Art as emotion

The Standard Size: Letting Art Be Art

| ellenanneeddy

I was talking with a dear friend this week, over the holidays and we discussed all of our new work. I’ve been unable to leave the visual/vertical paths alone this year. She told me she had been working on smaller things. We’re both of an age. Wailing a huge quilt through a sewing machine is past aerobic. But it occurred to me: We only make bed size art quilts because we still think of them as quilts. Shows define them as bed coverings/ linens. We make them as art. But we are still restrained when we show them to think in terms of bed sizes.

That’s simply awkward. What I make warms from the wall visually. It’s not made to be lain on. Metallic thread will vigorously defend itself from anyone who wants to use it on a blanket. So will organza, or stabilizer, or angelina fiber. When I make a quilt, it’s made for someone to snuggle into. It’s pretty. But it’s made to be a bed linen. When I make a tapestry, it’s made to glorify the wall.

Just practically, it’s sort of hard to find a queen size wall to hang an art quilt on. The standard bed sizes are made for beds. I see nothing wrong with that. But I look forward to the day when we understand that excellence is not measured in size, that standard size only works for some things, and that a piece of art always is measured by it’s impact, not by following size requirements. And that normal is a setting strictly on the drier.

We may have come to that, one by one as art quilters , fiber artists, and contemporary quilters. I’ve always skirted the world as a quilter. I work in, three layers ( at least) sewn together, so I fit under that description.

Art is not about practicality. It is about seeing and building the beauty in our lives. Sometimes our lives are our art. We build our lives in ways that make us whole, make us sound, make others happy, make us strong, whole, and joyous. Sometimes our art is our life: those moments where we live and breathe in what we can make visual out of imagination and the things around us. But either way, they are our birthright. We are artists just by way of being human. We do art, as we can when we can. But we are artists because we live and breathe in a world we impact with what we see, what we dream and what we do.

For this next year, I wish your art to kindle the fire of hope, creation, joy, passion and warmth. Without needing to fit any standard size or expected purpose. I hope you art shines just as it is, just as you are. Just as we all are. In Imagine Dei.

Body Blocked: And Now for Something Completely Different

| ellenanneeddy
With Friends in the studio

I finished four quilts this week. Partially for the joy of it, Partially to fill the time.

  • Swirling Leaves
  • Butterfly Pond
  • Ginko Butterfly
  • Heron Pond
  • Heron Pond Detail

My body is betraying me. I have an infection in my replaced knee and we’re going to have to clean it out, let it heal and replace the knee. It’s a three month process.

Can I quilt? I don’t know. The question is, can I walk into the car and the studio. We’ll find out. We don’t know.

I hate the words, ‘We don’t know.’

What I know is that time forced away from your creative flow doesn’t stop it. It finds a way. Through quilts, through words, through my hands, through my dreams, through my prayers.

We came back from the surgeon who told us that instead of doing surgery now, we need to wait until January 19th. More we don’t know. And waiting for the covid vaccine.

If you’re a praying person pray. If not spare me a good thought. I guess the first trial is the wait. Thanks!

More Serieous Work: Herons and Walking on Water

| ellenanneeddy
943-20 Heron Pond

I remember the first time I saw a heron land on a pond. I watched it fold itself out of flight and land floating, tidied. You couldn’t imagine from it’s folded form, the shadow of it coming into land. Fierce and lovely, Of course I fell in love.

Eerie Street, Chicago

But that was not my first love. When scientists started to declare that birds were dinosaurs, I roared up in agreement. The only thing as fierce as a heron is a dinosaur! And the resemblance is striking. I’m a believer.

Lady Blue

Part of why I celebrate dinosaurs, and herons, and their survivors is that I see myself as a survivor. We all are. Living means that, so far, you’ve survived life. And time gives us a space to unpack that and understand a little the gifts we’ve been given.

Fall Stream

They aren’t always pretty. Survival can be a messy business. But it reminds me that I have strength and swiftness, if not in my body in my mind. I can be lovely even in my fierceness, if I choose to use it well.

Daylily Pond

And if I am a dinosaur of sorts, my survival, my ability to go on is strength in itself. I am grateful.

Where the Heart is

And I’m going to need it. I’m probably having my right knee replaced again, due to an infection. If I can’t walk, I should be able to fly. I’m related to the Pteranodons, thru my mother’s side. I can survive anything.

Art-Life. Life-Art

| ellenanneeddy

Leafing
Leafing

It’s been a while since I’ve blogged anything. There are times when you live your art. There are times when your art is an effort to live your life. I think most artists swing between those two points. With all the changes coming down, I’m hung somewhere between packing and planning. The art there is the art of putting it all into a box.

 

 

 

don and iFor those who’ve missed the punchline. I’m getting married, November 21st, to Don Bowers, a dear friend from college who somehow, miraculously has become my love. And I’m moving to Galesburg, IL.

wedding inviteAt that point, I need to pack up and move my home and studio and plan a wedding. At 62.

I’d given up. I’d given up so often I could have written a book on giving up. Surprise.

Will I still teach? Yes if I’m asked. So ask. Will I still do my art? How do any of us stop doing are art? Art is not a process. It’s a by-product of an artist’s life. As we live we express ourselves in many ways. Art is just part of the expression.

What is today’s task? Emptying the dead and quite scary freezer to make room for the new one. There’s art for you. Bring out your dead. Find what’s still living. Hand the rest to Mo.

herculeTangentially, we’re having a mouse problem. The mice are a problem. Mo, the munificent and very messed up 14 year old cat is doing his best to show me that he is a magnificent mouser. I just wish he would stop putting them in the kitchen and in my bed. I always wanted breakfast in bed, but please. Not while it’s still warm.

I’ve had the privilege of sharing so much of my life with you all. It seems strange not to. So I’ll be writing a bit about this as I move, make room for the changes, start to merge with someone in a strange space.  We are all artists, by genome, by birthright. And sometimes our lives are simply the art of trying to make sense of our lives.

If you’d like more information about the wedding, please check our web site on The Knot.  If we had a failure of mail or brain pressure and you need to be with us on that day, let us know and we’ll put out more fudge for you. (Yes. I made ten batches). And if you have a moment, say a prayer for us. It’s a lot of changes.