AS A STUDIO ARTIST, I resonate with the quiet of long days in the solitude of my home studio; dyeing silks, printing, stitching, building collages in both fabrics and paper. As a teaching artist, I cherish the hours spent in busy art rooms stirring up colorful ideas with the same materials—miraculously activated by the exuberance of youth. I believe making art to be essential and that it should be accessible. I teach workshops for adults, offer residencies for school-aged children, and seek out collaborative community based projects that engage many ages and points of view. When joined by a larger circle of makers, my own ideas expand and this becomes fuel for new works.
AS A TEXTILE ARTIST, I reside firmly in the realm of collage in which there are infinite possibilities to add and subtract shapes, colors, textures and patterns. I use the stitch as my primary drawing tool. I use fabric and paper as surfaces on which I can land ideas. Dye, ink, words, and thread are my constant companions. I take inspiration from the natural world. I listen to children. There is enormous library of translucency found in the sky, in the land, in our dwellings, and in our daily conversations with each other. Some of the looking, some of the listening winds up in my studio.
I GREW UP decoding my world through cloth. Long ago I learned to cut, attach, pierce, color, and repeat. I love cloth because it consistently offers me a highly sensual and sensitive field on which to play. Fabric is strong—strong enough to hold metal, quiet enough to remember a whisper, loud enough to carry a shout. Wise enough to answer in metaphor.
I CANNOT THINK well without thread and needle nearby. There are moments when a vintage map, a neglected piece of sheet music, or maybe an old letter needs to be introduced to a wild drawing or to some fine handmade paper. Perhaps some silk organza slips in. Scissors get involved. Glue and thread meet. Stories are told.
ACTIVATING SPACE by occupying a large wall or a room with multiples are challenges I have enjoyed exploring over the years. Textiles have an ancient history of holding deep intimacies in the warp and weft of their construction. They can also cartwheel into large monuments. I believe that some ideas need light pouring through them. Working in pojagi (Korean patchwork) has allowed me to play with the architecture of light and line while collaborating with words, images and other artists. Making a 24 foot-long book, totems, and silk strings holding tiny collages are other efforts that seek to reveal evidence of our collective vitality.