I attended a two day MiXed MediA workshop this past weekend. The purpose was to look at self, and emotion in art.
I created four objects. A doll (self), an encaustic portrait (self), a rusty chicken (self as an animal), and a collage on board (who I am). (I'll post them all eventually...)
I chose the burlap fabric for this doll (yet uncompleted) because I yearn to dabble in rug hooking. I will attempt some rug hooking on her, possibly to create her face, or her heart.
This doll was sewn by hand, and was created after completing 7 minutes of writing around the theme "I remember"..... I cried and couldn't read my writing to the group. I wrote about remembering when love was simple, and when I was learning to walk pushing a little wooden box my brother had made me.
I chose the burlap fabric for this doll (yet uncompleted) because I yearn to dabble in rug hooking. I will attempt some rug hooking on her, possibly to create her face, or her heart.
This doll was sewn by hand, and was created after completing 7 minutes of writing around the theme "I remember"..... I cried and couldn't read my writing to the group. I wrote about remembering when love was simple, and when I was learning to walk pushing a little wooden box my brother had made me.
This brought me to losing my father; he left when I was two. I never saw him again. He died three years ago, with me never knowing who, or where he was. I believe this has affected me my whole life. I didn't write this on my paper, but it was there in between the words. I dreamed of it that night.
My writing was mostly about love. Remembering as a very little child how love was easy, and how free I felt, when love was there. I wrote about friendship, family, and love. About how when you can't feel love, it's hard to see love. How when you haven't had love, how it might be hard to give love.
I remembered wanting to learn to sew at age 9, and my mother would not allow me to use her machine, until I learned in school at 14 (which was, coincidentally, the year she died). I remembered how this created a barrier between my mother and me. Then, as a child, I received prizes for my hand sewn work at the fall fair. My mother was a talented seamstress (it ran in my family), but she couldn't share it with me enough, to find the joy to share with me. She did show me how to cut a pattern for a pair of pants, for my sister's barbie (I started with Barbie clothes), with the extensions for the crotch, and sent me on my way. I remember hand sewing them on the front lawn, in the sun, on a blanket. (..still have them, if anyone wants me to post them..)
My writing was mostly about love. Remembering as a very little child how love was easy, and how free I felt, when love was there. I wrote about friendship, family, and love. About how when you can't feel love, it's hard to see love. How when you haven't had love, how it might be hard to give love.
I remembered wanting to learn to sew at age 9, and my mother would not allow me to use her machine, until I learned in school at 14 (which was, coincidentally, the year she died). I remembered how this created a barrier between my mother and me. Then, as a child, I received prizes for my hand sewn work at the fall fair. My mother was a talented seamstress (it ran in my family), but she couldn't share it with me enough, to find the joy to share with me. She did show me how to cut a pattern for a pair of pants, for my sister's barbie (I started with Barbie clothes), with the extensions for the crotch, and sent me on my way. I remember hand sewing them on the front lawn, in the sun, on a blanket. (..still have them, if anyone wants me to post them..)
I remembered losing my mother (at 14), missing my sister (separated through foster care), having no family, and how my cat had no voice to meow. ..hmm, is this getting symbolic, or what... I remembered after returning to the island, from NYC after 7 years (going through my Saturn return), how I discovered that my purpose in life was to learn about love. (My friends thought I was crazy, and couldn't relate.) I remembered how my son is my best love ever.
The workshop was very challenging, and put me way outside my comfort zone in many areas. I pushed myself to learn different techniques, and to forge through emotional zones (which actually diminished, somewhat, the joy of exploring new techniques for me)... it was worthwhile, but conflicting... Today I cry as I decompress. Some may wonder what all this has to do with art, creativity, and design. I say this: it is EVeRYTHiNG!
The workshop was very challenging, and put me way outside my comfort zone in many areas. I pushed myself to learn different techniques, and to forge through emotional zones (which actually diminished, somewhat, the joy of exploring new techniques for me)... it was worthwhile, but conflicting... Today I cry as I decompress. Some may wonder what all this has to do with art, creativity, and design. I say this: it is EVeRYTHiNG!
Thank you, Ken Flett, for the class, your friendship, and the opening in my heart for love.
I was amazed at the soulful stories he extracts from his students. It's a wonderful workshop that makes artists think even if he wants you to "do it without thinking about it". Interesting to see your art from the workshop – thanks for sharing it.
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