A Japan Residency

This line: “the long winged arrows of thought”
and this phrase: “heroic clutter”
and this: ”there are stories in the air as thick as birds.”

all come from the book Mink River by Brian Doyle. I wrote them down while reading so that I could come back to those thoughts while working.

I’m in Japan, having just finished a four week residency. Studio:Kura has three houses with studios in Itoshima. We were in House One. There were five of us: Ruby Silvious, Lucy Zhang, Nancy Yoshii, Caroline Kampfraath and myself. Each day began with a walk through the surrounding rice and vegetable fields. Then several hours of drawing or stitching in the studio. Lunch with fellow artists, another hour or two of work, then sunset at the beach. Ruby took on the role of chef each night, I was sous chef. Every so often we would go to the grocery store a couple of train stops away, or do some sightseeing with some local friendly guides. Other than those occasions we were all working artists.

My studio with the beginning of the paper scroll. The final scroll measures about 15 feet.

The isolation gave me the perfect opportunity to practice working without forethought in an environment that challenged my usual habits. Nothing was familiar. I felt detached, wandering. I spent the time not thinking about the day to day, not planning, not trying. My focus was on responding to what was around me. I was actively engaged in the process. I let fleeting images become concrete. I abandoned the sewing machine that was available to concentrate more fully on a paper scroll. In the end I could have packed all the supplies I needed in a small case. Needle, thread, some bits of fabric, a pen, and a paper scroll.

The bird at the top of the boulder was there every night during the sunset. Every so often he spoke to me.

The residency ended with a gallery show. This video shows the works of four of the five artists that lived in the same building. We had a great turnout.

I’m still in Japan, now touring Dasaifu and Fukuoka and the surrounding towns. The shrines, the food, the clothing, the graphic design aesthetic all pile up in my mind. I eat fish and rice. Sleep with new dreams. The stories in the air are as thick as birds.

I wanted to challenge myself

And, it worked.

Itoshima, Japan

A month-long residency in a rural area of Japan (Itoshima, Studio:Kura) has challenged, inspired and poked me into uncharted territory. I had hoped that the studio would have a sewing machine that I could use. And they do. But. It is a bit of a nuisance to use it and that blocks me from doing the work that I am most comfortable doing. At first I thought I could conquer any machine. If this one was going to be a brat I would tame it to my ways.

My Studio: Kura studio.

You know when children decide to put on a tantrum show it is best to just walk away until they calm themselves. It was me having the tantrum and I realized that this was the first step to being challenged during my time here. That’s what I did. I stepped away from the machine.

I’ve done some hand stitching with colors that are unfamiliar to my hands.

I’ve done some cut paper experiments based on the principle of Notan.

And I have a 25 ft. long roll of rice paper that I have been drawing on. The drawing is about 8 foot long today and continues to grow. The drawing takes me to another dimension and allows me to think.

A detail shot of the 8 ft long rice paper drawing done at Studio:Kura.

I’m almost halfway through the four week stay in this lovely and inspiring place. I thought I might come up with some grand revelations by now. Maybe tomorrow.

Today the scroll is 8 feet long. How long will it be in November? I am thinking about how time is condensing and life is short. I know that I will not see everything there is to see before my end. My art reflects the thoughts and images I cannot put into words.

This beach is about a block away from my studio. This is all I really need in life—a way to see the beauty of the earth itself. It takes my breath away.

Travel Plans

By the time you read this I will be soaring across the midwestern plains to land in Denver. Hurricane Francine notwithstanding. Though I love to travel and meet new people, see new things, breathe new air, I hate the insanity that flying is in these times. Long lines (usually at 5am if you’re from Memphis), cramped quarters, sneezing and coughing passengers. I wear a mask from the moment I get into the airport to the minute I leave the baggage claim.

I’m leaving this unfinished experiment in pattern and color on my design board. It is made from pieces of found fabrics and a discarded quilt top from an unknown artist. It reminds me of the way my mind collects flotsam while walking.

Nonetheless, I persist. This time in a marathon. First stop the Front Range Contemporary Quilters in Denver, then a side trip to Santa Fe, NM, then a week in Taos teaching with Diane Ericson at the Design Outside the Lines retreat, then home for a day to prepare for the next flight. To Japan for an artist residency at Studio:Kura in the Fukuoka Prefecture’s Itoshima Municipality. For five weeks.

I am leaving a beautiful season in Memphis. Fall, with its colors, crisp air and shortening days is an inspiring time of the year. I will witness this autumn in three different places this year. I wonder how they will differ.

Stay tuned for updates on this marathon. I will try to post pics as I travel on.

This is the first sort for my retreat in Japan. When I am at an artist residency my challenge is to bring less and respond to my surroundings with simple tools. I may edit some of this out.

A work in progress

I watch the road beneath my feet for inspiration as I walk. Asphalt cracks mended with black tarlike paint strokes, crabgrass breaking the surface of sidewalks, crumbling edges being eaten by the undergrowth, worms crawling across the surface in search of water and safety. My phone pics have an endless catalog of the earth pushing back and the impermanence of our effect on nature. Here’s a couple of pics I took on my morning walk of some roadway paint wearing away. The forms and line were the inspiration behind this month’s experiments.

Starting with a blank piece of cotton canvas I stitched in some of those lines I saw on the street. The wool batting beneath that top layer of canvas gave me a billowing effect. It seemed to swell the fabric. I emphasized the swelling with tight parallel lines of stitching in thread that matched the fabric color. Then I added a strong double thick line of stitching around the billowing forms.

The tightly stitched surface gave me space to add active linework, color and cartoon. I used watered down India ink to emphasize the red and yellow dotted elements. The contrast between the tight stitching and the billowing foreground added depth. This shows the ink in a wet stage. It dried lighter overall.

Several stages of layered stitch later I have detailed, complicated patterning. When I added the pale blue boxes as a new layer of information they didn’t stand out enough so I added fill and a black outline to reinforce them.

Below is a progression series showing the layering of stitch that transformed the surface of the cloth.

At this stage I am wondering just how much more I can add before the needle won’t go through the cloth properly. I may have to wait a bit to decide. I may stuff the billowing parts even more. I may do more hand stitching. All in all it was a good experiment and I may do this again on a larger piece.

It’s a study in what lies beneath.