|Page from The Book of Broken Branches|
Hope you are having a fine weekend...restful and rejuvenating! We just got back from a lovely drive out in the country....bee line to the farm/orchard about a half an hour away from here, before they closed, to get fresh apples and a homemade apple pie and then a long meandering drive through the rolling farmland on the way back. Such exqusitie color, subtle yellows and reds and the light in the blue-violet sky against the land at sunset was pretty breathtaking!
So now, here I am with a portrait of the little stick I found on the ground as I came out of the music museum on Wednesday, along with the book page it inspired....titled page from The Book of Broken Branches! Other views, including details available here. As I made tiny stitches I thought about so many things, including the book page as a format. Here's what my moving hands reminded me as I put needle to paper. The reason I am drawn to the book page (at this moment I can't quite recall the proper term for this open page format) rather than making the book itself, is that I am very much about the still image. What I have to say can be said in the single still image. Stillness. Somehow I need stillness to see clearly, to look, to process what I am seeing. In a culture totally obsessed by the moving image, I feel rather lost in time, as I struggle visually to keep up. Our times thrive on bigger, faster, louder and we move too quickly....it's no wonder we can't remember anything in such a blur of rapid movement. In watching a film, I am often transfixed by the momentary flash of a scene that I process in the exquisite composition of the still frame, but alas it's gone so quickly, the script has moved on and I am mourning the loss of that moment of perfect and beautiful stillness. I'm sure this is why I work at such an intimate scale and in a process that demands a length of time, both for me and for you, the viewer. I ask for the slowness that approaches stillness. In viewing, the work demands a one-on-one experience. These are not works that can be even remotely seen across a room, in a space shared by others...a moment of privacy is necessary to view the work, to slow down, to look, to see and to be...all alone. Whole worlds can unfold inside us when we slow down.
Here's to slowness...a gentle reminder to myself!
Have a lovely weekend everyone.