I’m going to defer to jude and her post today on slow cloth since as usual, she says it so well. if you think you ascribe to these ideals and believe you can learn from or add to the conversation, please join in.
if i wasn’t so beat i would be working on some slow(er) cloth but since i spent today processing ribbon i am giving myself a break and doing a quick blog post. i have a few things that i’d like to make note of and instead of too many words i offer you some visuals in the form of a slideshow:
so here you see some of the recent outcomes from the studio and ribbon i am preparing for the show next week. also are a couple of small works in indigo using some vintage ossenberg (sp?) cotton i acquired from my friend donna. it loves the indigo. today i was in need of some bookmarks so i decided to make these. i have been studying a book on loan from Japan on Ichiku Kubota. that’s him in the photo. this afternoon i heard the UPS truck stop out front and i knew he must be here to deliver my copy of “The Poetry of Place”, the book compiling much of Charles Burchfield’s 75 journals he kept over his lifetime. after visiting the show at the Hammer twice and deciding i really wanted to own this book i found that it had appreciated in price beyond my budget. i persisted and deep down on a google search i found a bookseller in NY with a copy for $65- still a bit of money but after seeing the book go from $85 to over $500 i felt fortunate to find it- apparently only 3000 copies were printed. our city library system didn’t even have a copy. when i unwrapped it and opened it up i found the pictured inscription written by the editor to a fellow who contributed some family archival materials to the project. kinda cool. i kept going back to read a page or two off and on all day. this one entry really spoke to me today:
December 25, 1914
…People invariably love the artificial more than the natural. They respect superficiality more than deeper feelings. Most are content with a paper rose. Most buy their perfume in bottles. Rather than real friendship, they are content with superficial expression. They do not care if their acquaintances are sincere, as long as they pretend to be. I would rather have ten sincere enemies than a hundred palaverers.
So I go to Nature when I want sincerity. In nature we not only find sincerity but also innocence. And when, on all sides I am beset with palaver and artifice, I feel the need of drawing a long breath, I ramble the fields.