A heart so big...
"The act of sewing is a process of emotional repair" ~Louise Bourgeois
This work explores stitching as healing. Last year I decided to participate in the drawing a day, Inktober challenge. I didn't mean for it to turn out like this.... but they emerged anyway... a series of characters and personal motifs shaping themselves into a kind of personal visual language telling stories of self, psyche, depression, anxiety and ... hope.
Reworking each motif through stitching , needle pulling thread... magic begins...
There are days when making things is purely about checking in with myself. Needle and thread?... Check. Hook and wool?... Check. Fibre and friction? ...Check.Hammer and anvil?...Check. Lenni?
I stitch...I crochet...I weave...I forge...I felt. My hands, my thoughts and time...something is being done, being made. Making? Transition and transformation. Becoming.
Things emerge as proof...proof that I am still here, proof that I have purpose, proof that I have worth. Strength in every stitch...I can almost see her.
I try to shut out the doubt and the doubters - damn knots, dents, dropped stitches, the fucking blunt scissors! Self- judgement is a cunt - what a waste of time...this is not a real job... this is pointless...no one wants this...this is just crap...what a pile of shit! Tangled, twisted, bent...Stop! Gather, pick up, reinforce...Breathe!
Stitch...despite the distance between myself and me, I find her in the making. Stitch... I run my fingers along the edge of her soul , fold over the seam and stitch.
Strength...stitch...passion....stitch....worthiness...stitch...essence...stitch...self...stitch...
Me?...Check!
Louise Bourgeois once said , "The act of sewing is a process of emotional repair'` ..ain't that the truth? Needle pulling thread ...stitch by stitch....there she is... a heart so big!
This work explores stitching as healing. Last year I decided to participate in the drawing a day, Inktober challenge. I didn't mean for it to turn out like this.... but they emerged anyway... a series of characters and personal motifs shaping themselves into a kind of personal visual language telling stories of self, psyche, depression, anxiety and ... hope.
Reworking each motif through stitching , needle pulling thread... magic begins...
There are days when making things is purely about checking in with myself. Needle and thread?... Check. Hook and wool?... Check. Fibre and friction? ...Check.Hammer and anvil?...Check. Lenni?
I stitch...I crochet...I weave...I forge...I felt. My hands, my thoughts and time...something is being done, being made. Making? Transition and transformation. Becoming.
Things emerge as proof...proof that I am still here, proof that I have purpose, proof that I have worth. Strength in every stitch...I can almost see her.
I try to shut out the doubt and the doubters - damn knots, dents, dropped stitches, the fucking blunt scissors! Self- judgement is a cunt - what a waste of time...this is not a real job... this is pointless...no one wants this...this is just crap...what a pile of shit! Tangled, twisted, bent...Stop! Gather, pick up, reinforce...Breathe!
Stitch...despite the distance between myself and me, I find her in the making. Stitch... I run my fingers along the edge of her soul , fold over the seam and stitch.
Strength...stitch...passion....stitch....worthiness...stitch...essence...stitch...self...stitch...
Me?...Check!
Louise Bourgeois once said , "The act of sewing is a process of emotional repair'` ..ain't that the truth? Needle pulling thread ...stitch by stitch....there she is... a heart so big!