I'm a self-taught artist, and I primarily work with fiber - knitting, embroidery, and a little weaving. For years I thought of this as a useful skill but nothing more: being able to repair my clothes and decorate my home, it was great - but didn't think it counted for much beyond that.
I took drawing classes as a child, but always got caught up in my limitations. In hindsight, that perfectionist streak really limited me.
In 2017, something changed. following a breakup I made my first big quilt. I'd planned to just patch some large holes in an old wool blanket (these a product of my grandfather's cigarette smoking), but over weeks of sewing the patches morphed into a vision of the cabin we stayed in as children up in the north woods.
At that time I was unmoored and unsure of my next steps, and the hand-stitching soothed my anxiety, while the familiar medium took away the pressure I'd created on myself when drawing to recreate things hyperrealistically. From there, more quilts followed, usually in bursts, and usually when I was distressed or struggling somehow.
More recently, i've undergone a series of major health changes, and it's been humbling to work my way through the health care system and to come to terms with new limitations of my body, and my art has evolved through that process. I found that even when I'm stuck in bed, i can still sew - and this has led me to create more elaborate and wild projects, which my sweet friends finally convinced me to show to the rest of the world.
