Monday, May 23, 2016

Time is the Most Valuable Commodity

I have been selling my time, as Kurt Vonnegut described having a job. I am working for the census, which has sucked up an enormous amount of energy and my precious time. I haven't had much time to stitch even, but I have completed the white porpoise, complete with unseemly breasts. I wonder if Louis Nicolas actually saw a real woman's breast, being a priest and all. His image is like a naughty school boy's, but I am pretty sure he was trying to be scientific.
Continuing in the realm of biology, hundreds of tiny golden spiders appeared on my jasmine the other day, rappelling up and down their silken threads. The next day they were gone, leaving a puff of gossamer web and the jasmine unharmed.
 I have started stitched the great whale - just working on the spout right now, and her Cleopatra eye.
So much is calling for my attention these days: work, dogs, garden, art. I have an unscheduled day off and was ready to fly out the door and down to Victoria to see the Scottish Diaspora Tapestry, which I only found out this morning is on tour across Canada! That didn't work out after all, but I will go on Saturday before the exhibition closes.

This too might make it into an embroidery:
"You are born alone. You die alone. The value of the space in between is trust and love." - Louise Bourgeois

Saturday, May 07, 2016

The Vacuuming Can Wait

La Maison de Louise Bourgeois (2016). Hand embroidery on vintage linen, 24"x 16"
About a week ago I read this article about Louise Bourgeois's New York house, which has been turned into a museum. Apparently it has been kept as she left it:

A sense that at any moment Bourgeois might walk through the door is heightened by the atmosphere of bohemian dilapidation: Surely this place is in no shape to be seen by anyone other than its owner. Crude patchwork testifies to the cave-in of a plaster ceiling. A two-burner gas hot plate that fills in for a stove and an ancient television that stands next to a small metal folding chair further the impression of a home not ready to receive company. “I’m using the house,” she told a visitor, when she was in her mid-70s. “The house is not using me.”
As soon as I read that line, I thought "I must make that into a sampler." And I did, putting aside all the tidying and organizing that needs to be done before my new roommate arrives next Thursday. I hope she understands.

The piece went directly into a new show at Twin Beaches Gallery featuring many of the textile artists on Gabriola. I'll post pictures of the show soon!

Sunday, May 01, 2016

La Petite Balene

 La petite balene, or the small whale, is done. She's quite the girl, with her wing-like flippers, powerful waterspout, and, yes, breasts. Louis Nicolas made a detailed mention in his notes of how the whale's young would cling to her bosom as they swam. At that time (late 17th C.), whales were just becoming recognized as mammals and distinct from fish.
Her teeth are unusually square, yet fearsome all the same. She's half the size of the other whale in the piece, whose magnificence I will tackle after a couple more small critters, the seal and the porpoise.