Now I can continue making break-up art.

The boy off-and-on for nearly 2 years and I are no more. And, unlike the last time when this happened, it was a mutual decision. And I'm not going to do the crazy things I did last time this happened. His birthday is December 28th, and it seems fitting that while we were not dating this summer he sent me a pretty awesome birthday package at camp (notebooks, Let's Get Primitive, collapsible chop-sticks, Luna bars, can't really recall what else at the moment...), and I'm going to do the same. Luckily, this go-round our lives (though not our evenings) were less entrenched, and I still have a lot of support both here in So Cal and back in Baltimore, which wasn't the case when I was an RA last January. Anyway, now I can finish my break-up hair quilt, and do the performance piece where print-outs of e-mails are produced and shredded ad inifinitum. In time, when I've processed enough, hopefully we'll be able to be friends, not just friendly. For now, however, my heart aches, and my eyes are sore, and I'm not going to be able to talk to him everyday (though I will still play Scrabulous against him), but I think I know this time in a way I didn't a year ago that I'm gonna be okay.

Oof.

After seeing the "Architecture of the Quilts of Gee's Bend" exhibit at the Baltimore Museum of Art recently, I was inspired by these beautiful work-clothes quilts. The women of Gee's Bend, isolated in a small town in Arkansas and several hours' from the nearest town, used the materials available to them as inspiration for the quilts that kept them and theirs warm. I'm using old jeans to make a rag-rug, onto which I will print cotton in bloom. The rag trade was integral (and is) to the lives of immigrants in America, a way where anyone, through hard work, could make a living and rise into the working class. Industry created workers, workers make money, producers become America's best consumers. But with the rise of outsourcing, the move of the source of our manufactured goods, well, anywhere but here, the rich history of mills and sewing machines, advent of jeans and sewing machines, immigrants camoflaging into American society, and thriftyness of the American households in lean times....these things are things lost to us. In building my school's sukkah today (yes it's late, don't ask), the topic came up and it occured to me that so few of us ever do without...without food, without music, without information, without something to do or somewhere to be. It's in that spirit that I'm making a rag rug from denim, sturdy and practical, hard-working and reflecting of the working class. That being said, the denim braid is much harder on the hands than anything else I've braided with, and I'm wondering how big a rug I can really make with the amount of tension I'm putting on my fingers. We'll see!

Commemorative Bedsheet

In honor of the end of my first big love, hacking off all of my hair (twice), I printed this commemorative bedsheet, using my hair as opposed to rubylith or a drawing on vellum or acetate to block the light on the silkscreen when I exposed it. I wish my screen mesh were a little finer, but even at 137 count, there's an interesting quality, wherein the hair sort of emerges, isn't entirely obvious, which I like. There's also something interesting about hair and sheets, because if this was ACTUAL hair, arranged in a repeat pattern, we'd be dealing with a totally different animal. First image above is of the sheet, the second is a close-up of my test prints. I've got one more screen to print, and then I'll be somewhat done with that project, though part of me does beg another part of me to do pillow-shams as well. They'd look great strung up on a line outside.

Rag rugging

The most recent project for Alison Smith's commemorative textiles class here at MICA, I'm turning old commemorative t-shirts, my mom's comforter from college, my scraps of the fabric I've designed and printed, and incomplete projects into a very colorful, very practical, rag rug. I'm braiding then sewing, and there's lots of cutting fabric on the bias, which I'm finding surprisingly enjoyable. The concept of this piece isn't monstrous--(that should be an m-dash, but I don't know how to do that in this here courier) take things which are taking up space, no longer practical for what they were intended, or take an emotional toll to look upon, to make something which goes on the floor and keeps your feet from feeling the chill. Something so inherently yours and personal that it gives you great pleasure to keep these things in a practical, non-hording way. And it doesn't matter I think that my audience won't know, because I know, and this project is for me. The current unit in that class, I should mention, is trench art. Next is Art Brut. Anyway, I'm chugging along on my rug, and taking in the weather. Found a room-mate for next year and am applying for housing in the Meyerhoff, so hopefully that goes well. It really depends due to the housing lottery. I've just had bad luck with my landlord, and I don't want to deal with that until I'm a grown-up (ie out of college or when I get my first grey hair, whichever comes first). It's sooo beautiful out, I think I may go biking to fells point before my TA position this afternoon/evening. Maybe I can convince Laura to let us take a walk to the Contemporary Museum or something?