“Eventually, all things merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of those rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs. I am haunted by waters.” Norman Maclean, A River Runs Through It
When I saw the movie, A River Runs Through It, I had one of those rare moments where art makes you silent inside and allows your mind to open into the sense of awe and beauty. It is the moment where you know you are sitting inside deep truth and that you have always known. It was the first time I’ve experienced silence and stillness after the movie ended. No one moved and the theatre was quiet. After, when the lights came up a few of us made eye contact – seeking confirmation that other people experienced what we had. I looked into moist eyes of knowing and we nodded to each other. Yes, it was beautiful and yes, I am transformed as well.
Despite my youth (I was sixteen?), I knew what Norman Maclean said was truth and that he was not only telling his family story, but mine as well. I later read the book and the words have become a touchstone for me that I’ve meditated on all these years. They came back to me recently while I was beginning to research a new series on language.
I’ve slowly begun language studies to learn Finnish. Learning Finnish for me has a deeper urge than just wanting to understand and travel easier. Language is the means for connection, identity and unlocks memory. I love listening to Finnish and I do recognize words, so there is hope for me. I’ve been thinking about my great grandmother, Amanda, lately or I should say more so than usual. I have so many questions about her and a desire to know her. I know that I was named for her and in my research and readings, I ran across the term namesake.
Namesake: one who is named after another or for whom another is named
I’ve been thinking about the definition for a few days now, and I’m struck by the mutuality that it implies. At first, I thought it was a one way – a name given, but now I see it is a name shared. A mutual relationship. By naming me for Amanda, my mother tied me to her. There must have been a reason. Unfortunately, I did not ask or understand that reason. If only as children, we knew to ask the second, third and remaining questions. To understand Amanda, I would need to speak her language as I’ve been told she never learned English. I would love to ask her, what does it mean to be Finnish? And then ask the second and third questions.
My next work will begin to incorporate my language learning. I started to think about making flashcards to help encode the words into my memory and to improve my recall. Then I began to think about stitching flashcards. The physicality of stitching would really help some of the words take root. From there I began to think about embedding them into my work. I still wasn’t sure how the words would manifest as the work isn’t just about the words.
I was watching a travel video of Finland the other day with my husband. I was feeling sad that our trip had to be postponed and feeling the familiar ache for Finland. Can you be homesick for a place you’ve never been before? There was a series of aerial shots over Finland’s many lakes and I heard “the words are the water” in my head. So, I think I will follow those words and stitch the words into the water section of my piece and go from there.
I was messaging with a friend/colleague this week expressing my lost feeling. Post large projects, there is often a feeling of let down – of inner collapse. I go from the certainty of knowing what I’m doing or supposed to be doing, to feeling little energy, little certainty about what comes next and I feel like I’m wasting time. This happens a lot. It is part of the process. I know this and yet I always fight it. I did a lot of writing through this time and came upon what comes next after reflecting on my idea – incorporate my language learning into the piece. At that time, I didn’t know much of anything of how the idea might take shape. But in writing and thinking, I found the answer. The mind is a curious thing, it stores all these experiences that shape our thinking and helps us find the answers we’ve left for ourselves. I don’t know what I really think about something until I write it.
Since beginning my thesis, I knew that writing would return to my life and that it was an important part of my studio work. In returning to it, it has helped feed my work and my work feeds my writing, a mutual relationship. An Instagram follower asked me about my green quilt (part of the large project I just finished) and if I had a blog where I talked about it more. Her question brought my own inner nagging forward to restart my blog. I will write about the green quilt and the white quilt and all the photos that I posted to Instagram about them. I just need a little space around them to think and then I’ll share more about them. So, thank you Instagram follower – I’m restarting my blog. I can’t promise that I’ll be a faithful blogger, but I’ll try to share my thoughts, experiments and work both written and stitched.
