twist 1
Two rabbits run through the vegetable patch. They’ve nibbled the ends of the fresh green leaves of the tulips that the previous owners scattered in between the raised beds.
Each leaf now has an edge like broderie anglaise.
twist 2
I’m making papier-mâché vessels inspired by objects from my paintings. I cover one of them with old embroidery patterns that have moved from house to house to house to house over the last twelve years. I knew I was keeping them for a reason.
twist 3
A raccoon walks through the garden with a dead rabbit in its mouth.
I Google ‘natural racoon deterrents’: wolf urine, apple cider vinegar, Epsom salts.
twist 4
What happened?
That’s my two-year-old grandson’s reaction to entering my art studio for the first time. Yes, it does look like a flock of birds got trapped in there and flapped around knocking everything over.
twist 5
I spend American Mothers’ Day pruning. I love to prune. I’m always amazed at how strong plants grow back once I’ve cut out their dead wood and encouraged them to consolidate their energy.
I make notes about what needs to be cut out of my art practice for it to be re-energised.
twist 6
I’m painting with my grandson. I try to teach him to dip the brush into the water before the paint: Water, paint, paper! But even making the phrase into a little ditty sung to the tune of ‘Three Blind Mice’ doesn’t convince him that’s the right way and he slurps up a chunk of paint on the brush, stirs it around in the jar of water and carefully dabs it onto the paper.
I sit back, shut up, and leave him to it.
I paint. I so happy. He says.
Six-ply embroidery floss was invented around 1840. Each single strand can be used to create more delicate stitches but twisted together they form a strong, unbreakable thread.
Spring wraps around my practice like a twist of golden thread. Weaving in and out of my daily activities, Spring runs through my studio bringing fresh energy and new ideas. The season reminds me of the circularity of life, how interconnected I am with nature and how much stronger I am when I twist all the threads of my life together and allow them to hold me.
Capitalism encourages us to unravel the threads and dangle one strand in front of others as if it were the most important. That’s the way to make money, we’re told. But that isn’t how nature functions. And it certainly isn’t how humans thrive. We won’t survive unravelled.
Strength and power don’t lie in one individual thread, they lie in the tightly twisted cord. Once unravelled, the process of re-twisting is an arduous one. It can’t be done alone.
At this time of deep conflict on our mother planet, I cast out my golden thread to you. Pull on it if you need help and weave it into your practice. Every weekend I open Chat for community support, conversation, questions, rants, moans, celebrations. It’s free and open to all subscribers.
I’d love you to twist your Private View with mine.
With love x
Until next time.
JC
Your grandson's art skills sound pretty much on a par with mine! Lovely post, Jacqueline, giving us a much rounder view of the artist's life. And very spring-like!