New Studio Announcement
I am so excited to share with you that my new studio is up and running — this time with copious amount of succulents, eucalyptus, and nature-inspired textiles! Though not captured in these photos, a roll of steel wool is currently dangling from my ceiling ready to be spun.
If you would like to schedule a studio visit, talk fiber, or just drop a line, please contact me at email@example.com. The rest of the summer is looking very green and resilient from my corner of the studio, and I wish the same for yours.
Art May Seem to Involve
57 days after the end of my residency, I finally moved into a new studio space that contains no trace of what I had experienced in the past nine months at the Textile Arts Center. Cones of weaving yarns are still lining my shelves; the roll of steel wool is still suspended from my ceiling but its microscopic cuts are now detached from my finger tips. I neither wanted to spin the steel wool nor walked away from it. My decision vacillated between diving back into a space of lost and mourning, and transforming - growing - merging - morphing (what is the right word for this action?) steel wool into a material of post-grief.
I’m a big believer in you will know what to do when you know what to do. At 11:57PM last night, a dear friend sent me an email, in which she wrote:
So I started reading that book I gave you The Artist’s Way and read something that made me think of you:
“Art is born in attention. Its midwife is detail. Art may seem to spring from pain, but perhaps that is because pain serves to focus our attention to details (for instance, the excruciatingly beautiful curve of a lost lover’s neck). Art may seem to involve broad strokes, grand schemes, great plans. But it is the attention to detail that stays with us; the singular image is what haunts us and becomes art. Even in the midst of pain, this singular image brings delight. The artist who tells you different is lying.”
I think it is now time to focus on the lost lover’s neck.
Jackie O. on Love
"I’ve always thought of being in love as being willing to do anything for the other person—starve to buy them bread and not mind living in Siberia with them—and I’ve always thought that every minute away from them would be hell—so looking at it that [way] I guess I’m not in love with you."
(in a letter to her high school boyfriend in 1947)
When I spun steel wool in my favorite dress by Lucia Cuba at the Textile Arts Center’s 5th birthday celebration in Brooklyn.
i’m not sure how often you read what i write but i wanted you to know
i am going on a small break / vacation / staycation / internet rehab
until august 1st
wherein i hope to do much, think much, experience much
yet not updating much
may your july have both sunny days and rainy moments while sitting indoors
BEACON & COLD SPRING, NEW YORK
I finally developed this roll of film today — exactly one year after the trip.
"Perhaps when we find ourselves wanting everything, it is because we are dangerously close to wanting nothing."
TAC MAG IS HERE
The moment we’ve all been waiting for is here - TAC Magazine is available for purchase! We couldn’t be more pleased with our beautiful first issue. I am so honored to be featured in the magazine both as an Artist-in-Residence and a contributor on “A Textile Love Story.” Order your one-year subscription today and bathe in our world of fibers!
She asked if I wanted to be held before I hold on / The answer is yes.
Yes to holding when you said it was going to be okay.
While falling asleep side-by-side, our bodies were left to crash into barriers drawn up on our bed sheet. White flags from unfought battles enfold the contour of our skin. My arms wrapped around your thighs, your knees, your feet while I cried, screamed, and lied to you about holding. You pushed me away with my phone in your hands as evidence of why touching me was the last thing you wanted to do. You pushed my head against your chest. My skin against yours. I counted. Your heart beats. My body convulsed because you were still holding me.
THE END OF 57 DAYS OF FIBERS
Cleaning out the studio today allowed me to look at my first experiences with textiles during my 9-month residency at the Textile Arts Center. My first shape, first draped and hand-stitched garment, first samplers, first weaving, first digital embroidery, and first pair of gloves for knitting steel wool. How much I have changed in the past nine months surprised me as I put every first into a box. A week after the residency is over, I already became nostalgic of what has been and what will be.
A friend suggested that my “work needs more birds, triangles and pithy quotes” to make me more relevant, so I went ahead and took his advice.
This is my first attempt. I hope you enjoy it.
DAY 56: 57 DAYS OF FIBERS PROJECT
Hand-sewing pieces of knit together for the final critique tomorrow & my outfit because I have no concept of summer vs. winter clothes.