's hard to hit that reset button

and get pulled away 

from all that and see

life from a different perspective."

-tony stewart

this year has been a year of thinking. thinking about doing. thinking about what to do. thinking about how to do. what to do it with. not a lot of doing. just a lot of being stuck. being. stuck. you have to hold on to those two words separately. together they are too daunting. too damning. strung together, they accuse. they mock. they label.

being stuck: you are stuck. 

but separate, they hold the key to liberation from that accusation.

being. stuck.  

separate, they allow growth and hope.  being: the state of life and experience. stuck: a lack of movement. dormancy. you don't condemn a seed for not yet blossoming into a glorious plant. you nurture it. encourage it to grow. so why do we disparage ourselves when we become dormant? stuck?

it is time for me to focus on the first word. being.  when we break the statement, being stuck, down this way, we can allow ourselves to grow. there is an open-endedness to being. a promise of something more. something different. now it is being full.

being full.
      of promise.
             of hope.
                  of potential.

namaste'

idle hands

"happiness is

a warm puppy."

-charles m. schulz

i've been so busy with building barns this summer that i've been tuckered out by the time i drag my butt home at night and can't bring myself to do much more than let my hands sit idle at the needles. this week i have been playing around with a some ideas for a slow cloth version of bodhi though. i really like the direction this one is going so will have to muster the energy this weekend to dig through my fiber stash and see what i can come up with. maybe i'll manage a little rust dyeing and stitching, too?

namasté

broken heart mending

"it is only with true love and compassion

that we can begin to mend what

is broken in the world.

it is these two blessed things

that can begin to mend all broken hearts."

-steve maraboli

ordinarily, the news is avoided in my house. too much hate and violence in the world. the news industry feeds on it. sensationalizes it. attempts to make it pedestrian in order to find new horrors to parade across our minds.  but in a world wrapped so tightly in social media and visual stimuli, some fragments still manage to find their way in. tv screens posted strategically at the gym. memes dancing across various streams on smartphones and tablets.  there's only such much one can filter out.  it is in times like these that i am grateful to lead a sheltered life with my saint bernard, bodhi, and the resident cat, piper.  their sweet soft eyes and truly unconditional love are a gentle reminder of just how healing love and compassion are. would that we could all see the world through such eyes. would that we could all remember that our own broken hearts are not unlike anyone else's. would that we could all see the beauty in the world through the kaleidoscopic cracks in our hearts. would that we could allow compassion to pour through those cracks in an array of rainbow colors.  would that we could all simply see. truly see with our hearts and know joy.

namaste'

"clouds come floating

into my life,

no longer to carry rain 

or usher storm,

but to add color 

to my sunset sky. "

-rabindranath tagore 

a little color is gently stitching it's way across the rusty sky, insinuating new depth. hinting at hues still to whisper across this quiet scene...

every new cloth is a journey. some are chaotic. filled with color and noise and celebration. others, like this one, tip toe softly across the imagination, instilling a more meditative sense of joy...

namasté

squirrels and other distractions

"i often imagine

that your mind wanders

through the same

forest as mine."

-raine cooper

a dear friend of mine opened a wondrous resource for creating new artistic tools.  it is amazing what a plasma cutter is capable of making from a flat sheet of raw steel!  these lovelies are still shiny and as distracting as chattering squirrels, but will soon be coated in lovely rust and ready to go to work!  i have some very specific ideas in mind to try out with them this weekend...

she also had this delightful rust dye tank created for me.  created from raw steel, it will soon be rusty and ready to go to work.  my idea when discussing the possibilities of such a thing with her was to create a rust dye tank that i could use to get an all-over dye bath brewing in.  my hope with this experiment is to be able to create softer rust dye results than direct to metal rust dyeing.  i'm also hoping to see if it will lend itself to more of a shibori dying technique with rust.  i don't know of anyone who has tried this as yet so don't know if it will work, but the theory seems viable.

to this end, i have already dumped a starter rust dye mush into the tank, created from the rusty bits and rust dust collected from the floor pans of my 1960 International Harvester B112 truck that were removed in the process of fabricating shiny new floor pans.  this rust dye mush has been cooking in a bucket with rainwater for a few months already.  now i'll add more rainwater and some vinegar and really get the tank cooking!

as a happy serendipitous surprise, she also found this lovely small rust dye tank for me.  we are not sure what it was intended to become before it was abandoned in the scrap pile, but it is water tight and made of raw steel, so it is now my new experimental rust dye tank.  the perfect smaller size for one offs and mad experimentation!

so many new squirrels to chase after!

namaste'