a story of a sewing machine

a very, very sad one indeed. my mom gave it to me i think in college, or maybe it was grad school. regardless, i've busted it out once in like 20 yrs it seems like. no really. it's very sad. i remember chris' mom gave him one about the same time, a much older and heavier version. so for years, literally we've schlepped these sad and useless machines back and forth across the country, from town to town and house to house. each of us making a pact to use them, or at least try to learn how to use them. did we? no never. until a couple of months ago, after moving the darn thing around AGAIN, i decided that i'd needed to do this and now. somewhere along the way, during another move we ditched one of them (not mine). i knew that mine was next if i couldn't make this happen and soon. so, the poor lowly singer - emerged from it's case. dirty and sticky - who can imagine why. anyway. i immediately dove right in. bear with me as a turn a very short story into a novel.

right after moving i got it in my head that i wanted to be a street artist down on the embarcadero. well, believe it or not, there's actually a very comprehensive screening process, in which each artist has to present a fairly large number of completed and half-completed pieces to a committee. so, i had a TON of prints made in preparation for this wild, hair-brained scheme. i've been trying to re-work the digital print pieces in such a way that they pass from pen and ink, to digital rendering, and back to a more "real" vice, such as a third textile element, maybe fabric or paper or something. it's been this open-ended conundrum for me as i haven't been very certain as to what the thing should be. and then i realized that my fantasies of sewing my drawings would be perfect for this.


so anyway, after detailing and semi-restoring my poor singer, i attempted this drawing with sewing-machine layer for the first time. what a disaster. i had so much to learn. who did i think i was? i haven't used a sewing machine since 8th grade. really. i know i used this machine for something before, but i have no idea what it was. anyway, defeated i decided i needed different needles and thread and i really, more than anything else needed a mentor. well, mentorless, however fully loaded with a variety of needles and thread, i attempted again and quickly learned that it was so much more satisfying to simply use the machine to make holes - regular and perfectly spaced. i liked this. it wasn't what i imagined i'd be doing with this idea, but it was nonetheless totally fun and liberating. as i may have mentioned in other posts, i am not a perfectionist. in fact my ability to create something that has flawless utility or more relevant in this case, is masterfully created is horrible. for me, it takes the fun out of the job. i have rules and guidelines, but usually, they are mine and mine alone. technical applications, such as sewing a functional anything is beyond my interest. getting the thread and needle to work harmoniously with the paper was disenchanting. i lost interest completely. HOWEVER, drawing with the machine was AWESOME and the result was really exciting for me. i will always admire and one day hope to acquire a piece of tucker's work, but for now, i will simply stick to this new fun tool.





i saw a book exhibit at the Legion of Honor years ago and a local artist created these unbelievably simple, yet delicate and beautiful landscape drawings on thick white drawing paper, using thin, white thread. it was love at first site. it's rare that i'm completely smitten by someone's work without knowing anything about them, but there i was. totally dazed. of course, being the disorganized person i was/am, wrote her name down in some random place, never to be found again. i walked into dick blick a couple of weeks ago, and there she was, a book of textile artists. random and thrilling all at the same time. ahhh, the inspiration i needed. i had no inspiration. i will never be able to create pieces like her's but i do admire them and am absolutely taken by the idea. it's brilliant.


i've taken the holes and used them as a template for needle and thread - by hand, layered with paper and glued in such a way that the paper has it's own presence, not resembling paper. then i have to ad yet another element which is the premise of most of my series' and that is that they each (drawing that is) run into each other. the lines always connect. so i'm chopping the drawings up in quarters and collage 4 different drawings together to make one. the lines of digital ink eventually converge, but ultimately connect by thread and paper. It ain't no Tucker Schwartz, but it is very much a Renee DeCarlo Johnson.