Archive for Personal Archeology

..and I was Keeping this Because???

Detail of a muslin tube used to ship a carpet from TibetKeep reading to the end – contest notice at the bottom. As my blogs about my Personal Archeology continues (otherwise known as cleaning out the studio), today I’m really showing some of my more embarrassing saves. The detail shot on the left is of a muslin sleeve that was used to ship a small, hand knotted carpet from Tibet. My neighbors were visiting a cottage carpet “factory”, and they bought it for me as a present. There’s quite a story about how the carpet had trouble clearing customs in Los Angeles, and then sat for three months in the local post office before being delivered to my neighbors so they could give it to me. I love the carpet,(and so does one of my cats), but keeping the sleeve? Since it was fabric, I justified keeping it for a number of years, but finally resorted to cutting out a piece of the 48″ (122 cm) tube that had the “from” address. Maybe that will make it into a future project…who knows? It certainly takes up less room.

Detail of crocheted tavle runnerHere’s another find that was being saved for the right re-purposing project that never appeared. It had originally been a table runner for an antique table in my first apartment. Made of cotton butcher’s twine, each of the individual squares measures about 4″ or 10 cm square. Each of the three squares that made up the width of the runner were crudely stitched together with more of the cotton twine using a very large eyed needle. (We were so intense back in those “hippie” days!) After the full length had been created, (about 48″ or 122 cm), then I turned the piece sideways and crocheted an edging the entire length. It took quite awhile to make all of those squares, but given the thickness of the twine, it was hard to get things to sit on top of the runner evenly. Even worse, food/wine stains that weren’t taken care of immediately, got even worse over time, and the big splotch in the center of the above photo was one of the least obtrusive flaws. This piece became relegated to the recycle bin.

Section of an orange chenille bathmatHere’s probably one of my really embarrassing saves. Several years ago, there were a number of products, especially sweaters, that included chenille. They were very soft and comfy, but the trouble was that after a few times in the wash, they loops started to come out. The photo on the left is of an orange bath mat that I loved, but quickly became pretty threadbare.

Close-up view of threadbare chenille bathmatIn this closer view, you can see just how empty some of the sections are of their little chenille loops. My big plan was that since there was already an exposed, underlying warp and weft where the loops had been, I could stitch, weave, and bead into those areas and create an orange landscape. One of my favorite books in my collection is KNITTED GARDENS by Jan Messent. I love her use of textures to create very tactile looking landscape surfaces such as little houses, bushes and animals that rise from the a garden surface to make a 3-D garden. I thought that my old bath mat would be a great framework on which to work. That was a “big” plan that never manifested. I began to realize just how heavy that bathmat would be sitting on my lap or on my small portable sewing table to execute the project. Another really important question to ask myself while searching for additional space for what I do want to keep was if I really was ever going to start any project using this bathmat.  One of the cats has now claimed it as his nest in my studio, as both cats like to be near me wherever I work. He’s stopped laying on piles of my fabric and he could care less that the piece has holes in it.

CONTEST NOTICE 

As I was finishing this public confession regarding the “treasures” that I’ve saved over the years, I’ve thought of a great community building project. In the comments section, if you’ll tell us about the most embarrassing thing that you’ve kept for a future piece of artwork but never used, I’ll award prize(s) for the ones that I find the most compelling/unusual/quirky. The contest will run until Oct 31, and the prize(s) will be a small stash of some of my treasures mailed to you for you to include, or not, in your own medium. Since here in the States, Oct. 31st is Halloween, I think this would be a great time to be a little wild and crazy. Want to play???? Tell us about one of your most embarrassing saves for some future art/creativity project and receive a stash of my trash (I mean “treasures”!)

You can see more of my art work on my web site at www.fiberfantasies.com (be patient as it loads; it’s worth it) and can find me on Google + , Facebook,  and Twitter.

To find out how to buy my art work, please check out “How to Buy my Art Work” in the “Pages” section to the right of this blog.

Personal Archeology(2)

Yarn embroidery on burlap backgroundWith this blog, I’m continuing on my quest for documenting my own Personal Archeology, otherwise known as cleaning out the studio. I’ve had a long connection with textiles over the years, as evidenced by this very crude embroidery that I did in late high school/early college. I remember that it ended up on the walls of my first apartment, and was sort of indicative of that rough,untutored style of the early 70s. Everybody was into a lot of macrame and we crocheted with our fingers. Those “hippie” days were about being in touch with ourselves and the materials and craftsmanship was not much of an issue.

The large stitches on the gold burlap backing didn’t fare too well over the years. The untreated, stained wooden frames that stretched the burlap gradually leached tannin into the backing material. Conservation and composition wise, this piece was a disaster, but maybe it spurred a few conversations over some nice dinners.

Felted wool sample from a workshopHere’s another piece that I’ve been keeping maybe twenty years to include in the right project. It hasn’t come up yet. To the untutored eye, it might appear as a pile of colorful dryer lint. It’s actually a felted wool sample made in a  felt making workshop I attended years ago. Some colored wool roving (strands of wool not plied or woven yet) was dampened and compressed under heat to make this base. You can see where a few black and white strands of plied yarn were overlaid to outline some of the areas before the heat was applied. The result, to my eyes, is an amorphous blob that never inspired me to do anything else with it. There are some amazing pieces of art work being done these days with felted wool, but in my opinion, this sample was not one of them, so it stayed in a drawer until my recent cleaning campaign.

Weaving sample from a Smithsonian classThis weaving sample will probably still stay on the wall of my studio where it has lived for over thirty years. About 12″ or 30.5 cm tall x 10″ or 25.5 cm wide, it’s the result of a six week long class that I took at the Smithsonian in the early 70s. Their Smithsonian Associates Program has taught fantastic art classes for over 40 years, and the products of those classes were a great way for me to build my portfolio to get into graduate school at the Maryland Institute College of Art. This particular class involved having someone shearing a sheep for us, then we carded the wool and then hand spun it with drop spindles to make the yarn. Natural dyes such as various flowers and onion skins were utilized to color the yarns and then finally they were woven into this crude sample. (Hippie days weren’t over yet, remember?) This small output of six weeks worth of work just made me grateful that I didn’t have to depend on my own devices to clothe a family, as they would have had to go naked most of the time if it had been left up to my efforts.

I’ve dabbled in a lot of different media over the years until I finally settled on art quilts as my fav. However, perhaps if I had practiced more on other techniques they would have become more developed. It certainly has been interesting as I’ve been opening boxes and drawers in my studio to give myself some sense of control over my stash. Control however, can be just an illusion, but at least I feel better about having less “things”, as not as many boxes are crashing to the floor these days.

What kinds of former creations have you found lately and what feelings did they evoke? Any regrets as you cull your stash, or have you found a successful way to re-purpose them?

Why not leave a comment as to your thoughts on this posting. Please take a minute, fill out the form below or by clicking on the “comments/no comments link” at the top of the posting, and then share your ideas with the rest of us. We all grow when we share our thoughts and impressions, so why not join our growing community of those who appreciate art quilts and textile arts. We’d love to hear from you!

You can see more of my art work on my web site at www.fiberfantasies.com (be patient as it loads; it’s worth it) and can find me on Google + , Facebook,  and Twitter.

To find out how to buy my art work, please check out “How to Buy my Art Work” in the “Pages” section to the right of this blog.

Fabrics Through My Time

Apron I made for my Grandmother's "newspaper route" at her nursing homeIt turns out that my fascination with fabrics over the years has not just been with art quilts. As my mother has been getting older, my brother, sister, and I have been helping to clean out her home of 50 years. As we sift through all of the things she’s been acquiring, (and we left behind as we moved out of the house), I’ve uncovered a number of textile pieces that I’ve been involved with that have meaning for me. It’s been a sort of personal archeology of my past, digging into the corners of the attic and excavating the backs of drawers and closets.

The photo on the left is of an apron that I made for my grandmother’s “paper route” at the Methodist Home where she spent her last days. The administration tried to give the residents meaningful tasks, and my grandmother’s job was to roll up each subscriber’s newspaper, rubber band it, and put their name on it. She complained about how the print ink stained her clothes, and so I made her some protective coverings. I got two carpenter’s aprons from a hardware store, and covered the pockets with sturdy, striped canvas. Along the top of the apron, I machine embroidered the name of the local newspaper. She was quite proud of her “uniforms”, and sauntered around in them them with obvious pride. I was pleased to see that my mother had the two still stashed in a drawer, and so I kept them.

Embroidered canvas, 1972, by Nancy SmeltzerMy mother is the type that always gushed over whatever her children made for her, (including bouquets of dandelions or goldenrod) and this small piece of hand embroidery made of yarn and canvas, (10.5″ x 8.5″ or 26.75cm x 21.5cm) hung on the wall of the family den for a number of years. It was made by me in 1972, and I imagine that it was a Christmas present that I made when I didn’t have a lot of money to buy something. The image is rather crude, but does speak to my fascination, even then, with textures, as there are a lot of French knots on the piece. (I had just finished my undergrad degree and was exploring textiles as an art form.) Some of the heavier yarns have been couched down with thinner floss and to emphasize the joining of some of the intersecting lines. The colors have weathered the years well and not faded very much, but then they weren’t in sunlight.

Unfinished potholder on a frameHere is a photo of something that would not have meant probably anything to anybody else except to me. This small potholder frame, (7.25″ sq or 19 cm square), constructed a lifetime’s worth of potholders when I was about 9 years old. I learned to make them at the local playground during the summers, and for some reason, I found them fascinating. There was something very comforting about weaving the horizontal weft loops under and over the vertical warp loops. I quickly learned that there were other combinations  besides over one, under one, and when I learned to finger crochet the edges to secure them, I was sure that I had arrived at the height of textile dexterity. I’m not quite sure why there was only one green loop at the bottom of this unfinished piece, but I surely smiled when I brought it out into the daylight again from the drawer in which it had been hidden for over 50 years.

As I’ve been going through what’s in my mother’s house, I’ve also learned that what has meaning to you will quite possibly be just useless junk to someone else and if left to others, will be thrown out. I encourage you to write down your family stories and mark on the back of objects who they belonged to, and how they were used. That way, others who are helping with a clean-up will know of the importance of something to you, and it won’t be thrown out.

What memories do you have of creating art when you were little? What are some of your favorite tools and media that you used? Were you a finger painter or did you make mud pies out of your mother’s salt cellars like I did?

Why not leave a comment as to your thoughts on this posting. Please take a minute, fill out the form by clicking on the “comments/no comments link” at the top of the posting, and then share your ideas with the rest of us. We all grow when we share our thoughts and impressions, so why not join our growing community of those who appreciate art quilts and textile arts. We’d love to hear from you!

You can see more of my art work on my web site at www.fiberfantasies.com

To find out how to buy my art work, please check out “How to Buy my Art Work” in the “Pages” section to the right of this blog.