Someone recently asked me if I sketch out the designs on my stone first, or if I had a concept of what they would look like.
The short answer is no.
The longer answer is that my art is an organic thing. I value the process as much as the end result. So when I sit down with a stone, pick some colors, and start to stitch, I do it without an idea of where the stitches are leading me.
Sometimes I find out pretty soon into a stone but some, like this one, take longer before I know where I'm going with it.
I began by capturing a small stone under stitches, a technique that signifies an embracing of something precious. Knots and beads started to surround the stone and then some thin green plants appeared. Next came small circles, then a line, then another. Soon I knew where I was going. I added more plants, the hint of movement, and ripples at the surface and what I had was a skipping stone.
A small stone skimming the surface of water, leaving bubbles in its wake, a view of the watery landscape beneath it.
It will settle at the bottom after its wild ride. After losing momentum. But not until then.
Leaving my stitching behind on this overcast Monday morning to greet the week.
Work, workshop (with the amazing Naomi Schliesman), meetings, school shopping, chauffeuring, stitching...and some planned fun, an intermission of sorts, though I don't know quite what that will be yet.
I was very flattered to be featured in the new issue of Her Voice magazine, a seasonal insert in our local paper. Her Voice is a magazine by women, for women, about women and it's always fun to look through and see what other women in our community are up to. The article about me was written by Kathy Krueger, a freelance writer who I've gotten to know in the past few months through my job at The Crossing Arts Alliance, and she did a wonderful job. She made me sound much more interesting than I actually am.
I was photographed by Joey Halvorson, another new friend from The Crossing. Only for her would I pose with wool birds on my head. Only for Joey.
In the article I talk about how much it meant to me to find the creative souls in our community (my peeps) and to be able to find a job working with so many of them. I'm lucky in so many ways, friends. Though my days are long and life is not always easy, I *am* so lucky to have found my peeps both in town and here in this blog.
Those chirping eggs have turned into chirping chicks. 5 of them so far in the brooder box. One, sadly, didn't make it through hatch but the others are fluffy and peeping like little champs.
Interestingly, these guys are white, not yellow, with random dots of black. Their moms were black hens and Carlos the rooster is a mix of white and red so it's strange to see these little soot patches on their white fluff. Sort of like a tiny version of 101 dalmatians.
Speaking of speckled fluffies, look how big the ducklings are getting. Every time I wander outside they're underfoot, begging for food. And biting my toes.
Even Tiny is growing. And though I tried to give him a good strong name like Thor or Sledgehammer, we keep calling him Tiny. So there we have it, Tiny.
I'm done hatching for the year so at some point I'll be back to posting about art. Pretty sure, anyway.