It proves that the use of the stitch ties us to the past and is part of our everyday life. I would love to be able to interpret that in fabric, but its a little beyond me right now.
However, the fabric I bought in Nepal is being used in a very different way this week. I call it painting with cloth and its just perfect for my quilt, ‘Finding Frida’ It has nothing to do with Nepal, its Mexican inspired…… or then again does it?
2 months on the road and I have told it in images. Its been a creative and at times a very difficult time but I’ve come into contact with so many wonderful people in several countries.
In Denver people were asked to donate a blanket with a small story attached to it. The Artist Marie Watt’s work is centered around community, particularly through her use of wool blankets. As with many of her projects, she looks for blankets that hold meanings and memories. The blankets donated are folded and stacked to create a blanket sculpture. As part of donating a blanket to this project, there is a tag attached to the blanket documenting the particular story.
Its 6.41 pm on Friday and I’ve not had time to write a blog for over a week.  My heart and hands just wouldn’t cooperate or should I say coordinate. I’ve had a limit on the time I’ve had for leisure and luxury and that’s what I need to be able to write the blog. Having…
My personal view is that every person that creates something is an artist. An Artist is a collector of imaginings and experiences. They are selective and only collect the things they enjoy the most and it really depends where you put yourself to receive those things… you’re not necessarily going to get the experience or be influenced if you are home on the couch.
He doesn’t have a fancy studio, he doesn’t have electricity or even a roof over his head but he sits day by day on the side of a busy road in the dust and the smog of continuous stream of traffic spewing black smoke into the atmosphere as it passes by.
On our last day in Kathmandu we had some free time so friends Ginger and Rose and I took a walk around the area of our hotel.
Just a few doors from the hotel we came across an amazing compound. I brought forth the most amazing surprise.
It’s dusty light and extremely colorful. There are no pavements on the outer ring roads, the bitumen ends and dirt begins. The sounds of horns and crows blend. There seems to be a huge amount of buses in proportion to other vehicles and to heck with health and safety, they are packed to capacity.
The air was crisp and a heavy cloud of dew settled over all who ventured out. The sun produced an orange glow to everything and it can be the most difficult time to photograph and also the most exciting because of the interesting light. We met, for the first time as a group on that walk, sharing conversation with each other, and also some of he locals who’s smile would welcome you with friendliness.
Women in cars, buses and carriages of all kinds descended on the town on Friday but they didn’t come empty handed. Quilts for show and tell, coolers full of cheeses and wine and other dietary ‘necessities’ and the stories unwound as the conversation flowed.
