Thursday, June 25, 2009

You're my main meal

"I want you to be my main meal. Not just a side dish. Not even dessert.

Many people dream of getting married. I dream about running. Will you be my one and only pair of sneakers?"

Hand stitched on antique lace (see Antique fabric and what I'm dreaming of post).

Sunday, June 14, 2009

Antique fabric and what I'm dreaming of

I love when my artwork helps bring new friends into my life. Paula Overbay, a fellow artist I met at the recent Affordable Art Fair in New York City passed on to me a wonderful piece of antique, Irish fabric. The piece at left is how I am using this delicate lace.

This piece, when finished, will hold a collection of my aphorisms or "post-it notes;" my small-scale comments on fabric. I think of it as a text quilt.

So far, the piece says:
"I'm mourning the relationship we never had, and thinking
of the ways I would have loved you."

"I don't want to be the girl
you call for homework.
I want to be the girl you
go out with Friday night."

Somehow, as a single 34-yr-old woman, dating still reminds me of how I felt in high school.

Wednesday, June 10, 2009

School girl

"I don't want to be the girl you call for homework. I want to be the girl you go out with Friday night."

Embroidery coming soon.

Saturday, June 6, 2009


I love the word synapse. When I was in my early 20s, I had just started dating a man 9 years older than me whom I'd met when we shared an office at a non-profit. I found my job tedious, but looked forward to seeing him every day. 

Shortly after he and I started dating, he went on an annual beach vacation with his family. Alone again in New York City, I missed him, and, of course, wondered if he had been thinking about me. 

My most salient memory of that week was going to the Whitney Museum to see Robert Rauschenberg's "Synapsis Shuffle," a piece composed of numerous panels that were to be rearranged or shuffled upon each new installation by a different person or group. For some reason, I found it interesting that Martha Stewart was one of the participants in the Whitney Museum installation.

In any event, I have always loved the sound of the word synapse, which means a small gap where neurotransmitters travel. I like to think of a synapse as a space in a relationship where emotions and information are conveyed, shared, and exchanged. 

In the piece above, I removed some of the warp (vertical) and weft (horizontal) threads to encourage the fabric to fray, and to create larger "synapses."

Piece above: "Synapse." 2009. Embroidery on distressed linen. 4" X 3.5".
"I want to slip into the synapse of your loosely woven threads."