Beautiful textiles from Deerfield's Memorial Hall Museum continued.  This is the fourth installment--and there will be at least two, possibly three more.

And, here we go with more wonderful textiles and other goodies from Deerfield's Memorial Hall Museum.  Some are particular to this exhibit which I think is over by 8/31 but others (most of these today, I think) are part of their permanent collection.

If you want to see the first two posts I did on this, they are from yesterday and the day before.

Last--and very definitely least (by comparison), here is my own bedspread.  It's mass-produced and frankly, cheap.  But when I was making my bed this morning, in between working on this blog post, I suddenly "saw" it for what it is--a pale imitation of these blue and white Deerfield embroideries that I've admired for decades!  And I never even made the association before.  DUH! 

It gave me a huge laugh.

Stay tuned for more Deerfield treats over the next few days.  I look a LOT of photos.

A lotta cats copy the Mona Lisa, but people still line up to see the original.
--Louis Armstrong

More from the Memorial Museum's current exhibit in Deerfield MA.  For the start of this series, see the previous post.

Last week I saw some truly lovely textiles at the Deerfield Memorial Museum.  Here's a small portion of what I saw.  I'll post more when I can.

I've been so busy teaching mindfulness meditation that I haven't had time to tangle (except for that last post) in weeks.  Oh boy, do I miss it.  Today I took a class called Renaissance Gold with Stefanie van Leeuwen in Holland.  (I love Zoom!  It has opened up a globe-full of teachers.)  This was the tile I produced in class.

She's a gifted teacher.  You can find her by clicking on her name above.  This has been a wildly popular class for her and you can see why.  The class was packed with Certified Zentangle Teachers (CZTs), always a good sign--sort of like going to dine in a new-to-you ethnic restaurant and noticing that many of the patrons are of that particular ethnicity:  You immediately know you are in good hands and that your meal will be the Real Deal.  We all had a relaxing time.

Art offers sanctuary to everyone willing to open their hearts as well as their eyes.
--Nikki Giovanni

Tonight is cloudy, but last night's moon--on its way to being full--was glorious.

Despite the turmoil and troubles in this country right now, I had a chance to take a class with Zenjo this morning, just to get myself going on tangling again.  Yes, it is so important to make our voices heard.  And, it's also important to take time to center ourselves so that we are responding effectively and skillfully, not just reacting from our (horrified) emotions.  And so I chose to take two hours of a class to find my center.  Here are the results--we first did a black and white tile, and then after the class was over I decided to tart up the tile with color.  Thanks, Jo, for a lovely calming time.

"And if you are to love,
love as the moon loves.
It doesn't steal the night.
It only unveils the beauty of the dark."
--Isra Al-Thibeh

Normally I don't do any type of tangling on representational art, but I made one exception for this small project yesterday.  It borders on being too cutesy for me but what the heck.  It's the product of a webinar I took from Zentangle® headquarters  in lieu of the large multi-day seminar they had to cancel due to the pandemic.

We'd all like to "fly away" from our current global situation.  I am lucky to be healthy so far, but have at least one sweet friend who is battling for her life at the moment.  Everyone fighting this (and really that's all of us, even those who aren't sick) is under stress.   I'll Fly Away is an old gospel song done by many choirs and artists since the 1930s.  It's in the repertoire of the hospice chorus I sing in.  Since I finished this tangled balloon, I've been hearing the song in my head.  If you click on the link above you'll hear Alison Krauss's version, recorded for the film, O Brother Where Art Thou, which had such a great soundtrack.

Here's the same piece photographed this morning in better light and on a white background.  Amazing how different things can look under different light.  Much like the way we view problems in life.

Slowly but surely it's coming along, and is it ever fun to do.  I am totally into this rug in a way I haven't felt about hooking in years.  Fun, fun, fun.

It's all about the color, and all about using up scraps that I've had for years.  No new fabric, just things I've stashed away and couldn't get to before I moved to this larger space.

In such a challenging time, when we are all in "lockdown" over this pandemic, it's lovely to work in my studio, playing with color and listening to music or simply enjoying the silence. 

But I'm aware of how many people are struggling--hungry, incredibly sick, risking infection by being a front-line provider, dealing with the loss of a loved one, or going bankrupt from losing a job and/or losing a business.  The fear, the anxiety, the terror.  So far my health is all right and I don't know anyone with the virus; I have a home and my finances are stable.  I have food, friends, love.  I meditate.  In short, I am unbelievably privileged; and I am very aware of it.  I'm also aware that my circumstances could change on a dime, any day.

May we all be safe and protected.  May we all be loved; may we find peace each day, no matter what happens.  And may we look after each other with compassion and kindness.

Finally finished yesterday, steamed one last time this morning, and hung on my kitchen wall this afternoon.  For such a small rug (I think the length is about 26"), it took me way too long to get it done.  But there's quite a story behind it, and while this rug is silly and funny, it means a lot to me.

Here's the story:

The original version of this pattern, which I have greatly modified, was designed by George Kahnle and hooked by his husband, Dick LaBarge.  I believe it was titled, "Americus Tunafishus" and Dick dyed the wool and hooked it in red, white, and blue as a patriotic rug.  I first saw the finished piece in Vermont at a rug show, and took note of it as I am a tuna fan.  Note:  It even says, "Loves tuna fish" under my photo in my old high school yearbook.  And one of my memories of my dad is that he ate a tuna sandwich for lunch every day of his life--apparently my fondness for tuna is genetic.  (I do know about the mercury danger and the over-fishing, and am pretty careful about where I get my tuna)

The original pattern is still available from Betsy Reed of Heavens to Betsy; she bought Dick & George's pattern stock from their former business, Hooked On the Creek.  After I heard that Dick had died in 2018, I'm sure I bought the pattern from her late that year.  It isn't shown on her website but if you ask, I believe she can bring it up.  As I said, the original pattern doesn't resemble my rug much.  I changed the wording and I completely redrew the fish.

Dick and George were just two of the nicest, most talented, and funniest guys I've ever met and I adored them both.  I never got to visit them in Victory Mills, NY, where they lived, worked, and taught rug hooking for decades.  They also had a fabulous antique store.  But I was fortunate to take some classes with them in Vermont and count them as friends.

They were devoted to each other and were life partners long before it was safe to declare their relationship.  I believe they were finally able to marry in 2012, just two years before George died, aged 82.  Dick died in 2018 and he was 85.  I swear I miss them both to this day.  When I heard Dick was gone, I sat down and cried; but then I began to smile as I remembered how funny he and George were, and all the good times we had in their classes. 

I knew I wanted to hook a rug in their honor, and this is it.

I just took a look at both their obituaries and true to form, it's Dick's memorial write-up that says it all.  George's is short and contains few details, but you can get a flavor of both of them from reading Dick's.

Dear friends, I am thinking of both of you today with much gratitude for your fine teaching and the hilarity and kindness you offered those of us who knew you. 

I miss you.

Doing a bit of practice with Zen Gems today.  I've done these before but took a class with Joanne Quincey ("ZenJo") who has a great website HERE, and who gave the best explanation of blending with colored pencils that I've ever heard.  Kudos to you, Jo, and thanks.  Will be practicing more.  I love studying with other artists.

"Better a diamond with a flaw then a pebble without." 
(supposedly said by Confucius, but if everything attributed to him was proven, he'd still be alive and talking, right?)

Whew.  The last two weeks have been a blur, and none of it holiday-related.  I'm not a holiday celebrator (no offense to those who are--if you enjoy it all, more power to you), so most years, while others may be stressing out buying gifts, sending cards, gathering with family, I am nurturing my introverted self with quiet and reflection--I love it!  But not this year.  Visitors--welcome indeed but unusual for this month--a few minor health inconveniences, a couple of intensive workshops, and  on and off insomnia have combined to create more stress than usual.  But it's all good, and it will all straighten out.

Many projects are underway.  I have been working to finish my punched pillow.  First I had to un-punch and re-punch some areas, and then begin the finishing process.  It's a time-taker but I hope it will be worth it.  Here's what I re-punched:

I got that fix done (all will be revealed once I get the pillow completed), and now I'm into the messy process of creating and binding the back.   This boring looking beige-y broadcloth was the single fabric I could find that would not clash horribly with the front.  Hopefully it won't show once it's done.  I'm creating an "envelope back" for the first time, and sure hope it works.

Next up:  a good friend and I were lucky enough to go to a workshop with the Zentangle® folks at the Kripalu Institute in Lenox, Massachusetts, and the focus was creating a Compass Rose.  I had made one before in 2016, and you can find it HERE in this blog.  I wrote about the origins there as well.  We used a very different method this time (no protractor, just folding the paper).  All of us made small Zendala versions first and here was the class mosaic (some are missing from this mosaic):

We then moved on to beginning the actual Compass Rose.  I wish I'd thought to take more pictures.  I only have one "before" photo, below.  Wish I'd taken pics from the folding-stage through the initial black and white stage, then adding color, then embellishing, etc.  This (below) was perhaps almost halfway through.  I wasn't enamored of it at this stage.  That is an understatement.

We then added the North arrow and used the Embedded Letter tangle technique.  I liked it a bit better but was still dubious.  We added a bit of gold gellyroll as well.  Still dubious.  However, that was as far as we got in the workshop and I took my tile home, where it sat for over 2 weeks until I had time to get to it. 

That happened today.  Below is the finished (??) piece.

Yup, working and taking my time on it definitely improved things.

Finally, I took a chance on a product I saw on a Kickstarter campaign and it arrived last night.  I haven't yet had a chance to play with it:

Looks like it will work great, but I've yet to take it for a test-drive. 
Just too darned busy. 
A good night's sleep would also help.

Whatever possessed me to start and finish this 6"-in-diameter Zendala in one day?  I am truly ready to fall of my perch.  Tired...

This was another class from The Tangled Yogi, whose wonderful videos and fine classes you can find by clicking on her link in this sentence.  She has a unique and incredibly helpful way of teaching.  I wish you could have seen the mosaic (collection of student work) on this one.  No two looked anything alike--coloring was wildly different.  Similar, yes, but still, vastly different.  The magic of Zentangle® for sure.

I advise students on the subject of color as follows:
If it looks good enough to eat, use it.
(Abe Ajay)

A friend stopped by my house today, exhausted and distraught, sharing a very sad but very familiar story of serious family trouble.  I think I may have been the first person outside the family she told.  There was nothing I could do but listen.  I can only hope that being present with her, and listening, was enough to help.

She was here for hours.  After she left I had to help myself, so I did this "variation," of the tile above, experimenting with what I'd learned in Zen Linea's class to produce this on a Bijou tile (2"x2"):

Listening with loving-kindness was the only thing I could do.  

I am frequently reminded, as I hear other people speak of what they are going through, of how fortunate I really am.  I am grateful for my life, with all its warts and minor upsets and imperfections.  And with all its privilege and grace.

Compared to what some of those who matter to me are going through,  I often feel like the luckiest person on earth.

May she and her family heal.  May all those who suffer heal.  May all of us know peace.

I do love punch needle embroidery.  This is my wildly different interpretation of The Old Tattered Flag's Dutch Tulip Pattern.  I needed to be doing something that was meditative during the last couple of weeks, and this fit the bill.

It's been a hard week.  I'll leave it at that.

Two years ago I started hearing about this show, which is only run every other year.

Because I was sick, I missed the 2017 show and was determined to get to this one.  I made it to Vermont today and am glad I did.  This show is held at the Pompanoosuc Mills home base in Vermont, a gigantic workshop building where their signature furniture is made and the location of their flagship showroom. 

Why a rug & fiber show there?  Because Ed O'Keeffe, the Showroom and Web Manager, is also a rug hooking artist.  Ed teamed up with Jennifer Davey, another rug hooking artist and a past president of the Green Mountain Rug Hooking Guild (GMRHG), to mount this show on an "off-year" from the big show that is put on biannually by GMRHG.  Because the Pompy showroom is simply immense, there is a lot of wall space.  It's the perfect place to hang rugs!  And hang they did--check out these wonderful pieces below.  Note that I did not get pictures of all the rugs, only about half of the ones on display.

I should add here that all these rugs came from the talented members of the Green Mountain Rug Hooking Guild.  I'm thinking that Jennifer and Ed selected them from the Guild's bi-annual show and curated them for this display.

Another of Dana's astounding rugs, Red Riding Hood, was also on display here, but I have already dedicated an entire previous blog post to Dana. Her Red Riding Hood rug is so spectacular that an Australian rug maker did a blog post on it that's in-depth and quite good.  Don't miss it!  You can find it HERE.  And to see more of Dana's work, check my previous post about her HERE.

Despite these many photos, there were at least as many, if not more, rugs and wall hangings on display (and of course, the beautiful furniture everywhere as well).  If you are in the area, this show is well worth a visit. 

Details on how to get there and the duration of the show are on the postcard at the top of this post.  Enjoy!

I did the above tile late last night just before sleep.  It's two of the Inktober 2019 days together, days 4 and 5.  I have quite a bit of catching up to do.

But of course this isn't a race.  After yesterday's spectacular foliage display, I decided that I wanted to shade the tile above in all the colors I had seen in the leaves on my trip.  And there were a LOT of colors.  I pulled out my General's Pastel Chalk pencils and set to work, with this result below.  The blue represents the intense blue sky behind the leaves.

And here they are side by side:

“Autumn...the year's last, loveliest smile."
― John Howard Bryant

“I'm so glad I live in a world where there are Octobers.”
― L. M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

Next Sunday afternoon is the full moon, in the corner of the universe where I live.  It's supposed to be unusually large.  And orange.  I chose to ignore the orange for this Zendala tile, which I did for Hanny Nura's monthly celebratory Full Moon Mosaic.  If you google "Full Moon Mosaic" on Facebook or Instagram you'll see some amazing entries.

Meanwhile, I've been asked to do a Zentangle® demo at a local organization and in thinking about which tangle to ask participants to do, I'm going to use this one, Fassett by Lynne Meade.  Which means I need to practice it myself, having only ever done it once or twice--and of course I'm falling in love with it.  This was my first try at it, done on a Renaissance Bijou tile (2" square).

Ahhh, the start of October and cooler weather.  I hope.  It's also the start of the annual drawing event, Inktober.  There are many versions of this, and a few of them focus on tangling.  I used today's prompt (the tangle Printemps) as the string for this tangle, then put more Printemps inside it, along with Flux and Shattuck.  I like the result but I also ran in thru my iPhone app and the color version was very fun.

My form of church, that is. 

I left very early today to meet a friend and fellow textile artist on a rural road 45 minutes from my home.  Each with rugs in tow.  Our goal was to drape the rugs we brought over the stone wall that looks over a meadow and then down, down, down into a huge reservoir (part of which is just barely visible over the tops of the trees and under the surrounding hills) and get a decent photo.  I ran the resulting picture thru an iPhone app and got this.  I'm pleased.  It's a mix of a few of my rugs and a few of her rugs. 

This picture describes my spiritual life--the natural world plus a meditative form of craft such as traditional rug hooking.  

The light, the earth, the stones, the colors, the sun, the clouds, the wind, the water, the trees, the hills. 

I can't think of a better place to be on a Sunday morning in the autumn.

“The sun shines not on us but in us.”
― John Muir

This image adorned the cover of my old 1979 calendar, one of the many I bought annually from rubber stamp artist Susan Riecken, who seems to have disappeared; I can't find any online presence for her and the last calendar I was able to get from her was in the early 1990s.  After that she closed her Cambridge studio and I couldn't find a trace of her.  Here is the actual cover of that calendar:

I completely adored her work.  Each calendar was a labor of love.  She carved the stamps from erasers and in the early years I *think* she hand-stamped each calendar, though I'm not sure.  Pretty soon she had the hand-stamped pages reproduced so that she could produce the calendars in bulk, but that never interfered with the delicious colors or the funky marvelous designs.  She was/is an art idol of mine.  Wishing her well wherever she is, and hoping she's well and happy and making more art, even if I cannot find her.

About my interpretation/copy of her sunflowers:  I knew when I ran across this calendar the other day that I wanted to try making a "stamp-like" design by scratching away on an Art Scratch tile.  Using a wooden stylus would, I thought give the same chunky effect as a carved stamp.  I think I was right.

Woke up early today and used the extra time to do this tangle.  I had watched a Romi Marks (Tangled Yogi) video and used most but not all of her tangles for this. 

She uses colored pencils, as have I when I've used her paper tiles, made from cardstock so they are very smooth and handle colored pencils beautifully. 

I was using a regular Zentangle® tile today, though.  That's made from printmaking paper and has a lot of tooth.  So I went with General's Chalk Pencils for the color. 

Today all I knew when I sat down to draw was that I wanted to work on something blue, invoking the quiet calm of that color.  When more than a day passes with no drawing, I get tangle-deprivation syndrome.  So, waking early was a pleasure; meditation is easier for me at that time of day, and I've noticed that any drawing I do at dawn or after dusk tends to be less self-conscious than when I draw during the day. 

Blue color is everlastingly appointed by the deity to be a source of delight.
--John Ruskin

I took another tangling class today, this one with Heidi Halpern Kay, a talented artist who has been teaching for only one year.  She has no website that I can find, but she's active on Pinterest and Facebook.  My hope in taking all these recent classes has been that they would inspire me to get back my creative mojo.  I think it's working, although I won't know until I begin doing my own designs again. 

The big news for me is that I've begun another hooked rug.  It's not at the stage where I can show anything; everything so far is just experimental and it will be awhile until I have something to show.  This is one reason I think I'm starting to get back some mojo.  Hurrah!

"What art offers is space--a certain breathing room for the spirit."
--John Updike