My textiles are created in response to images of places and things seen in night dreaming. In each and every dream there is a searching, looking for those lost through death. Some of the places seen on this search are landscapes that I can not reach even through flying, crawling, walking or running. Some of the things found on this search are tangible object I can hold in my hand, such as rocks, a leaf, a coffee cup as though each had a story to tell that I can not hear.
Even in the tangible, those who were gone could not be found. Eventually, I take these images out of my head and begin to translate them in to pieces of fabric, if only to rid them from
my waking thoughts.
Through the process of transforming these dreams, from the ethereal to the real, the answers begin to arrive. What can not be found in sleep is found in silent wakefulness.
The process of painting and processing these silks becomes a meditation. The process of cutting up the silk and piecing the fragments back together also becomes a meditation. The process of stitching the fragments together becomes a prayer.
Each stitch functions in much the same way as rosary beads function for my grandfather. Holding a sewing needle between two fingers, each tiny stitch completed becomes like one single bead on the rosary. Most of the prayers are for hearts rest, for my yearning to be silenced. Some of the prayers are to remember, to never forget.
Those who were lost to me are found, if only by waking and remembering them. When I wake and begin to walk forward, I remember me too.
Even in the tangible, those who were gone could not be found. Eventually, I take these images out of my head and begin to translate them in to pieces of fabric, if only to rid them from
my waking thoughts.
Through the process of transforming these dreams, from the ethereal to the real, the answers begin to arrive. What can not be found in sleep is found in silent wakefulness.
The process of painting and processing these silks becomes a meditation. The process of cutting up the silk and piecing the fragments back together also becomes a meditation. The process of stitching the fragments together becomes a prayer.
Each stitch functions in much the same way as rosary beads function for my grandfather. Holding a sewing needle between two fingers, each tiny stitch completed becomes like one single bead on the rosary. Most of the prayers are for hearts rest, for my yearning to be silenced. Some of the prayers are to remember, to never forget.
Those who were lost to me are found, if only by waking and remembering them. When I wake and begin to walk forward, I remember me too.
