I of the Needle
Reflections transformed into thread
On display April 1 - May 31 at Lawrence Memorial Library Bristol, Vermont
As a visual artist my birth language has been imagery - expressing my observations and sensations through paint, pencil, brush, paper. Poetry is a recent venture of self-expression for me. One that challenges my vulnerability in its directness. Calls me out of the dark corners of inhibition and into the light of shared experience.
While my studio work tends to be a result of spontaneous gestures, stitching these poems has been quite the opposite. Working from a gridded chart I methodically formed stitched “Xs” in the aida cloth. It sounds tedious, and maybe even boring, but I found myself relaxing into the slow momentum of concentration. There was also the pleasure of watching letters and words form from my needle. My words. My reflections transformed into thread.
What a delightful alchemy - threads of thought emerging from threads of floss. Trailing out poetry on this unlikely medium of cloth. I take pleasure in seeing and reading poetry out of its usual context. Instead, etched into a sidewalk or stones in the woods, painted on a building or litter-strewn alley reminds me of its universality — takes it off its customary position on the page, and puts it smack dab in my path ready for a conversation.
While my studio work tends to be a result of spontaneous gestures, stitching these poems has been quite the opposite. Working from a gridded chart I methodically formed stitched “Xs” in the aida cloth. It sounds tedious, and maybe even boring, but I found myself relaxing into the slow momentum of concentration. There was also the pleasure of watching letters and words form from my needle. My words. My reflections transformed into thread.
What a delightful alchemy - threads of thought emerging from threads of floss. Trailing out poetry on this unlikely medium of cloth. I take pleasure in seeing and reading poetry out of its usual context. Instead, etched into a sidewalk or stones in the woods, painted on a building or litter-strewn alley reminds me of its universality — takes it off its customary position on the page, and puts it smack dab in my path ready for a conversation.
On view at the Birds of Vermont Museum in Huntington through October 2023