An artist residency

I spent the last two weeks at the Hambidge Center for Creative Arts & Sciences, an artist residency program in northeast Georgia in the beautiful Blue Ridge mountains. The center is intentionally rustic, each of eight studios have no wifi and no cell service. There were writers, musicians, painters and ceramic artists there while I attended. We ate together at the Rockhouse pictured here.

My studio, the Son House, was located down the road from the main facility, surrounded by the forest.

I woke up every morning to the pecking of a woodpecker outside my door. My daily schedule included reading, hiking and experimenting. During the first week I spent most of my time hiking. The Center has a number of well marked trails through the woods with streams, waterfalls and overlooks. Just splendid. My phone served as a record keeper of the fantastic textures, details and drama I walked through each day.

We had two days of rain when I was able to focus on my work instead of ambling around in a daze. I did some painting, some origami, some stitching, some drawing, some wrapping. I learned a little about Dynamic Symmetry—the law of natural design based upon the symmetry of growth in man and in plants originally theorized by Jay Hambidge back in the early 20th century. I used his dynamic rectangle diagram as a starting point for these drawings.

I brought my black locust thorns project with me as a meditation. These thorns are very sharp and require concentration and calm when I wrap them. The thread comes from my work. I wrapped a thorn each day. I think I have accumulated about 30 wrapped thorns so far.

Here’s what I learned from this residency:

  • go with no expectations

  • pay attention to the silence

  • work if you are inspired but don’t work if it feels forced

Most of the stitching I did while at Hambidge was a mess. I had to let go of my goal-oriented mindset to be able to find a new rhythm.

I’ll miss the silence in these woods, the fresh mountain air, the emerging life. The experience was a gift to my cluttered mind. It opened up some fresh thoughts.

Books I read while there:

  • The Pioneers: The Heroic Story of the Settlers Who Brought the American Ideal West by David McCullough (18th century pioneers travel down the Ohio river. The politics and policies behind the expansion to the west is told through diaries)

  • The Dry by Jane Harper (a mystery set in drought stricken Australia about an unsolved death of a teenage girl.)

  • Gilead: A Novel by Marilynne Robinson (a moving and intimate letter from an Iowa preacher and father to his son as a last revealing message before he dies)

One of several new forms I made while experimenting with shape.

Packing light?

I pride myself on packing light when traveling. So in preparation for my 2 week stay at the Hambidge Artist Residency in Georgia starting next week I am sorting through what to bring. I have to admit it is keeping me up at night trying to decide. Clothing is easy, supplies for art not so much.

blank canvas

Should I be a minimalist and bring nothing but blank canvas and black thread?

a bag full of cut up quilts

Or, perhaps I should bring a selection of my cut up quilts to reconfigure?

raw materials

Maybe I should concentrate on the nature surrounding me at the retreat and build a new body of work focused on that?

My first impulse was to disassemble and reassemble two quilts into one piece. Cutting things up is always cathartic and revelatory.

extra time to read?

Two weeks of reading and hiking sounds glorious. Can I take a break from making art?

Or maybe this is the perfect time to sit down and figure out exactly why I do this work? No stitching allowed?

This may be one of those times when packing light won’t work. I’ll just bring fewer clothes so that there is room in the car for the toys. Ready or not…

A residency at the Virginia Center for Creative Arts

Let me tell you about a great experience. I was invited to the Virginia Center for Creative Arts in Amherst, Virginia for a 3-week residency. It turned my head around.

Here is a sampling of the things I saw and did.

The Campus

The Studio

New friends

My work

There was drama

That’s a ten bladed chain saw hanging from a helicopter that the railroad used to trim trees on their tracks. It traveled up and down those utility wires and the train tracks for two days. You could see those blades spinning. It sounded and looked apocalyptic.

The result

Surrounded by serious artists of all stripes I could not help but work all day and into the nights. The focus on serious pursuit of the work makes all the difference. We all toiled, we all celebrated each other, we all felt sheltered and honored. Did I mention three meals a day? I recommend this. Find a space that allows complete focus. Find other serious artists with whom to share the experience. Work hard and enjoy the privilege.

New beginnings, a refreshed spirit.

edges

Yesterday I spent most of the day walking the beach and dunes. Meandering through the sand hills at the lakeside started me thinking about edges. How edges define space and separate reality. How edges can offer opportunities for growth. How they keep people out. How they keep things in. They define borders and populations, they define differences.  

On this side of the shore the dunes ramble into the water, on the other side the city builds its muscle. 

On this side of the shore the dunes ramble into the water, on the other side the city builds its muscle. 

beachcombing

Edges create tension and stop the blurring of lines. They offer entry into newness and sharpen the soft. They show the worn and messy. They collect the extraneous. They repel the unnecessary. They expose what might not be seen otherwise.

Dunes restoration fence

mapping a miracle

Yesterday I took three walks at the Indiana Dunes National Lakeshore. One to the dunes, one through a marsh and one on the beach. I recommend them all to those who question the value of preserving national parks.

I met a scientist from India on this path. He was amazed by the treasure of it.

I met a scientist from India on this path. He was amazed by the treasure of it.

Textures and color create tempting avenues for exploration. How might I stitch this pattern?

Textures and color create tempting avenues for exploration. How might I stitch this pattern?

The sounds in this marshland were primordial:gurgling gallumps, screeching squeals, twittering clicks and clacks. The sounds of new life.

The sounds in this marshland were primordial:gurgling gallumps, screeching squeals, twittering clicks and clacks. The sounds of new life.

This park is a skinny shard of what it could have been. Having just finished a book called Sacred Sands, the Struggle for Community at the Indiana Dunes by J. Ronald Engel, I am amazed that there is anything left at all. Between the push for steel mills and power stations, deep water ports and railroads this skinny little strip was mangled, disfigured and mined for its riches. Even the district politicians in 1966 were against having a national lakeshore designation citing the economic benefits that the industry brought to the state. Hanging by threads to the remaining ecosystems the park managers focus on biodiversity and preserving what remains.

The park is a patchwork of geometry striated with roads.

I applaud the efforts of the band of devoted citizens, both in the past and present who see the value of preserving this wonderland.