Anny – Page 15 – Dreaming In Stitches

The Alchemy of Art

Having been so intensely working on The Shell piece lately, I missed reading some of the blogs I usually keep up to date with. But at the end of last week I went back to the wonderful Rima Staines’s blog – The Hermitage, and was bowled over by her post, The Alchemist.

I’m a big fan of Rima’s artwork and look forward to her posts, but in The Alchemist, I found myself thinking how close my own experience of transformation is, to that which Rima describes in the creation of her paintings. And I was especially taken by her use of the ribbons as threads of magical inspiration woven into a work and then taken up by others as a result of contact with the work.

This is incredibly resonant with the way I see the creation of tapestry pieces.

Not only are these works literally the weaving of threads, but in creating the pieces, we bring parts of ourself into the work too. Our moods, our feelings, our loves, are all incorporated. But these inspirations have originated through our response to other works of art or nature and so we are bound too within a web of creation.

Rima talks about the act of creation as nourishment to the soul and I have to say I heartily agree. When I’m immersed in my stitching, I’m in a deeply peaceful place, more than simply a relaxation, it is actually stimulating. Thoughts and ideas grow there. Indeed it is extremely nourishing, and probably the reason why having given in to the desire to sew, I now find myself feeling whole.

Who are we to know who will pick up a thread from our work, or what they will make of it? – it doesn’t really matter. The point is that we are all alchemists, all involved in transformations and all enriching the greater whole by pursuing our art.

A huge thank-you to Rima for expressing the magic of alchemy.

Tipping the balance and planning next steps…

slow stitching

In which the shell inspired needlepoint heads for the finishing line and I start to think about the next piece.

Remember this?

I started trying out hessian as a needlepoint canvas, back in February. For the 10oz hessian, I sketched out a design roughly inspired be the shape and colour textures found in some shells.

Since I finished the Tree on the 7.5oz hessian, I’ve been back to the shell piece.

Every large tapestry I work, goes through development stages. In the beginning, every stitch stands alone, putting just a small area of yarn into the canvas. The unstitched area vastly out measures the stitched sections.

Then, gradually, sometimes achingly slowly, patches of stitching start to acquire their own texture – they become something promising, firm, solid.

And then, if you are prepared to stick at it, there comes the delicious moment, when you realise that the piece has acquired a life of its own – it suddenly possesses its own energy and you know for sure that you will fill every square in the canvas and that when you do, it will have knitted together to make something strong.

It feels like a kind of alchemy that transforms simple strands of wool and weak loose canvas, into something that firm and resolute.

This is the stage of stitching I love the most. Every new stitch, binds the whole together more and more. I’m seized by an urgency to see what it will finally look like. I get grumpy if I can’t find time to put in the missing stitches and I start turning down visits to the pub so I can stay in and sew instead.

I’ve just reached that stage with the shell piece.

But…

You know what it’s like when you’ve been absorbed in a really good book and you can see that it’s coming to the end and although you want to know the ending, you also begin to wonder what you can possibly read next to fill the gap.

Well, I’ve found that with tapestry sewing, I need to have the next piece ready for me to start as soon as I finish the last one.

The shell is a big piece – roughly 45cm x 80cm – so the next one will be smaller. I need to have a rest from the big ones for a few weeks.

I’ve also decided to use up the white canvas, so I’ve spent the morning sketching out a new tapestry.

Stained glass continues to send trigger messages to my brain – I think that’s where this came from.

So I can see what I’ll be up to for the coming days.

Happy stiching etc.

Where do you work?

slow stitching

In which I confess to having a studio fetish…

Is it me? (Well, quite often I think it probably is), but I’m just asking, where do you make your art? Do you have a studio, or would you like to have one?

Making needlepoint artwork doesn’t really lend itself to the traditional studio. I do most of my stitching, sitting or lying on the sofa. I move around quite a lot, depending on whether I’m using a frame or not and how big the piece is that I’m working.

I quite often sit with my legs up on the sofa, using my knees as a kind of frame – but it really depends on where on the canvas I’m sewing.

IMAG1377 — My real workspace (I know it looks like a sofa…)

I do have a big floor frame, which my dad made for me years ago, but I rarely use it. I don’t like bending my neck over, and I just feel more comfortable sitting somewhere soft and comfortable.

Oh and the other thing is, I like to work where it’s warm – I go quite cold sometimes, so I prefer to work where the heating is on, or in the window if the sun is shining.

But all that being said, I just love looking at other people’s studios. It feels a bit naughty, a touch of the voyeuristic, but it’s so exciting to see how other people organise their working areas.

Some seem very utilitarian, others are more a work of art in their own right. There are even magazines that feature artists’ studios – (although I haven’t yet resorted to buying them).

Our local area is having an open studio month – you can drive around and go in to see where artists are working – but could I go? Would it feel as if I was snooping? Would it be like those people who visit houses for sale, just to see what they are like inside and with no intention to buy?

I’m especially intrigued by textile artists’ studios. These seem to be a deliciously guilty mix of art studio and sewing room.

So to all of you who publish pictures of your work space – THANK YOU. It’s inspirational, but I can’t quite work out why or how – it just is.

Being Distracted…

slow stitching

Oh, you know how it is, the sun comes out, you get a good book to read, you buy a new dog…

Well, it’s been like that around here lately, which is why I’ve been away for a few days. Actually I’ve been going through the process of getting the house ready and then settling in the gorgeous new blond man in my life – what a sweetie he’s being too.

The sun has barely popped its head behind a cloud for at least a week now, which is of course wonderful, but a bit of a shock to the system. Although I should warn any of you living around here, that I went and stocked up on sun lotion yesterday, which is normally more effective at bringing a heat wave to a halt, than appointing Denis Howell as Minister for Drought.

As for the good read – I’m delighted to have found I’d Rather Be In The Studio, by Alyson B Stanfield. I tried VERY hard to find a hard copy – I am after all one of those dreadful scrawlers in books – but short of paying well over £30 and waiting for the vagaries of shipping from the US, there was no option but to buy the Kindle version.

Although I can’t cover the pages with pencil, I’ve found myself taking notes, which knowing the way my old brain works, might actually be more effective – time will tell.

It’s a book for artists who want to get serious about promoting their art. Being involved in the very slow art world of needlepoint and tapestry, it’s terribly easy to let things slide, putting off deadlines and thinking that everything will happen in the future by some strange turn of fate.

When I was living in the corporate world, I was really good at goals and deadlines – now I’m being motivated to set up those routines again and see what I can achieve.

So, hello again. And now it’s off to the studio (ok, sitting room) for me.

Enjoy what’s left of the weather!

Time To Shell Out…

slow stitching

Remember the other part of the hessian experiment?

The shell

This is the 10oz hessian, with a considerably tighter weave than the 7.5oz, although still soft and quite variable. I don’t know what it is about working on this material, it certainly has its frustrations, but I really like it – perhaps it’s the drapier texture, I’m still not sure. Perhaps it’s because it’s irregular, and that appeals to the bit of me that doesn’t like to play by the rules. Anyhow, I’ve picked up The Shell again and am making some progress on it. I think I may have mentioned before that this is not my normal palette, and I’m finding out about these more subtle colours as I go along, but it makes a change, and as I’m currently brooding on developing a stained glass inspired piece, this one is keeping all those glorious exuberant shades under control until I’m ready to let them loose.

Happy stitching, drawing, quilting etc.

Possibly Finished?

slow stitching

The tree might be finished…

I persevered – it was lovely to stitch, soft, yielding, warm. But it has given a whole new definition to wonky.

It hasn’t told me what it wants to be – I thought perhaps a rather arty wall hanging…

It would however need the skills of a remarkable magician, to overcome the wonkiness.

Years ago I made some clay pieces that might lend themselves to weighting the bottom edge.

But right now I think I’ll put it away and move on to something else. Maybe inspiration will strike if I stop trying to force it.

A Bit Grumpy…

journal, slow stitching

Ever had one of those weeks?

I can’t really complain – but I will anyway.

The thing is, the tree is coming along very slowly, but I can’t say I’m all that happy with it. In my mind, it was going to have more contrast, more texture, more je ne sais quoi.

And it doesn’t.

And although I want to sit and slap some ideas around, I haven’t managed to do that yet – partly I suspect because I’m trying to solve the tree problem and I don’t want to leave it without feeling happier about it.

So, I’m feeling a bit grumpy and a bit out of sorts. And the best thing when I’m in this frame of mind is to get off and moan in private.

I’ll come back when I’ve got my happy face back (as my mother thankfully never said).

Have a good weekend.

Drip, drip, drip…

hedgerow watching

In which dripping feels like the appropriate word.

It’s raining here this morning. This is good news, as we’re in the official drought zone and hose pipes are a no-no, probably for the rest of the year, according to the man on the radio.

The girls are back at school today. Unusual for the weather to take a nose dive when they go back – more often it’s the other way around.

It feels quiet in the house now. I’ve done the chores and I’ll be sitting down to stitch once I’m finished here. Progress as such, has been very slow over the last couple of weeks. I always find it harder to get into the stitching when the girls are around, and anyway, there’s just too much going on.

But I’m also feeling that tingly sensation that heralds the need to move on to something new. I think the sketch book might come out this week.

Little droplets of inspiration flit across my brain and then are gone.

Happy stitching/crafting/creating.

Growing a needlepoint tree…

slow stitching

Well, it’s slow progress, but there is growth.

This week I’ve concentrated most of my efforts on the tree. It seems to have passed that critical point when you find that something makes a bit more sense and you actually want to see where it’s taking you.

Of course the open weave hessian (burlap), makes for an interesting stitching experience, but I’ve decided to let it teach me, rather than impose my stitching style onto it. It isn’t all plain sailing – we’ve had our moments of disagreement, and I half expect more to come, but above all, I am learning.

Look away now if you’re of a nervous disposition – the picture below shows just how random the stitches are…even I have had to buy myself a big piece of 14 count mono, just to reassure myself that I have somewhere to go back to if it all goes pear-shaped.

But do you know what? I’m actually pretty happy seeing where we’re going with this – at least I am for the moment – next week, who could say.

I did a kind of running stitch tramming for the background colour, so that I’d have some texture to work into, and so that I could see what an overall colour would do to the composition. My idea is to stitch over the background to give it more depth and stability. We might fall out about that.

But all in all, it’s beginning to have that certain weight in the hand. It definitely feels more like a tapestry than an off-cut of hessian now and who knows, it might work out OK.

The Great Tapestry of Scotland

slow stitching

Scotland in stitches…

I could hardly believe my ears this morning, listening to Radio 4. There was a piece about a new tapestry, to rival the Bayeux in length – describing the history of Scotland.

Apparently, it is the brainchild of the author Alexander McCall Smith – he who gave us the Number One Ladies’ Detective Agency – and who must be one of the most engaging Scots alive today, together with the artist Andrew Crummy (what a splendid name for any artist), and history writer Alistair Moffat.

The work will comprise over 100 panels, each being worked by volunteer stitchers from around Scotland. It is to go on display in August 2013.

I had a quick trawl around Google this morning, looking for pictures or more information, but so far, nothing substantial – just the link at the bottom of this post – perhaps we’ll see more later today, since at last, needlework has hit the major news programme of the day!

So a huge thumbs up to McCall Smith for having the vision and will to put this project into action – and I really look forward to seeing what the finished piece looks like. What a wonderful legacy for future generations of proud Scots.

Glad to see that someone still appreciates the value and the art of tapestry.

The Great Tapestry of Scotland

Metallic Tree

slow stitching

What happens when you let yourself play.

While I was away in Prague, the stained glass windows in St Vitus’s Cathedral made a huge impact on me. I’ve always loved stained glass, but something about the colours and the sheer amount of glass in that building, touched me somewhere – the greens and blues were especially wonderful. Do you ever get the feeling that you are bathing in the coloured light?

Then, when I got home, the latest issue of Cloth, Paper, Scissors, was waiting for me. In it, was an article about the artist Kirsty Quinn and some small pictures of her work.

Again, something about the use of colour and texture touched a spot in me.

I found myself wanting to try to do something with these inspirations. So, I’ve been having a little play.

I found some air-dry clay in the cupboard, rolled it out and then spent a happy hour embossing shapes and lines into it. Of course, it would hardly be me if a tree hadn’t planted itself in there too.

Today, with the clay being nice and hard, I’ve carried on playing, by painting it with a combination of acrylic inks and paints – most with metallic finishes – I’m a sucker for shiny things.

And I finished it off with some rub-on metallic wax. I really enjoyed doing it. Back to the stitching now.

Here’s the result.

the whole piece - metallic tree — the complete piece - metallic tree

Learning as I go along…

slow stitching

A smattering of creative revelations.

How do you respond to the urge to create something? Some art forms lend themselves to a potentially rapid response – drawing & painting mean that you can quickly get into your work, see your ideas in action. Other art forms take longer – music, stone-carving, writing, all these require a long creative process. I see needlepoint in this category – slow art.

But as a slow artist, my creative urges aren’t generally slow. I get impatient with the work I’m making – not generally while I’m doing it, but I often feel impatient to see it in its finished state.

I get seized with ideas for compositions, colours, inspirations – things that I’d like to create in needlepoint, but I know that it will be a long time before I can bring any of these to light in stitch and canvas.

But this week, I had a few little personal revelations.

The first was something that occurred to me while I was working on the piece I’m calling ‘shell’.

Whenever I start a piece, when there are just a few little stitches on a big piece of bare canvas, it can be difficult to ‘get into’ the flow. I feel irritable, it doesn’t draw me in to work at it. But I keep going. Then, at some point, usually about a week or so into the stitching, I suddenly ‘see’ where I’m going. The piece starts to have its own life and then, from that point, I find that I have an urgency to carry on.

I reached this point on ‘shell’ this week.

The second thing that occurred to me this week, was that stepping out of my comfort zone, isn’t a bad thing to do.

The tree piece that I started, hadn’t reached the critical point of seeing where I was going with it – I was struggling.

tree wip — Tree, it looks better in my mind, where I can see the next stage

I’d had a break, but then it kept popping up in my mind. I think my subconscious mind has probably been spending time working on it for me. Anyway, I picked it up again, and now I am beginning to ‘see’ it. It won’t take tent stitch, so I’m having to explore alternative ideas. I need to lay down a structure, which I’m doing now, so that I can then come back over those areas, adding colour and texture.

In my mind now, I can see how this can be created – that’s a very big step forward for me. The piece feels so different in hand, to my usual needlepoint, but at last, I’m beginning to understand it better.

And the third thing that struck me this week, was that just because my chosen medium is a slow one, doesn’t mean that I am restricted to working in that medium. At last (please don’t laugh at the poor old girl’s naivety), I realised that when those pesky creative urges hit, there’s nothing to stop me getting the pencils or the paints out, and getting them down.

That might not seem very radical to you, but to me this was important. I do think that I’m gradually starting to understand how ideas form, how odd snippets of inspiration coalesce, and how you don’t have to be a perfect artist to use those flashes as they come.

The best thing I’ve found, is that when I do get the pens out and just get on with it, I experience a great sense of relief, and then I can pick up the stitching again, with a clearer mind.

Oh, and the very last revelation – I love Prague. (I went there last week – there’s a post on my non-stitchy website, Mostly Motley, if you’re interested. Just the most incredibly beautiful city you could imagine).