Tag Archives: yoga

Organizing

5 June 2008

I’m organizing my files. I’m thrilled, it sounds crazy but there’s something about getting organized that is very soothing for the soul. I have my office I’m working on and then I’ll conquer the studio garage. Tom and I’ve put some dates down on the calendar for an open house party and some get togethers, so it’ll be even more helpful to get the house in order. A big part of this inspiration is thanks to Alyson B. Stanfield’s I’d Rather Be in the Studio recommended to me by Bonnie Randall Boller. Alyson has a very direct, action-oriented approach, that really helps me become more aware of the excuses I’ve been making.

Another soul-soothing thing I’ve been doing lately is going to Alice Joanou’s Loka Yoga. Besides the great workout, the slowing down and the peace I feel when I’m there, the atmosphere is great as well. It smells really good besides.

There’s always more to write. Earlier, I was shredding 2003 phone bills… I’m going to now change my current phone bill to an electronic version!

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  • Artist statement

    I’m hungry to learn and it’s through my process of creating that I’m ultimately satisfied. I’m curious about different materials and take on the challenge to incorporate what I’m most drawn to into my work. I’m intrigued to discover the resulting patterns and repetition. As I create, I explore my inner landscape. I’m attempting to uncover a stifled sound. It’s my challenge to express this internal voice through my art and ultimately, boldly, out loud.

    My quest to connect my voice with my work has led me to reexamine my personal history. The threads in my bookbinding and in my collage are entwined in my familial roots. Growing up, I remember a quilt frame my dad made, taking up our entire living room. His grandmother taught him to quilt using scraps of clothing. Years later, I began a quilt when a friend was teaching a class on patchwork. To my surprise, cutting up fabric and piecing it back together reminded me of my work with paper collage.

    As a child I would sew with my mom and what I most remember is the guilt I’d feel as I jammed up her machine. Now, when the threads and material bunch up they become useful fodder for my work. In some ways the threads act as a binding element, as in my books, and in other ways they are a reflection of my internal processes.