Objects, Labor, & Identity: Mom and her Cross-stitching

I see this photo series as a continuation of the object series I started last semester where I cast the negative space created by specific gestures to create organic, shell-like objects. My mom has always been creative. When I was young, she ran a home-based sewing business. Some of my earliest memories are of watching her work or going fabric shopping with her. Although she has taken up cross-stitching recently, observing her creative process feels like a memory that has come full circle. This series also picks up the branching line visual motif that I started using last semester.

Sand, Ruins & Kintsugi

I approached this sand paining from a different perspective. Rather than thinking of the depicted space as a bird's eye view pattern, I focused on topography as a tactile experience. I asked myself what would the landscape feel like if I could run my hands across it. Thinking of its surface as a skin or cloth over an underlying structure, I had to consider the experience of each curve and form individually. As I did this, each area took on unique characteristics that resulted in a less unified but more dynamic composition. 

When creating the ruins for this work, I thought about the practice of Kintsugi. Gold is used to repair broken pottery creating an unpredictable, decorative pattern. The philosophy behind this practice contends that when an object is damaged and repaired; it is not thought of as a destructive process but rather an important part of the object's history. So instead of creating a series of mound structures and building around them, I thought of the ruins as a rolling plain of fractured parts that required a network of seams to mend the landscape back together in a different way.

Painting Landscapes

Leaving the topography of the form white draws attention to the interplay between light and shadow. I think shifting the direction of the texture might create some interesting, unexpected patterns.

So a month ago I was really excited about these object/painting hybrids. A couple of weeks past and I finished the first set of forms and found myself ready to start painting. Then I ran into a problem. I realized that although I brainstormed and sketched the forms, I did not have a clear idea of what the finished, painted work would look like. I knew I wanted to do something with surface texture or pattern, but I wasn't exactly sure what. I was very happy with the forms themselves but once I started working on the underpaintings, not so much anymore.

I think I reached a point where I was overthinking these pieces. Since the concept behind them is rooted in childhood, I figured that I should try to recover a sense of play. I've resolved to work intuitively, which is something I normally reserve for my sculptural work. I immediately started building some new forms so I can try a different approach on each of them, working my way through the problem.

Started building some new forms to play with.

Finished the 3rd form and ready to paint.

Covering the first form with beads.

I like how the bead's iridescence gives the illusion of cloth.

The Decisive Moment

I'm very excited about developments with the sand paintings. I just ordered some test prints today on paper and textile. I've also been considering how to display the images once I decide which material to use. I believe the new method of matching the landscape and ruins into diptychs drawing connections between the idealized memory of a landscape and its inevitable destruction and transformation is promising. I also have some ideas concerning how to display sand installations. Originally, I wanted to build or repurpose a table. Now, I'm planning to build a wall-mounted or hanging shelf out of plexi so that the sand can be viewed from every possible angle. I would like to know if a clear surface underneath will help to eliminate boundaries between the viewer and the work encouraging more intimate interaction.