Pick-up Game

A pick-up game in baseball, and in other sports as well, is an impromptu game of players that are there at the moment of play.  There can be some fairly random participants.  It is not a serious endeavor, rather, something played and enjoyed at that moment.  Really, just play.

Even though I posed this challenge, I had no idea of how I would approach it.  After weeks of mulling, going to my studio and tidying, which is my practice when I'm looking for inspiration.  As my husband tells me "Go play in your fabric".  It worked!

It occurred to me that I should approach this as I were to invent a game.  Taking only fabric from my scrap bin, I challenged myself to create a playful piece.

It was great fun.  A bit like a archeological dig, truth be told.  I uncovered bits large and small that I hardly recognized...old friends.  Some of my hand-dyed, some discharged, vintage, African, Australian Aboriginal designs, and Japanese.   All right there in the bin.  No wonder my granddaughter has such fun playing in it.

Playing with Scraps 18" x 27"

Baseball

Baseball: Swing for the fences

Baseball, you say?

Well, here we are a team of 9, in the 9^th inning, ending this cycle of our challenges to each other.

Baseball began in the United States before the 1840’s and by the 1880’s was beginning to be played in many other countries.  Today it is played internationally, is an Olympic sport and every summer draws youngsters from around the world to baseball’s Little League World Series in Williamsport PA.

I think the metaphor “plays well with one’s team” describes each of us.  Further, each of our cycles has a pitcher, a team that alternately goes to bat, and a really fine Player/Manager/Coach in Martha Wolfe.

I challenge you to playfully go to bat.  Bases are loaded and you’ve got nothing to loose and everything to win.  Swing for the fences, my friends, and PLAY.

Fiberwonk Recalls ENIAC

My father was a taciturn statistician.  A time and motion expert in the US military.  I recall the wonderment in my father's voice when he described his trip upon returning from a secret destination.  Somewhere in the US there was a  huge cavern under a mountain.  We knew that.  We didn't know where.  He would tell us about huge machines housed there that could figure out everything.  He lit our imaginations telling us how wonderful our world would be when we were adults and had kids of our own.

Now we know a bit more.  Not the details. But we do know he was talking about the late 1940's first Electronic Numerical Integrator and Computer financed by the US Army.

We can all relate to how incredible the prospects must have seemed (and still do) at the potential for artificial intelligence.  As interesting is the potential in the stories and ideas told to small children by their parents.  Those tales generated such curiosity in us, his four children, that each studied mathematics and three went on to life-long careers.  Fortunately he lived to know that.

As for potential:  I really do think that words spoken to small children REALLY do make a difference.  Yes, actions too.  But those stories that are replayed in little people's heads are very powerful.

Fiberwonk Recalls ENIAC
Commercial cottons, found objects.  18" x 18"

Forecast: Hot and Dry

 Thank you, Hsin-Chen for this wonderful challenge.

Forecast: Hot and Dry is a lament for the farmers of the Sacramento River Valley and us all.

This piece is made with both commercial and hand-dyed, painted, stamped and inked cottons.  Machine and hand stitched.

Forecast: Hot and Dry

Detail of artist-cut block, printed and stitched

Lin Hsin-Chen's Challenge

I have never believed in coincidences. just like one of my favorite detectives, Tony Hillerman's Joe Leaphorn.  Detective Leaphorn, who is Navajo, is also a veteran  detective for the Navajo Tribal Police and later in his career he is known as the 'Legendary Lieutenant", due to his ability to solve cases....never assuming those interesting coincidences are relevant.

Which brings me to Climate Change.  Coincidences?  Rising sea levels.  Warming oceans, Radically changing jet streams.  Melting poles.  Really?  Coincidence: ROT!

The day Hsin-Chen posted her Challenge about the Environment and Climate Change, 'coincidently', was the very same time span that I found my long-ago maternal grandfather's obituary AND within minutes on the news was a documentary on the horrors awaiting the Sacramento Valley Farmers (and us all) with the current extended period without rain.

My grandfather Richard C DeWitt's father was an original settler in Sutter County, Sacramento Valley, CA.  The extended family (five brothers) farmed and ranched around the Sutter Buttes (US's smallest mountain range according to my university geology professor) for generations.

With all these 'coincidences' I was inspired!  WAY ahead of schedule I have completed my Challenge on Climate Change.  Of course, I can't share it until Oct 27...what I will share is my label, waiting to be cut out and applied.

One of the other reasons I am so far ahead of my usual procrastinations is that, at the time you read this, I will be on a cultural exchange in Turkey from Oct 12-Oct 26!

Viewpoints 9 Exhibitions

Viewpoints 9 is pleased to announce a special exhibition of contemporary fiber art selected from each of the original 2012 and 2013 challenges. Exhibits will be held at the Pennsylvania National Quilt Extravaganza XXI, September 18-21, 2014 and Quiltfest Oasis Palm Springs, October 2-4, 2014. 

To learn more about the artwork in the exhibition, visit www.Viewpoints9.blogspot.com.

Cosmos

Like many women my age, I was taught to stitch even before I could thread a needle.  I have clear recollections of stitching a bit of embroidery to my pant leg when I was five. 

Over the years, hand stitching more than satisfied a creative urge for me.  It also soothed.  Almost meditative.  “A stitch in time saves nine”….and my sanity, truth be told.

 “Cosmos” represents stitches in ‘time’, another dimension of reality that connects me with other stitchers.  In this case, I am connecting to hundreds of artists who are incorporating Australian artist Dijanne Cevaal’s lino-cut block print image, Sentinelle, into their work.

Dijanne sees this collaboration as artists connecting in peace, using their own unique styles to develop a host of guardian figures, standing watch over us all.

Imagine all the stitching…all the saving being created.

18" x 27"

Stitchin'

Pieced Peace 27X42

I have thought at length about this challenge.  However, in all my thinking I've not proceeded much farther than s t i t c h.  I have long enjoyed stitching by hand.  Actually I like combining hand and machine stitching in my work.

 Pictured above, Pieced Peace was purchased from me several years ago by a Connecticut family in celebration of the adoption of their third child from China.  I had not considered selling it, but how could I say no to such a great cause.  The hand stitching connects me directly and personally to the piece and in a small way to them.   The small gold circles that I cut from one of my Uncle Mort's ties is icing on the cake.

I think I will stick to my own stitching'.

One Small Step

One knows when reading or watching mysteries to understand that there are no coincidences.  The same does not translate so easily to life.  In my own, I would have to rationalize a whole lifetime of coincidences.  Just my being a studio artist working in fiber is a stretch from a twenty year career in real estate punctuated with my stint as artists' representative.

One Small Step into My Universe

With this challenge I looked at what composed my own universe Here and Now:

autumnal colors, mostly cotton fabric both commercial and hand dyed

use of ink and paint

hand stitching along with free-motion, sometimes using a double needle

images of leaves, moons and birds, usually black

The result was "One Small Step into My Universe", 18" x 18".

Abstractions

It's true that I am mired in my own literal world.  Abstractions are way too…well, abstract for me to incorporate.  As I reflect on all the incredible 'coincidences' in my life…weird, eerie, and challenging, sometimes happy and oft times unsettling…I have come to believe that I rely on the literal to help cope with the seeming randomness of these coincidences.

It is simply much safer to stay in my own "in the moment", literal place.  I really prefer a universe that I can quantify and enter into my daily calendar.

As I approached today and my turn to post on the V-9 calendar, I am cautious not to reveal my interpretation of Alicia's challenge.  Whilst mulling on how to answer her, I played in my stash, only to discover scraps in an ancient layer.  This is not an unusual occurrence.  I hate to throw perfectly good stuff out.  What I was struck with was how spot on the cache was….starting with the color palette. (Coincidence? I don't think so).  It's not an exactly perfect answer for this challenge as it is 21 1/2" square. Wrong size to be a contender even with its nine orbs.  

And after sewing labels and sleeves on the first rotation V-9 pieces that are going on their road trip, I am very aware of following the rules.  Full disclosure:  one of those first is a teeny (scientific term) bit too small and one had to be radically cut down.

Pictured here, I have reworked my archaeological find……. as I try to navigate the abstract.

Navigating the Journey

Romeos and Juliets

Misik Kim's challenge was thought and memory provoking with two separate ideas that, at first, didn't meld into a cohesive concept for me.

 I let the two ideas germinate for a few weeks, thinking about them and occasionally re-reading Misik's post.  Then, literally in the middle of the night, I had this wonderful memory.

I was a teenaged university student.

Yes, it was a l-o-n-g time ago.  How long ago, you wonder?  Well, none of us used an abacus.  However, data entry from all of our studies was input by punch cards.  And, we still used slide rules.  I'm pretty sure that the last time I saw a slide rule was on Antique Roadshow.  But I digress.

My family had just relocated to Fort Worth, Texas, where I matriculated at the university in September.  It was the early 1960's.  The heat had diminished somewhat…locals said it had 'broken'.  The evenings were beautiful.  Drive-in movies on a Saturday night with my current beau were magical.

1960's Romeos and Juliets

New Beginnings AND Letting Go

All of the first decades of my life, September meant the start of school.  As Kate Themel wrote "new beginnings".  Every year from elementary school through university and, then, again with my three children as they traveled their own education journeys, September meant new teachers, new notebooks, new shoes, new friends, new words, new ideas…..

Then, in the mid-1980's my September became more complicated.  New meaning was going to be layered atop. I drove my youngest to university.  The three hour drive was full of laughs and remembrances of his helping me get his older siblings launched.  We had been a good team while they were away.  He helped me with my work, took care of my car and tended to all the dog's needs.  He playfully wondered how I would get along without him.

After helping to get him unpacked and settled into his campus life, he accompanied my back to my car for our farewell until Parent's Weekend.

As I hugged him, a rush of emotions flushed through me, leaving me empty.  Tears filled my eyes.  I gripped him tighter.  Close to his ear, I whispered "Get in the car.  No questions asked.  I'll buy you a Porsche".

His body heaved so hard in laughter I had a really tough time hanging on to him.  "Get in the car, Mom.  Go home."

We both wept as we laughed.

September is not just new beginnings.  It's also letting go.

An absence of NO

Perhaps it's the contrarian side of me, but I couldn't help myself.  "NO" just naturally means "YES".

I recall that we were cautioned as teenagers, learning Japanese while living in Japan, that "Iei" (no) was impolite to say in business and formal situations.  I don't think it's as much of a taboo now, except in retail/business exchanges when it is still very impolite, but long ago and in a rural area it was stressed.

That suited me fine!  I tried to co-op the etiquette and extend it to American-English situations as well.

It is very interesting…and sometimes requires adroit mental gymnastics, to communicate 'no' without using the word.  Prime training for diplomacy that was required years later when I became a parent and, later still, during my career as a real estate broker.

Now, older, wiser and much more experienced, I see real value in not saying 'no'.  For instance, I try dyeing, or a new technique, or a new idea without success.  Perfect time for a 'yes!'  That situation simply set up a new dynamic….time to try something different.

I hope to build on negatives with a big, old, hearty, fist-pumping YES.

It Would Be Impolite to Say No (27"x27")

No? Really?

Initially after reading Lisa-Marie's challenge, I went on a long mental trip roiled with the times I'd heard 'NO!'.  From the very beginning all those years ago, my instinct upon receiving a 'no' has been to hear in my head an accompanying loud challenge to jump in, hell-bent for 'YES'.  All those hurt feelings, those 'I told you so' moments that sometimes were satisfying and sometime not, those successes, those failures…all (well, as much as my aging gray cells allowed) remembered.

I'm sure my blood pressure rocketed.

Then the wiser woman living in my head whispered "to what end are you doing this to yourself".  Hmmm.  

I went on a different tack altogether in trying to put 'no' and, my reaction to it, in a larger, more universal context.  

Voila!  Lisa-Marie's challenge….more rewarding emotionally and satisfying.  Almost Zen.  I give you a peek at a detail.

Mr. Socks Invents Whack-a-Lizard

When approaching this challenge, it took me several days to shake off the idea that I need to think of a 'risk', some adventure I'd missed doing along the way,  and rather, something I'd like to do if I could but can't.

After we returned from living in Australia in the early 1990's, my husband and I bought a house in Florida where he had been assigned.  We knew we would be there only a month before he would be reassigned temporarily to Seoul, Korea.  We bought a house to hold our 'stuff' until we returned. 

The first night of our moving temporarily into our new home, we heard a young cat meowing in our flower bed.  I inquired with the neighbors as to whose it might be.  They all thought it was ours as we three had appeared in the neighborhood on the same day.

At that time Palm Beach county euthanized 2500 abandoned dogs and cats a year.  (People come for holidays, think because the weather is so benign that their 'short-time' pets can shift for themselves!)

Naturally we took the cat in.  My husband's daughter was attending college nearby and agreed to move in with her rescued dog and house/pet sit until we returned three months later.

Interestingly I had always thought I was allergic to cats.  But Mr. Socks (named because he had four white paws) didn't seem to bother me.  We grew to love him and we have many, many Socks stories.  He was a real character.  Over the 13 years he lived with us, I had convinced myself that I had developed an allergic tolerance to him.

Socks was to be an indoor cat, largely because we are birders, but also because a gator would show up in the pond behind our house occasionally.  He preferred to be in…he'd heard the Florida panthers at night.  He loved to play and made the best of his indoor life.  

His favorite game he invented himself.  He would wait patiently in the screened patio for a lizard to show up…he would catch it gently in his mouth, march to the dining room and place it on the highly patterned rug.  The lizard would run to a shape…try to camouflage itself and hold very very still.  Socks would sneak up and give it a whack and watch it run to another spot to camouflage itself and hold still.  Repeat, endlessly.  It was Mr. Socks' own game of Whack-a-Lizard and he thoroughly enjoyed himself.  He wasn't the least bit happy when his 'person' would rescue the lizard and release it out of doors.

There's nothing quite like self-delusion.  I attributed my severe allergic reactions that came on while we were living in Florida to a plethora of other causes.  Never attributing my increased doctor visits to the cat.

After his death my symptoms slowly subsided.  We will never be able have another cat.

The risk I would take, if I knew there'd be no complications, would be to rescue another ginger cat.

Mr Socks: 9"x18"

Mr Socks detail

One of his toys

I am not a risk taker

Truth be told, I am not a risk taker at the time I am deciding to do something.  I don't think in those terms.  I think about what it is I want to do and then do it.  There's probably some official psychological syndrome that sounds pretty scary for my way of responding to the world.

For the last two weeks, I've been puzzling over this challenge.  I guess I get to thank Kate for that :^/  Reflecting over the years has brought back memories of "how in the world did my parents allow that?!" or later in life "what the heck was I thinking?"

It started when I was 8.  I had had enough and it became suddenly quite clear to me that I did not belong with 'these people'.  I was sure that I had been adopted and my 'real' family was out there looking for me.  I emptied my younger brother's wooden tool box so that I would have a small durable suitcase.  I filled it with my favorite dress and a change of socks.  As I charged for the door, that same little brother rushed after me.  I thought he wanted his tool box…but no.  "You aren't leaving me here alone!"  So we went together.  Several hours later, even though we hid blocks away, our mother found us.

Then when I was thirteen our family relocated to southern Japan, the island of Kyushu (13,761 sq. mi. in area).  My parents, like everyone else's, had curfews and established rules.  Homework done first.  Play with friends, okay but must come when whistled for.  And for teenagers:  Home by 9pm on school nights and 10 on weekends….and…in Japan….don't leave the island.  Really!  Don't leave the island?!

Kumamoto Castle

Even then in the late 1950's, war-recovering Japan had a wonderful train system.  If you planned your day right you could go to Kumamoto Castle and get back in time for dinner…it's only a bit over 60 miles and around an hour and a half train ride to reach.  Then there were the times you could just get on a train and go.  Maybe just a town or two east.  Walk around the town….maybe find the local shrine on top of a hill…maybe have tea with the monks.                                       
You might also 'talk' yourself onto a family of fishermen's boat and go see how they harvested octopi.

 I couldn't find a picture of the 'wiggle boats' like the one I was invited onto near Shikanoshima, an island in Hakata Bay just over a bridge from our home in Hakata, outside of Fukuoka.  This one looks nothing like it but it's pretty and I'd have a go at talking my way onto it.

Not thinking too much about risks has given me a life-time of adventures and lots and lots of stories.  Yes, there are, mixed into the stories, some that are cautionary tales on what not to do.  Very real 'what not to do' tales.  But still…..there's not much I would do differently…okay, maybe my second husband :^)

Unraveled and Frayed

I have been working on this Challenge for 13 years....the last 3 with more urgency.

"Autumn Turns to Winter:  Unraveled and Frayed"

Let me just say that a few years ago I discovered that 50 is NOT the new 40.  AND, 60 is NOT the new 50.  AND, 70 is not the new anything....anything, that is, but for me, an urgent need to create.

Thirteen years ago I thought of myself as being in my 'Autumn Years".  My visual language included fallen leaves, bare trees, autumn moons and ravens, reminding me of Nevermore.

Those images remain still, darkened perhaps, but continuing to insist that I keep creating.  Everyday.  In the hopes that I will know where my time has gone.

What I forgot to include in my original post:

Full disclosure re my Unraveled and Frayed:  

Details:  18"x18" vintage, reclaimed, recycled cotton dinner napkin, raw edged appliqued with hand-dyed, block printed, hand-painted and soy wax batiked cottons.  Machine and hand stitched.

Yes, Martha. Where DOES the time go?

Autumn Years

Right this minute, I wish that I lived somewhere where the date was September 8th instead of the 9th. I was scheduled to post on our brand new, exciting Viewpoints9-2 rotation YESTERDAY!

Excitement!  So exciting that when Martha emailed me today I was totally flummoxed.  Where HAD the time gone?

My only defense for this faux pas in not posting yesterday was that this weekend was filled with 3 family birthdays and a house guest.  No excuse, really, if you think about it.

Certainly not if I think about it.

I have been working on this challenge for the past 13 years, the last 3 with more urgency.

Autumn Years is the first in a long series and foretold much about the themed work that followed.  Metaphors that are not very deep:  bare trees that I have carved from printing blocks, moons of various times and hand-dyed fabric mixed with commercial.

I was SO enthusiastic about Martha's challenge that I jumped right into work on it...it's done, completed, photographed, the whole 9 yards (reference intended).

Ironic, no? that the post is a full day late?

This challenge is very personal to me.  Thank you, Martha.