the cloud in me

The Bed

a charged site because of birth, death, sex

but also the bed is where we dream

My quilts spend time with me

My quilts hold mystery.

colours, lights and structures exist in their most perfect form in nature

 

nature composes
nature groups and assembles
nature dismantles materials in the right way
authentically

the wind bears things away
water currents carry them along and sort them into categories
light is strained and filtered through clouds, foliage, blades of grass
these events surround us
morning till evening, season to season
always imperceptibly changing

Agneta Hobin  (Finland)

beautiful

 

close your eyes and repeat after me

"I am beautiful"

I've known you my whole life

when you are here
everything is wild
moon

nayyirah waheed

do not worry

 

I removed the white edge and am making horizontals at the base of my earth cloth.

I replaced the greens that deteriorated with flesh tones in my cloud cloth.

I used a flesh colour because this show is, after all, about the body and its healing.

apologize to your body. maybe that's where the healing begins.

             Nayyirah Waheed

more destruction, more repair

 

I washed the Cloud In Me because it was grubby.
I always wash my work to embed the stitches.  It's part of my proces.

I washed it in hot water in full cycle - and it came clean but things fell apart.  Also some bleeding from the 9 dots in the center.  So, I washed it again.  Warm water full cycle - and it came cleaner yet but the velvet frayed out of the reverse applique holes.

That green silk velvet is a gift from Connie.  It was the skirt of a Christmas bridesmaid dress she had made for her daughter.    Connie is very frail these days.  I am mending it today by replacing that old velvet.

Can't help but think that this is another metaphor.

even as I continue

 

no false glamour
rather the dark glamour of time and its relentless attrition
like scar tissue
full of liminal moments
full of secrets
James D Campbell (about artist Marion Wagschal)

artists and children  by marion wagschal

it's OK it's OK it's OK

 

I washed my long cloth

the red wool inner stuff bled through to the off-white linen

I think it's Ok

oh sappho

 

some sweet song
in honey voice
piercing breezes
wet with dew

goat herd       longing      sweat

roses

all at once
blossom
desire
take delight

now don''t
right here
now again

holding the heart

youth       queen
me     you
shall love

Sappho translated by Anne Carson

complex beyond knowing

 

art is as close as humanity will ever get to nature....
things that are complex beyond knowing

Roni Horn