We become artists because we think we have something to say. Something to share with another—an opinion, an idea, a dream. We believe we exist in a global society, where one action catalysts another. I exited college during a miasmic confluence of distrust and disturbance. We hoped to realize by example. Some of us succeeded, some of us merely moved on.
I studied under a master weaver in Detroit back in the early 70’s. I learned about origins and the simplicity of structure and design. I moved to the mountains of North Carolina where I studied dyeing techniques at Penland School of Crafts. That acquaintance became a friend. I refined what I learned, developing a new technique of warp painting that melded fine art and fiber. I moved away but never stopped working with my hands. In 2005, I moved “home.” Now I work primarily in silk, experimenting occasionally with other fibers.
It seems we have come full circle with the distrust and disturbance. Perhaps working more with our hands and our hearts will calm and collect community. Only when I am not at the loom, do I have my fingers crossed.