I wanted to challenge myself

And, it worked.

Itoshima, Japan

A month-long residency in a rural area of Japan (Itoshima, Studio:Kura) has challenged, inspired and poked me into uncharted territory. I had hoped that the studio would have a sewing machine that I could use. And they do. But. It is a bit of a nuisance to use it and that blocks me from doing the work that I am most comfortable doing. At first I thought I could conquer any machine. If this one was going to be a brat I would tame it to my ways.

My Studio: Kura studio.

You know when children decide to put on a tantrum show it is best to just walk away until they calm themselves. It was me having the tantrum and I realized that this was the first step to being challenged during my time here. That’s what I did. I stepped away from the machine.

I’ve done some hand stitching with colors that are unfamiliar to my hands.

I’ve done some cut paper experiments based on the principle of Notan.

And I have a 25 ft. long roll of rice paper that I have been drawing on. The drawing is about 8 foot long today and continues to grow. The drawing takes me to another dimension and allows me to think.

A detail shot of the 8 ft long rice paper drawing done at Studio:Kura.

I’m almost halfway through the four week stay in this lovely and inspiring place. I thought I might come up with some grand revelations by now. Maybe tomorrow.

Today the scroll is 8 feet long. How long will it be in November? I am thinking about how time is condensing and life is short. I know that I will not see everything there is to see before my end. My art reflects the thoughts and images I cannot put into words.

This beach is about a block away from my studio. This is all I really need in life—a way to see the beauty of the earth itself. It takes my breath away.

Travel Plans

By the time you read this I will be soaring across the midwestern plains to land in Denver. Hurricane Francine notwithstanding. Though I love to travel and meet new people, see new things, breathe new air, I hate the insanity that flying is in these times. Long lines (usually at 5am if you’re from Memphis), cramped quarters, sneezing and coughing passengers. I wear a mask from the moment I get into the airport to the minute I leave the baggage claim.

I’m leaving this unfinished experiment in pattern and color on my design board. It is made from pieces of found fabrics and a discarded quilt top from an unknown artist. It reminds me of the way my mind collects flotsam while walking.

Nonetheless, I persist. This time in a marathon. First stop the Front Range Contemporary Quilters in Denver, then a side trip to Santa Fe, NM, then a week in Taos teaching with Diane Ericson at the Design Outside the Lines retreat, then home for a day to prepare for the next flight. To Japan for an artist residency at Studio:Kura in the Fukuoka Prefecture’s Itoshima Municipality. For five weeks.

I am leaving a beautiful season in Memphis. Fall, with its colors, crisp air and shortening days is an inspiring time of the year. I will witness this autumn in three different places this year. I wonder how they will differ.

Stay tuned for updates on this marathon. I will try to post pics as I travel on.

This is the first sort for my retreat in Japan. When I am at an artist residency my challenge is to bring less and respond to my surroundings with simple tools. I may edit some of this out.

Alegre

I spent a week at the Alegre Retreat teaching a very talented bunch of stitchers this month. And, what a place! The Gateway Canyons resort is nestled into deep canyons in Colorado near the Utah border. Watching sunrises and sunsets was like witnessing a movie as the sun crawled up and down the canyon walls. I woke to the moon setting one morning, it sank below the rock wall as if hiding itself. I felt like I was part of a postcard.

This is the way I walked to the classroom each morning. Each day was different. Gateway Canyons, Colorado

We had a light snow one day. Frosting on the cake.

We stitched for 5 days. And, after a little hesitation the artists went full steam ahead. Sixteen fearless stitchers. Here are some of the results. I can’t wait to see what they create with these new ideas.

Teaching brings me great pleasure. I love it when a student expresses excitement about a new technique. I love it when they make it their own. I love to be with people who have the same passion as mine. Traveling fills my mind with new inspirations, new vistas, new ideas.

And, now, I will settle down to stitch some of what I felt and saw, and smelled, and touched and tasted.

A residency at the Virginia Center for Creative Arts

Let me tell you about a great experience. I was invited to the Virginia Center for Creative Arts in Amherst, Virginia for a 3-week residency. It turned my head around.

Here is a sampling of the things I saw and did.

The Campus

The Studio

New friends

My work

There was drama

That’s a ten bladed chain saw hanging from a helicopter that the railroad used to trim trees on their tracks. It traveled up and down those utility wires and the train tracks for two days. You could see those blades spinning. It sounded and looked apocalyptic.

The result

Surrounded by serious artists of all stripes I could not help but work all day and into the nights. The focus on serious pursuit of the work makes all the difference. We all toiled, we all celebrated each other, we all felt sheltered and honored. Did I mention three meals a day? I recommend this. Find a space that allows complete focus. Find other serious artists with whom to share the experience. Work hard and enjoy the privilege.

New beginnings, a refreshed spirit.

Returning from a long journey

Right before leaving for this five week journey I was invited to the Visions Art Museum for a solo show. Here I am talking to my audience.

I’ve unpacked, sorted through the gifts we purchased, did the laundry, read the mail, paid the bills, and reopened the studio. After five weeks and over 3,000 miles across six states, home looks foreign.

I taught an amazing class at Arrowmont with five of the most talented experimenters in the Midsouth. Then my husband and I traveled through Tennessee, North and South Carolina, Massachusetts and Maine on two lane highways and in the air. We visited six art museums, several arboretums, an aquarium and three magnificent beaches. We ate seafood.

I keep looking for ways to avoid the studio so I made yogurt, started a slow cooker meal, washed the dishes, made granola and sat stunned in front of the morning news.

I am not myself.

I am not even close to reprocessing what I saw—the colors, the art, the textures, the sounds, the details, the grandeur, the squalor, the light, the dark, the uncanny.

How can I possibly organize my thoughts when I have witnessed so much great beauty, sad destruction and limitless water and sky?

Here’s a sampling of what we saw. A glorious fall. The sound of wind and surf.