living intentionally--what is in bloom today?

This morning is slow, calm, grey.  A bit of drizzle. The hills in the distance are hidden by mist that joins the clouds overhead. It is soft and silent. Still. Focused.

I read an essay by Jane Dunnewold. This time it is called What Matters. How do you live creatively as an artist? The blog post is based on a lecture she gave initially at Confluence--sponsored by the Surface Design Association. Clearly an essay rich with poems and ideas. You can read and re-read it  HERE.


Now much of what she says is true--needs to be repeated but we probably know it. Just listen to this--I am sure you are nodding in agreement.

 Life happens. Your best intention is to allow it to do so, without getting in the way, and by being constantly present.

True but tough to do. Right. Make your choices as to what is important to you. Practice staying true to these choices. Develop a community and be present in it. But in order to be part of that community we each must develop our own individuality and creativity. Now that needs to be said again and again.  Decide what is important in life, practice paying attention to that part of it and eliminate some of the clutter.  She suggests:

Cultivate Curiosity.
Try to be surprised by something every day.
Life is a stream of experiences. Swim in it.
Try to surprise someone every day.
Write down these two events.
When something sparks interest - follow it.

Great ideas. Perhaps too much to tackle at once. Can't we try too hard and get discouraged in this pursuit? But isn't it the process of practicing this. Doing one thing every day. Living intentionally. Working toward the Sacred. Avoiding clutter. Isn't this the essence of the struggle toward creativity? As I said this is a complex essay with lots of thoughts--worth reading and re-reading. I can't summarize the whole post--I can't even wrap my mind around it. But that is, I think, okay. It is an essay where you take what you need today and maybe take something else tomorrow.

 

She concludes with a marvelous poem by Naomi Nye--The Art of Disappearing. You really should read the whole poem. I love it. But for now, just consider the final stanza:

Walk around feeling like a leaf.

Know you could tumble any second.

Then decide what to do with your time.

Isn't that the key to living intentionally? Of taking advantage of your time and your own creativity?  Isn't that how we should try to live every day?

Today my garden is in one of those between times--only a few Siberian iris linger. The daylilies have buds, promises of their explosion of color and form that will soon follow. The mist focuses my attention.  At first I notice the weeds--how much they love this cool damp weather. The clutter they try to impose. I must weed again soon. But that is not why I am here this morning. I just need to check it out before heading to work.

Then I see it--my first Japanese iris is blooming unexpectedly.  Wasabe ute is its name.  Isn't it lovely. Flowers dancing floating above the leaves. Tiny raindrops on the petals. So simple and joyous.  Just look at those colors and forms. So complex but also so simple. It brings up memories of my images of Japan--a country I have never visited but don't we all have some idea what it should look like. Aren't they wonderful?

With more buds furled--the promise of sky and dance. Hope wound up and concentrated.

 
And for me this is one of the essences of the living intentionally. The dance of the Japanese iris focused against the mist of the hills. Maybe one can't follow all of the suggestions in her article--great guidelines. But just the act of observing this one flower. Focusing on its joy.  Isn't this what the leaf does--observing the present. And you--how do you live a creative life? How do you live intentionally? Do you live like the leaf? And what is in bloom in your garden?

should we call them art or art quilts?

As I sit in my studio sewing my latest quilt together, I have been wondering what is an art quilt? Is the requirement that the art be quilted detrimental to the concept? Now I can also see how the term art quilt came into being when people began first exploring the full potential of quilts and needed to define the new movement. Quilts are something both familiar and accessible--indeed doesn't everyone have some relationship with a quilt?  But has the time for this term come and gone? I don't know.  In some works clearly the quilting adds to the meaning of the piece. I think of the quilts of Susan Shie who uses a crazy machine quilting on top of her intricate detailed paintings to reference the traditions of quilting. My friend Jude Larzelere who uses machine quilting to add texture to her explorations of light and space. Or the geometric abstractions of Lisa Call whose lines are accentuated by rows of quilting.

But then I remember Jeanne Williamson. Now she has been a very talented and innovative quilt maker with one of her quilts even on the cover of a recent Quilt National exhibit. However, a couple years ago she felt she was being limited by the process of quilt making and instead became a mixed media artist. Check out her art--the fences that define boundaries and the process of time at http://www.jeannewilliamson.com  Looking at her career, it seems to me that her work has grown exponentially by leaving aside the need to quilt her pieces.

During my lunch break I was reading in The Surface Design Journal a great article by Joanne Mattera Affinities: Fiber and Wax. If you don't already belong, the Journal of the Surface Design Association provides one of the most thought provoking analysis of contemporary fiber art that I have found and is well worth the price of membership. Do check out The Surface Design Association.


Joanne Mattera is a wonderful encaustic painter who uses color and geometry to create what she calls "lush minimalism." Her blog is another one that I follow regularly.  In the article she begins by noting that although Jasper Johns used fabric and wax to make his iconic flags, he was not interested in the materials but in--as Joanne Mattera points out--"things the mind already knows." And of course there is the art of Louise Bourgeois who is known for her use of materials including textiles to create her art--but again her art was not limited  or defined by her materials but instead by ideas.  Mattera wonders if this isn't the time "for all of us to eliminate the adjectives we use to define ourselves as artists."

An interesting idea. I think about it as I finish the quilt. My routine, sew the blocks together, cover the seam with a binding and whip stitch the binding down.

Lots of work but I like how it looks and feel that my quilts gain meaning by their references to traditional quilting and the use of commercially available fabrics.  I am intrigued by the repetition of the block formation and the intensity of the quilting--a human touch that brings memories. I even like the fact that some of my quilts could actually get put on a bed and used but I don't feel that makes them any less art.

However,  I wonder if some of the so-called art quilts add the quilting just to be considered an art quilt.  Some seem so far removed from a bed quilt that perhaps they should better be considered textile art than a quilt. Others seem to be painting on fabric where the quilting seems almost to hold down the power of the piece in a way perhaps not intended. There are those where the techniques seem the main focus of the piece. And others--well, in the words of a former poetry instructor of mine can be referred to as personal expressions. Not that there is anything wrong with that...



Now I don't have the answers but I do ponder. If the work is art--whatever that means--then it may not need to be defined as an art quilt but maybe--to use the words suggested again by Joanne Mattera--as art with a textile sensitivity or maybe art that references quilts--or maybe just plain art.  Interesting idea. I haven't worked it out in my mind yet but maybe it is worth thinking about? Or is it? Am I off the wall? Have you considered it? Or have I just been doing too much hand sewing?