Dear Gentle Reader...

You may have found little reason to visit my blog lately. I have not been getting much that is reportable done. It has been a season of medical check-ups and procedures, not because of poor health, but just keeping up with all the demands the medical community seems to have on wanting to check up on my awesome body as it ages. I will be kind, and spare you all details.

I haven't been carrying my camera around with me lately, as this winter has seemed too brown to get excited about. We have not had the beautiful snows that we had last winter, and I miss that winter feeling. I regretted being camera-less yesterday though, when I spotted a beautiful golden American Kestral well within the range of my long camera lens!

The altered photo above was taken in my favorite music shop, where I go once a week for guitar lessons, trying to prove to myself that you are never too old to learn something new.

This is part of the mantle in my sitting room, where I do some guitar practice,  I recently wove my small tapestry, I do my morning sketching and journal writing, drink some coffee, and often just do some sitting.

Gus likes it when not much is happening, as he seems to get more of my attention. He thinks everything he does is photo-worthy.

I will be going on a trip soon, and I always travel with my camera around my neck. Even though this trip is a family visit, I hope to see things worth photographing, worth sketching, and, who knows? maybe even worth a tapestry down the line. If so, I promise to keep you posted. In the meantime, thanks for your visit!

Grace set free.....

 

I cut the "Grace" tapestry from the small loom this morning.  I've posted the bottom half, and now the top half, while on the loom. I'll post the whole of it when I get the finishing work done, most of which will be done on the train! I'll try to get a better photo than the one above, as well.

And, speaking of photos, here is my favorite photo of this past week:

Booker and Gus napping together on our bed. Just like kids, they look so sweet and peaceful when they're asleep, don't they? You'd never dream that Booker occasionally tries to mop the floor with Gus when they're awake!

What I owe to Rachel Brown...

Rachel Brown died yesterday. Rachel Brown of the Weaving, Spinning, and Dyeing Book, which was the first weaving book I ever owned. I devoured that book. It is literally in pieces on my book shelf. Rachel Brown of Weaving Southwest, the beautiful tapestry gallery in Taos, New Mexico. Rachel Brown, who taught and influenced many weavers and encouraged generations of weavers to keep going in a hard and often discouraging art form.

I met Rachel several times. Her work was included in several exhibits I put together, and she was one of the jurors I worked with on the third American Tapestry Biennial. I cannot claim to have known her well; she and I mostly recognized each other by the work we did. But Rachel did have a huge impact on my life and my own work.

Rachel was part of a panel discussion I once attended a number of years ago. The panel consisted of all New Mexican weavers. The moderator asked the panelists how their 'cultural heritage' influenced their work. Rachel, being the only Anglo on the panel, said that she didn't really feel like, as an Anglo American woman, she had a heritage to draw from in her work, so she allowed herself to be influenced by the rich cultures around her. For some reason, that hit me smack in the chest, like a physical blow. It actually made tears run down my face. Rachel's background was much the same as my own. But I didn't want to feel that my own cultural heritage wasn't rich enough to inspire my work. That niggled in my mind and heart for some time, and when I went home, I began to delve into old family photos; into my heritage, to search for tapestry inspiration.

What I came up with became my Heritage Series of tapestries, beginning with "Watermelon Girls," an image of my grandmother and her friends. The rest of the series can be seen here.

I always say that the series, which includes five tapestries so far, is not a finished series. I have one more piece in my mind and heart, and many more potential pieces I would like to weave. All of the tapestries come from my family history; that of a middle class Anglo family of German ancestry living in America's heartland. What has amazed me about these tapestries is that every time I exhibit them, and especially when I had the opportunity to exhibit them all together, people tell me that I have woven their own lives, their own stories. That, to me, is a cultural heritage.

I always think of Rachel when I think of these tapestries. If I had not been hit so hard by her admission that she didn't feel her heritage was rich enough to weave, these tapestries would probably never have been woven. Rachel wove wonderful tapestries. Her  'borrowing' from the cultures around her was greatly enhanced by her own vision in her work. I believe who she was truly shows in her own work, and many weavers have bits of Rachel Brown in their weavings. She created a heritage that will live on in her work. I believe that is the mark of a true artist; to take what you can from where you are and to make it your own.

I will always be grateful to Rachel for sending me in the direction, even though unintentionally, that took me to my own heritage, and to the creation of the resulting Heritage Tapestries. Thank you, Rachel Brown.

January was a sleeping cat...

... and a new pink capo for the newly replaced neck of my guitar. How could I resist a pink capo? (Plus, it benefits breast cancer research.)

January was winter sunsets from my studio window. But no snow to speak of, pink, or otherwise.

 

January was a month of surprises; like going to church and having someone say, " I saw your photo in the newspaper yesterday." I thought they were mistaken, so asked, "Really? What was I doing in the paper?"  "Weaving," was the reply, so I knew it had to be me. And it was. Nothing said about me, just the photo and the caption, "Kathy Spoering at the loom" above an article about art seminars. Wouldn't you think I would have known if my photo was to be in the paper? Well.... anyway.

January was, and soon February will be. What will it bring?

Weaving Grace.....

I'm still weaving the small tapestry for the non-juried ATA small format tapestry exhibit. The tapestry is due in March, and I have some travel coming up, so I hope to complete the 8x10" piece this week-end, or early next week, at the latest. Then I can take it with me on an upcoming train trip to do the finishing work.

I got the good news that one of my tapestries will be included in ATA's juried American Tapestry Biennial IX, as well.That is very encouraging, and has given me a real boost for my studio work. I am very fond of the ATB exhibits, as I kind of feel a personal attachment to the exhibit, having organized the first one, and a subsequent one, as well. So I always enter it, whether I think the work I submit will be accepted or not. I did not even think of the exhibit again, after entering this time, as my expectations were not real high. So having a piece accepted was a lovely surprise! This is the 9th ATB. I have entered them all. This will be my 4th time being in the exhibit, so you can do the math... more rejections than acceptances. That's how it goes when one person is choosing pieces for an exhibit. As organizer of a number of exhibits, including the 2 ATB's, I have seen some absolutely stunning tapestries rejected for reasons I could not understand, and I have been totally flabbergasted at some of the accepted works, which I felt should not have been included. So I have learned to not let rejection depress me (too much), nor to let acceptance swell my ego. Twice,  I have had work rejected from one exhibit go on to win Best of Show in another one. Artists are supposed to develop thick skins, and I guess this is why. However, artists are notoriously (and necessarily) sensitive people, in my experience. So the jurying process is a strange way to treat us, really, isn't it?

At any rate, I do look forward to tapestry exhibits, both the non-juried small tapestry show I'm weaving the above piece for (one of my very favorite exhibits!), and the ATB9  exhibit, as well as all the exhibits I hope to see in California next summer at Convergence where I will be teaching. In my part of the country, I rarely get to see tapestries, other than my own. So I will immerse myself in the exhibits this coming summer.

The small tapestry is from a small painting I did long ago that I always felt like I wanted to weave. I am loving the small format, after working on the big loom. I DO love both my small Mirrix loom and my big Shannock loom, but it is good to move from one to the other occasionally. I keep thinking that this is so small, that it should weave a bit faster, though!

Back to weaving "Grace" (the name of the tapestry, though I'm not sure why. It just seemed right...)

A bit of a detour...

While you were not looking, I have been busy in the studio, but not at the loom (where I should have been.) But occasionally, one must strike while the iron is hot. (An aside note about that phrase: I saw a blacksmith use the phrase on PBS's This Old House recently. Being a fiber person, I had always thought it referred to a hot iron, as in what you press fabric with. But it made much more sense when the blacksmith used it to refer to hitting, or striking, the metal while it was hot from the fire to reshape it. Duh. An example of how much our own experiences shape our often faulty perceptions, I guess.)

Anyway, the current 'hot iron' was my woodworking husband being without a project, and eager for something constructive to do in his shop. When we moved into this house 14 years ago, I asked him to build me shelves in the studio closet. What he came up with, much to my amazement and dismay, is what you see above: two narrow sets of shelves up the sides of the closet, leaving the bulk of space useless. So, I jumped on his project-less state and begged him to re-do my closet shelves, to my specifications this time.

 

Needless to say, all the piled up stuff had to come out of the closet. It filled my studio, the upstairs hallway, and our summer bedroom. Where did all that stuff come from? And what did/do I think I am going to need it for?

This is what my wonderful new shelves look like! This is also what I had in mind 14 years ago when I asked for shelves. It took me longer to deal with all the stuff than it took my husband to construct and install the shelves. I also painted the inside of the closet, which had what I believe might have been the original paint on the upper portion of the closet (from1921).

Some detours are necessary.  Rarely do they save you time or effort, but some turn out pretty well, even when they are not what you had planned for that time. This one has turned out to be well worth the time and effort it took. Goodwill has also benefited by acquiring a good bit of my 'stuff.' That part felt so good, I'm sure they will get more soon!

I have not been completely without creative progress during this project. I have been weaving a small whimsical tapestry on my small loom for the ATA small tapestry exhibit. I have about a third of it woven. I will share it with you later. It is great fun to weave some whimsy again!

Tomorrow I go back to the big loom in the now clean studio. I am ready to spend time with Mr. Fox and his friends again. And maybe now I can find those small beaters and sharp scissors when I need them!

Being Foxy ...

I am weaving the fox in the right tapestry panel of the Nativity tapestries. He and I are enjoying one another. As I weave Mr. Fox, a song by Dave Carter and Tracy Grammer called "Go Tell the Fox" keeps running through my head. It's a nativity song, so is classified as a Christmas song. (By the way, if anyone knows where I could find sheet music or even just guitar chords to that song, I would be ever so grateful!)

Yesterday I sketched Beluga whales. I sketched them because I have been listening to their music. I heard Beluga whales singing about 14 years ago in Cook Inlet in Alaska. It was a magical sound, which I recently found recorded on a sleep sounds app. Hearing it again takes me instantly back to that cool fall morning in Alaska, and to the mysterious song coming across the water from these gentle creatures.

Back to Mr. Fox, who is patiently waiting my attention in the studio....