One Year Later, Now What?

“What part of Missouri are you all from?” 

Mark and I were sitting in the hotel breakfast area quietly discussing plans for our new life when a very tall and surly man stopped in front of our table and asked the question without preamble. We just stared at him, frozen in place by his audacity. “I saw your cars, your plates,” he shrugged. “My kid is graduating from college, and we are moving back to Springfield. I’ve had enough of this place.” His visible displeasure turned fully into disgust when we informed him that we were moving to Minnesota. I don’t know why people are like this.

At the beginning of May, we will have been in Minnesota for a year. We survived our first winter and we thrived. The Twin Cities had the third snowiest winter on the books. The benefit of beginners’ mind is you don’t know what is unusual. We enjoyed winter and we expect to enjoy future seasons as well.

“Rag rug” sampling on the loom. Experimenting with the structure of a rug as a base for embroidery. Lots of color mixing and using scraps and random bits.

My studio work lately has been a lot of sampling and trying new things. Before I packed everything up I had some ideas that I worked on and I left those fabric samples to rediscover on the other side. I’m glad that I did that as I wasn’t starting from zero. I also had a sense that for the next year, I would sample, experiment, and see where things led me. I miss making my work and yet the work that I made before seems to have quieted within me. I have mostly gracefully allowed that to just be and to not pick at it. There are other times though where the inner quiet is interrupted by my own inner voice asking, now what? What will I make now?

I was finally able to voice what I’m thinking and searching for on a walk to our lake this week with my husband. All this time my work has been about an imagined place or places that have left imprints on memory—the places that I longed for. Now that I’ve discovered that place that I imagined, what does that mean for my work? My husband suggested that I still long for that place. I long for the place that I have. It was a subtle shift and a wise suggestion.

Early spring at the lake

The places that I long for are now here. There are many of them – some are a block away, some a thirty-minute walk away, and many I haven’t seen yet. Spring has come to the north, and while the earth is slow to wake up, the creatures here are announcing the changes. The osprey are back, we see eagles almost every day again, and my long held wish to see a loon has been granted. We have seen about six of them now. The landscape here touches the small curious child that I once was and I can’t seem to get my fill of it. No matter the season. I just love being outside here, even if only in the driveway.

Loon spotting!

In Other News

I recently had an article published on the Norwegian Textile Letter, an interview with artist, Soile Hovila. Weaving Light and Meaning: A Conversation with Artist Soile Hovila

My piece This Land recently was given Award of Excellence at the Hopkins Center for the Arts. The Spring Members Show runs until May 14, 2023.

This Land

On Being at the Great Northern Festival

The Great Northern Festival in Minneapolis is a two week annual winter festival to celebrate the cold, dark times in the north with programming about art, creativity, food, culture and to spotlight climate concerns.  Yesterday as part of this festival, I had the chance to attend a live podcast recording of On Being with Krista Tippett. Tippett was interviewing biologist, writer and consultant Janine Benyus. I wasn’t familiar with Benyus before this event and I’m surprised that I’ve missed her work. Benyus popularized the term “biomimicry,” a discipline to use nature as a mentor to create designs and processes to create a more sustainable planet. You can watch her excellent TED talk https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k_GFq12w5WU to learn more. I plan on reading her book Biomimicry: Innovation Inspired by Nature. 

The conversation took place in an intimate auditorium at the Minneapolis Art Institute. Folks braved our latest air blast to attend the hour and fifteen minute conversation. I took notes throughout and I’m still processing the conversation. It is one that I won’t soon forget. 

Sunset in the city through the window of the MIA.

Benyus spoke of a childhood spent observing her neighbors, the non-human neighbors, on the “wild edge of the suburbs.” I’ve heard similar statements from other biologists and artists. This is certainly true in my own life. She offered up the concept of nature as a mentor. This statement caused a murmuring in the group. It certainly resonated with me as well. Nature as a spiritual place, as mother, as mentor and as a home.

So much of the conversation reminded me of the work of Robin Wall Kimmerer who was also a guest on On Being. I’ve been following Tippett’s early radio show, Speaking of Faith, that evolved into On Being and is now a podcast for as long as I can remember. She has interviewed so many artists, scientists, writers, and thoughtful people. Some of them I knew and many of them I discovered through Tippett’s thoughtful questions. I’ve often wondered how she is able to draw people into rich conversations? Tippett is able to link a lifetime of work into a conversation that seems to at least touch on everything, but highlights the through line that connects it all. I think this simple complex answer is that she researches deeply into people she interviews. Benyus wasn’t the first person to express surprise at what Tippett had in her notes to ask about.

A few other On Being episodes that have impacted my thinking and my studio work - not a complete list:

A Studio Tour

It has taken me longer than I imagined to settle into my studio. I mostly had things unpacked and in place at the end of August after we moved in July. There have been small tweaks and some equipment came and went. Shelves were built, worktables in place and yet it didn’t quite feel right. I didn’t feel really compelled to be in the space and I wasn’t quite sure what was going on.

Design wall to the left. Fabrics stick to the flannel so they can be viewed, photographed and observed. Quote on this wall is from a Mary Oliver poem. Work table and drawers to the right.

When winter set into the land of 10,000 now frozen lakes, I figured I’d go heads down to work. I did for the most part, but I felt unfocused and meh about a lot of things. Last week that began to change. I added another bookcase to capture the height of the room. It allowed my reference books to spread out more, keepsake display space and supply bins to hide clutter to now have a place. They are easily reachable, but visually the shelves are clean.

Antique shuttles that I’ve been given. So many books!

My poor parents would be amused to know that as I’ve gotten older, I’ve become more fastidious about mess and clutter. I’ve worked in a variety of studio spaces, some shared and I know I work best in clean spaces.

Work tables for various tasks. Computer area items can be condensed for hand stitching as well.

This weekend my husband and I built another bookshelf for the space behind my loom for yarn storage. I had a shorter shelf there before and the whole area was a bit of a chaotic disaster. Now I have covered storage for colored yarns, shelves for white coned yarns and the clutter has a place to go. Most of it was rehomed into my storage area as we moved the smaller shelf there.

Main weaving area. Tools for weaving in the drawers, yarn in the cabinets and winding items for yarns on the table area.

Next, we painted the bathroom. Before it was a late 90s/early 2000 shade of dark teal with dim lighting. We painted it the same color as the studio walls and installed daylight bulbs above the vanity. It is transformed and it just feels better. There is a ridiculous amount of storage in this bathroom. The vanity drawers are full of shop towels, measuring spoons and cups, the cupboard holds drop cloths, dye powders and the shower has bins and a rolling cart tucked inside. I feel very fortunate to have a space with a wet area. The shower makes an excellent place to tuck wet yarns and fabric into for drying.

The bathroom that offers more artwork display space! A large and hidden drawer on the vanity base offers more storage. I didn’t discover it until a few weeks ago.

Today’s project was to reclaim the space under my main worktables. We had a four shelf wire unit that was sitting unused. I measured it and realized it would be perfect under the tables as two units with two shelves.  It now holds rolled textiles, shipping box with pool noodles for textiles rolls, and various other things that I need here and there.

Captured space with room to grow.

I’m all about capturing as much space as I can in studios. Textiles is an equipment dense pursuit and the clutter of it can be overwhelming. Finding a home for each tool or supply takes time and there are many tweaks. I get annoyed when I go to look for something and can’t find it. It’s inefficient and can break the workflow. One of my favorite studio tools is a label maker. All drawers and closed storage bins are labeled.

Sewing area with printer tucked under. Printer shelf is on wheels now so it can be pulled out for expanded use. Rolling cart has weaving yarns that can be moved when I’m at the loom.

One of my favorite thing in my studio can be found in the storage closet. I used a small wire rack to organize loom reeds and tools. I don’t know why but speciality reed storage are crazy expensive.

It isn’t a Pinterest studio space for the most part. The main workspace is organized, clean and spacious given what I have in it. There are tight areas around the loom, but it works.

And I’m working too. I feel excited to get to the space in the morning and I’m finding it hard to leave at night. I like being in the space, ideas are flowing, and I’ve started making a daily list of tasks I hope to get to that day.

On the list for tomorrow is this weaving that I began in the last post. It is off the loom, and I have some hemming to do before doing some more work on it. Will it be a piece? I don’t know, but there is an idea there that calls to me. So, work will begin on it tomorrow.

Another favorite part of my studio is this saying above the utility room door.

“Minä istun iloissani ja annan surun huilata.”

“I sit here contented while sorrow catches its breath.”

 The Finnish saying came from a letterpress artwork that we have framed in another part of the house. I had a bit of an exchange with a Finnish instructor, and he thought that contented wasn’t a strong enough word – delighted, maybe. I’ll stick with contented. It seems like a deeper more lasting feeling.  I’ve found it here in the wild and wintery north.

The marsh is frozen over while we bask in the sunshine.