Of all the seasons here in New England, Spring requires the most patience. This year Mother Nature teased us with unseasonably warm days in January….and then slammed us with a series of Nor’Easters in March. We had over 2 feet of snow dumped on us in less than two weeks!
During one of those blizzards, Letter L blew off the tree where it had been weathering in situ along with letters OV ands E. I’ve been patiently waiting for the huge snow drift to melt. And when it finally did… look what I found!
These indigo dyed weavings are part of on-going experiments that I’m doing with my woven fabrics. Recently, I have been curious about the aging and weathering processes of my textiles. For years I resisted these changes by framing, scotch-guarding and protecting my works from sunlight, dust and humidity. Now I am consciously subjecting pieces to wind, water rust and sunlight.
I find this intentional abuse and breaking down of my “precious” fabrics confronts my own attachment to permanence and my futile attempts to stop the aging process within my own body.
If anything, these weathering and aging processes require patience. Patience is a skill that I have honed over decades. Both as a weaver and mediator, I have learned to be comfortable in the slow, methodical techniques that comprise the textiles arts.
Now, as I watch the receding snow piles and the budding crocuses, I am comfortable in this waiting-space. Waiting for Spring, witnessing the metamorphosis of nature and blossoming creativity.