Several years ago I went to the Bellevue Art Museum and was captivated by an interactive wall of textiles. The colors and patterns were amazing. The end result would be the collective vision of thousands of people who strolled into the Imagination Station (display), sat for a spell, and contributed to the weave. How cool is that?
The allure of this craft stayed with me for weeks, as I'm all about fabric, patterns and color. So over the period of several months I collected different yarns, fabrics and anything else that looked remotely curious.
My anchors were two long pieces of driftwood my son and I found on Double Bluff about ten years ago that we used for walking sticks. I secured rows of hemp between them and started to weave. What a beautiful process - like knitting on steroids. I didn't plan anything, just chose the colors and got to work. My hands were on autopilot, and the rhythm cathartic. I was completely present in the moment, similar to when I have a camera in my hands.
Different objects found their way into the weave. Two old collars, a leash and a tug-o-war sheet from my sweet Sparky, who I had lost the summer before. Long shards of bark from two cedars I planted 12 years ago that had to be taken down unexpectedly. And a jangling testimony to half a century of my life - jewelry, pins, oddities and baubles collected over the years.
What started out as an experiment resulted in a deeply cherished and personal work of art. What a nice surprise. :)
