I discovered how much fun it was to hang out with the good folks at Adobe Books and sew with whoever showed up.
MERCY resonates in my heart as I own the harshness with which I judge myself and others in countless minute ways every day.
Improv patchwork begins by setting a few limits, including color limits. This is exactly what I've been pleasantly busy doing this past week.
One thing I learned early on, as I shared my story with others, they in turn shared theirs. The development of an idea is a collaborative process.
The act of opening and closing a quilt whispers some sacred truth about the revelation of life's moments and the hiding away of memory.
It's an interior space that speaks about the confinement of imagination. Installed at the Headlands Center for the Arts, 1998.
Alien She at YBCA and Ladies Sasquatch by Allyson Mitchell rocked. YES! I am WOMAN! I am BEAST!
It's as if I've been on a boat for the last year and a half and I've just been dropped off on a new shore in my life. Everything is new. Everything is YES! Many thanks to all who've been on the journey with me.
Remembering a geo-psychic, temporary public art project for the city of Durham, NC, that marked the beginning of urban (and personal) renewal.
I'm going to survey regulars who live and work here: What creative thing could be done to change patterns of neglect and violence on our corner?
Celebrating the Day of the Dead reminds me that human worth based on financial wealth is a fiction that I don't have to buy into or vote for.
A quilt is both a 3-dimensional and a 2-dimensional space. It unifies the visual waves of painting with the embodied elements of sculpture.
I'm concluding my trip to Death Valley with this beautifully chanted mantra. It's a Hebrew blessing, thanking God for imparting strength.
I'm now in the desert on the home stretch. This mantra reminds me that I AM strong and I will go the distance!
I'm now in the desert half way through my week. This mantra reminds me to feel great gratitude for the glory of the landscape that is so much more than me.
There is plenty of solitude in the desert but this mantra reminds me that even though I'm alone right now I am connected.
I'm on my way to Death Valley today. This mantra reminds me of the stark desert that I'm choosing to visit alone.
Today is All Souls Day, a time for commemorating the faithful departed. The death of my mother influenced my creative trajectory for years after wards. The Prayer Banners are one such project. The post below was originally written for Crafting the Sacred, and was published there earlier this month. I drew this picture of my mother, Linda Susan Wood, only a few hours before she died on Christmas Eve day, 2003. Notice the journal entry to the left. The last line reads...
I was thinking of rage and grief... and my desire to be a prophet, to sew banners bearing the names of the dead arranged to declare REPENT!
Diagnosed with pancreatic cancer the previous July my mom lived six more months. During that time I moved in with my parents and helped my father with her care. It was an abundant and sacred time, filled with sorrow and joy.
During her last days the war in Iraq was in the news every night. Not yet a year old, the war had claimed the lives of about 230 Americans, and countless Iraqis. I was angry about the war and I was angry about my mother's death. I kept thinking of the families, like mine, who were experiencing the holiday season in mourning.
Reminded of the Kentucky Graveyard quilt made in the 1943 by Elizabeth Roseberry Mitchell and her two daughters to mourn the death of her sons, the idea of stitching the names of the dead soldiers onto cloth coffins came to me as a way to convert my rage into compassion, to connect my suffering with the suffering of other families facing the loss of loved ones.
I began Prayer Banner: REPENT in January 2004. I consider the act of stitching a name on the coffin as an act of prayer and petition. The posture of embroidery, head bent towards the hands with the heart in between, is an internal, meditative posture.
Akin to the Buddhist practice of Tonglen, I experience the stitching as a mediation on letting go. As I sew I breathe in the anger and suffering of the family of the person who's name I am stitching, and breathe out compassion and love for myself and others suffering loss along with me.
At first I stitched alone but soon I took the Prayer Banners to the streets, churches, schools, museums, galleries, and homes. The purpose of holding public sewing circles, is not so much to memorialize the dead but to provide opportunities for communal bereavement.
Stitching the name of the dead is a simple activity that allows people to connect to their sense of communal loss and to do this with people in their community that they might not otherwise interact with. Close to 1000 people have stitched on the Prayer Banners.
The banners stand as a witness for the dead. The hand stitched coffins are arranged to spell words that speak to the degradation of war and call for change. The first Prayer Banner spells the word REPENT. The second in the series spells the word MERCY. The third will spell the word GLORY.
Someone once told me that while looking at the Prayer Banners they thought about all of the time it took to stitch the names and of all of the lives lost - the wasted time and wasted lives, lives that should never have been wasted.
Many of you helped stitched names on navy blue coffins, during the virtual sewing circle I held last year. Now I'm working to hand stitch those coffins on the banner to spell the word MERCY. When this blanket is full of coffins, the coffins on the next prayer banner will spell the word GLORY.
The Prayer Banners will be hanging at St. Gregory of Nyssa Episcopal Church in San Francisco next Sunday on the 10th anniversary of 9/11. There will be a participatory sewing circle in the sanctuary between liturgies, from 9:30 - 10:20 AM.
I started this mourning meditation in 2003. For more about the project's meaning and trajectory visit Prayer Banners: REPENT / MERCY / GLORY.
[slickr-flickr tag="penlandparade" type="slideshow" size="m640" captions="off" align="center"] How do you like our 4th of July improv pieced flags? We each made a section and then added onto our neighbor's flags, sort of like a crazy improv round robin.
Of course it all culminated in marching for the annual 4th of July parade at Penland School of Crafts.