Come Spring

"Come, gentle Spring! ethereal Mildness! Come!"

from The Seasons. Spring. by James Thomson

16"x20" fabric and paper collage on stretched canvas

Gelatin print acrylic on muslin with hand embroidery,

vintage ephemera, transferred postcard, vintage lace

and buttons, machine and hand stitching on vintage linen

Echoes

"How cruelly sweet are the echoes that start

When memory plays an old tune on the heart!"

from Old Dobbin by Eliza Cook

8"x8" fabric and paper collage on canvas board.

Postcard from 1913, wood block print on muslin

with hand embroidery, vintage lace and trims,

silk and paper flowers, vintage train ticket,

vintage buttons, all stitched to fabric.

We, the Memories

"... we, the memories, stand here for ourselves alone."

from the poem Edith Conant by Edgar Lee Masters

A small stitched fiber and paper collage I worked on before the holidays. I don't recall how this photo found its way to me. It's not from my own family but from someone's forgotten history.

More Studies

I've been working up more of these small studies - small stitched mixed-media collages incorporating wood block prints, paper ephemera, lace, fabric and other small embellishments. I want to see where they lead; see how the elements work and play together; see how I like their natural simplicity before moving this into a larger series of work.

Many thanks to all who have been sending me encouraging words. As timid as I am about putting my work out into the world it is very comforting to receive such heartening praise. I hope to share some of my larger works very soon.

Welcoming Summer...

with a new series of work.


Fabric and paper painted with vintage wood blocks,

Bits of lace and ephemera

All stitched together in petite vignettes.

Finding My Voice

With these small studies I'm working towards finding my own voice again.

When I was in seventh grade I had to take choir in school. I didn't particularly like singing but if I had to sing in choir I wanted to sing Alto. I loved the deep, soft folds that Alto voices added to a piece of music and I wanted to be part of that. No, no, said the teacher, we already have plenty of Altos. I need you to sing Soprano. So I did, but I wasn't good and I didn't enjoy it.

Finding my own voice now means finding a comfortable range that produces a lovely harmony. Even if there are already plenty of Altos.

p.s. For those who asked, the lake in the banner is located along the Austrian border with Germany, deep in the Alps. And yes, I once lived very near there. {sigh}

Use those talents you have

I've had this hanging in my studio ever since I finished it a couple of weeks ago. It has been a lovely reminder to me and I'm now inspired to move ahead. There is so much more to come.