How do things become?

or

what does the creative process look like?

How do things become? I  thought you might like to see “the process” of becoming for a new work of art.

As I return to the studio full time, my creativity is waking up.  It’s pretty stiff and creaky, like the broken parts of my body.  But, also like my body, it knitting back together.  I am playing with stitch outs from “Before the Fall!” (As in broken leg, not Adam and Eve in the Garden.)

When I fell on the ice 6 months ago, there was one large, multi part piece in process awaiting a wood armature and a small wayfinder awaiting finely shaped maple.  I ordered the maple, perhaps the day before “The Fall.”  It arrived while I was in rehab. There were enough modules stitched to make the large piece larger or manipulate some of them into something else, while I await the completion of the woodshop.

I don’t yet know how this piece will turn out, but I thought you would enjoy seeing all the ways I played with it and combined it with other materials.

This is the soul of creativity: experimentation and constantly asking, ” What if I tried…”  Oh my, it is FUN!

So, how do things become? It all started with what you see above.  Somehow, yellow was demanding to be seen.

Then I wondered what it would look like in contrast to a brick of beeswax.

Then I tried “wire felt.”  Hmm.  That was interesting.

Then I put yellow under the “wire felt.”  Also interesting.  I was searching for a pleasing combination that might somehow reflect what my body has been going through.

Next I tried treasured parchment scraps that resurfaced in the move of the studio.

These were also interesting: visceral against the beauty of the threads, similar in color to the gold thread, and pleasing against the shredded edges of the fabric.

Well then I found some muslin that I had painted while in Virginia.

What do these tell me? The vertical one looked like falling leaves.  Not bad, but not quite right yet. Sure love the paint-stained muslin, though.

I am still playing around until a composition says,“Yes!  That’s it!” 

It hasn’t happened yet!

This is the ABSOLUTE JOY of the studio: manipulating materials until they speak.

P.S. I’ll let you know when the materials finally tell me their story!