Remembering Place

So, I've had this thing lately.  It's this spontaneous remembering thing.  Not like I've forgotten something and now can recall it.  It's more of a 'favorites' thing.  I all of a sudden, spontaneously remember a place that I have traveled to, a person. an activity.  Mostly though it is my old journeys I remember, out of the blue.
This is all OK with me, even if I am bothered by the why of it.  Why would some old experience with place jump into my mind?  Why some places and not others?  What is the point and meaning of this kind of remembering?

Like I said though, I don't really mind.  It's like getting to visit these places again and again.  It's like a happy little surprise when all of the sudden my mind's eye shows me the section of highway 395 between Bridgeport and Walker, California.  The specific spots I've visited so many times over the years.  That spot in the road, on the right, just perfect for pulling over, the quick crunch of tires on roadside gravel.  The mountains rising up, sharp on the left side of the road and the Walker river on the right.  The smell of the cool air filled with pinons, sage brush, wild flowers and mountain water.  A place to let a dog out for a minute, stretch your legs and chuck a few rocks in the water below.  A place for photographs and laughter.  Each time noticing the difference in the water level or if parts are frozen over.  Through old and new relationships and configurations of travelers, this spot remains in my heart.
Or, backtracking a little, there is the moment in the road leaving Bridgeport where the tall white house on the left stands, just as it has for over a century, alone, surrounded by cottonwood trees.  Two stories of strength and stories, it's back to the ranch land it owns, cows meandering in the pasture.  The split rail fences along here barely stand after so many years, but continue to do their job of persuading the cattle to remain on the alfalfa and off the asphalt.  This area is snowbound come winter, but in my mind it is always the green of spring.  So much promise is held here that it is no wonder the early settlers set up their home that would last for generations.  This house and land held the dreams of a young me, back in the day when I thought I'd raise my family on a big piece of land like this.


Then there is the hike in Joshua Tree National Park.  The one we thought was going to be short, due to misreading the trail head map.  The one that ended up being a quick, steep rise in elevation and then a twisting decent into a long winding roller coaster of a trail ending at an oasis.  Having never been to an 'oasis', we push on.  Every step in the carved out rock stairs filled with pain.  Every step in the dry earth a dust cloud kicked up by leaden feet.  Yet, every yard a victory over self.  And every mile holding another wonder, be it creature, flora, rock or view.  Over and over this hike visits me.  Beckons me.  I'm hoping that I am in better shape now than then.  I hope to be in even better shape the day I take on the desert trail once more.  Until then I relish these memories.  I hold them gently in my heart as the fragile treasure they are.

Heading back down, I've conquered the mountain!

There are other places in Joshua Tree that I hold dear.  Other places that return to me in odd moments, just as there are other places in the United States, other people I have known, things I have done that make up this life thus far.  All of them bits in my mosaic, threads in my tapestry, adding meaning to my ordinary life.  I value them all.

*Note: I am still having photograph/computer issues.  Until they are resolved, I will use old photos, more words and other creative solutions to post here.  Thank you for bearing with me.

Photos by NAE @pomegranatetrail ©2011

Old Work

The Faucet Painting

A variety of fibers, beads etc.

 I have been planning on posting some of my old           work.  These are a variety of pieces I have created over the past several years or so.  Some cloth is included, but in different ways, not just as in quilts.  Most quilts I've made have been given away long ago.  See, that's the thing for me, it seems to be much more about the process than the product.  Actually, now that I think about it, most of all of my work has been given away.
Except for the Christmas stockings I made for about ten years...those I sold!
These are some of the pieces that have hung around for one reason or another.

The faucet painting came about in one of those serendipitous moments in the local hardware store when my eyes fell upon that faucet and I said, "I think I need that!"  Some paint, cheesecloth, fiber, beads, sequins, wire...and TA-DA!  The process was lots of 'what-ifing' and no plan whatsoever.  Just pure fun!  This is the one piece of mine that has been in an exhibit, which was a proud experience.
I've had lots of other ideas to add to my 'hardware series'.

This little scene was part of a collage class I took at my local community college.  The assignment was to bring in a box and something old.  I used one of the unfinished CD crates and a large piece of bark that came from a small stump I'd had on my porches for over ten years.  One day the whole piece fell off.  Ahhh...yes just what I needed!  My instructor brought in some other pieces of 'old' that we could use.  Part of the process I really enjoy is the problem-solving.  I did not use to be that way.
I did not know about patience and deep breaths.
I had great mentor once who taught me so much about problem-solving.  I think that is why I treasure it so, good memories are brought to mind.
As they say, "When the student is ready, the teacher will come".

Sometimes ideas just POP...right into my head!  Story: Nancy has a mask.  She thinks to cover it with fabric..."Hey!"  she thinks...that starry night fabric.  Cool.  Nancy has some left-over clear tubing and springs...
Boing Boing Boing...
 ...add some beads and plug the ends.  Wa-La ...there she is!

This last piece (for today's post) is a quilted wall hanging.  It was inspired by tragedy.   In January of 2005 I was home sick...lying on the couch and feeling cruddy and listening to the pouring rain - again and again, day after day.  Then on the afternoon of January 10th the daily broadcast news filled with the story of La Conchita.  I knew this little beach town from my long commute each work day.  I had even tried to rent a little duplex there.

I couldn't believe my eyes.

For days I watched the story unfold.  The amount of loss was too much to bear, yet I could not stop watching.  I didn't know these families, but I felt as if they were my neighbors.  

I was compelled to create something.  I entertained only the most basic thoughts.  Ideas represented by simple shapes and appropriate fabric I had on hand.  I employed familiar techniques, those used in the past.
  I was motivated by an unexplainable need to do this.   
Now.

I grabbed fabric to represent the massive amount of mud.  The very green hillside.  The clouds and rain.  The rain.  Broken houses.  Emergency workers and their trucks.  Ambulances.  Outhouses.  Newscasters.  Community members.  And even Jimmy Wallet on the hill, searching frantically for his family.  I had to capture it all.

Right now.

Here is a link for a brief film about La Conchita. 
For some reason I could not embed it tonight.  But watching this and possibly other videos really brings the drama home.

I didn't even realize until someone months later commented that my stitches all flowed down.

  Just like the mud had.

What I looked at as a way to help hold down all of the pieces...my crazy 100 MPH sewing machine lines screaming over poorly fused and deeply meaningful symbols...she saw as symbolic of the flow of mud.  Is that working intuitively?  I placed these pieces based on the repeated airplay of the tragic scenes, but I was not wholly conscience of my every move.  The creation just flowed, as did the mud, as did my tears.

Over at Grace's there has been a dialog going about context.  Some of the comments reminded me of the way it was for me working on these pieces.  I may begin with an idea and execute it as I saw it in my head or it may evolve to become something completely different.  I may not even have an idea!  I don't know that I really care which way it happens.  As long as I am in the flow...I'm good!

Photos by NAE @pomegranatetrail ©2011

You Are Worth The Time

                                               
I found this video a long time ago, somewhere...I don't remember where.  But it spoke to me in a very good and deep way.

There have been so many conversations recently about why we do what we do in regards to art, to creation.  I remembered this video that I have been inspired by in the past.

PLUS I think I learned how to embed videos here and I am so excited!

This video was created by Jan Phillips, so in proper Blogland form, follow the link to her site!

I would like to just add that I love her photography (ohhh those photos of elders...Mmmm) and her personal mark, the Spiral Hand.  Way cool!

Sit back, relax and enjoy... In fact I think I'll watch with you!  :)  sigh

When Things Line Up

Photo by NAE @pomegranatetrail ©2011

Don't you love it when things fall into place all by themselves?  Don’t you love to celebrate the serendipitous quality of life?! While looking through fabrics for Jude Hill's Whispering Hearts class in April, I found an old pillowcase from well over 20 years ago.  The case itself is even older as it had once belonged to a great aunt.  It is bright yellowing white, softer than it has a right to be and it holds a familiar scent that has remained unchanged all of these years.  I embroidered the moon and stars when my daughter was very young and she slept with this soft comfort for many, many years of her childhood.  Since I was focused on hearts, I spent a moment remembering and then tucked the pillowcase away again.  I began to see hearts everywhere.

On bread tags

On the back of cars

Extra threads from my mother's sewing box

A co-workers hand

Now, May has brought me once again to a class with Jude: Whispering Sun Moon and Stars.  And I think once again of that old soft cotton case, embracing its sudden reappearance.  I just may use it in the very near future!