Barnacle Stone Circle

River Mending

In 2010, flying over South America, I took this photo of a river.

I used the line of the river in this piece, which is about mending.

Boro Cloth

I just took an on-line class called Contemporary Woven Boro, with Jude Hill, the Cloth Whisperer. I think she is a really fine teacher. Some of my most recent work includes new cloth woven from old cloth, as taught in her workshop.

In the class material, Jude Hill wrote, "Although Boro has become a bit of a trend these days, the raggedy edges and patching and primitive approach to cloth making... there is always a subtle reminder that this was not an intended art form. Or a fashion trend. This was life, mending, thrift, and respect for cloth. This is the result of living small with consciousness of means. The need to stay warm, the patience to repair, restore and to keep going... and the resulting beauty in that."

You can find Jude Hill here:

http://spiritcloth.typepad.com

Saltwater Fiber

I've always been enamored of found fiber and there was some lovely stuff near Fort Popham the other day. I like the inherent energy of this rope that's been in and out of the saltwater, tied, winched, hauled, buffeted and finally tossed ashore.

Nine Patch

Having just moved to Maine, I wanted to work on a Good Will quilt made from local materials. Off I went to the second-hand clothing store and found myself some nice, heavy, broken-in cottons. Piecing and quilting used fabric can be a challenge. Heavy cottons make for thick seams. Corduroys have gorgeous textures but they can be slippery to sew. When you combine different weights of fabric the pieces are much less likely to end up marching in precise rows. I like the tilt. I like the way the eye dances across the implied pattern only to return in search of the surprise shape or color that didn't quite fit the assumption.

Maine Rocks

Lately, we walked a shore-side trail belonging to the Harpswell Heritage Land Trust. Along the trail we saw The Giant's Stairs, a geologic feature on the eastern side of Bailey Island resembling a very large flight of steps tumbling down into the sea. The rocks there were full of motion and subtle, glorious color. Now I have to go see how many kinds of gray I can find in my fabric stash.

Art is Where You Find It

My husband and I took a weekend drive up to Greene, Maine. It's a teeny tiny town that was first settled by one of my distant ancestors. Along the way we spotted this retirement sale. The owner was sure that his stuff was worth a lot of money - especially the stuff that had been stored in a vine-encrusted tractor trailer for 20 years. He charged me a dollar to photograph his art. There was certainly a very creative mind at work there.