.emerging softness.

 

Earlier in the year, I had a moment of a deep awareness of the limitations of receiving energy. In a moment of feeling overwhelmed I had clarity to see how my limits/assumptions/expectations prevented me from reconnecting with the energy. If I could stay open I could receive what I ask for, which might seem obvious, but asking to receive and being vulnerable enough to receive I realized are very different things for me.

As always, nature is the most perfect reflection and teacher. This moment happened in early March and the shrub-steppe was slowly waking up from a strange and dark winter, with the first signs of balsamroot pushing up through the dried blooms of last season - a reemergence. There's something so striking about the new growth rising about the dead - the resilience to bloom in what can be such a delicate time of unsure weather. It's a season of delicate strength. The emerging softness to absorb the faint warmth of the early spring sun. 

As I was going on walks and observing the budding landscape of the foothills, I saw another layer or perspective, the blooms as a returning to self - the healing of self-renewal. The beautiful and sometimes agonizing moments of disconnect and hurt and shame that can, if we are open bring us back to ourselves - forever healing and reemerging over and over again into a more authentic version of existence.

I was finishing a series of classes with Alice Fox about seasonal colors, taking lots of walks, observing the slow unfolding of the season taking my sketchbook - a new practice for me. The idea of this quilt came to me - the awkward first blooms - petals slowly emering. I envisioned the quilt on a walk - the muted winter hillside with the striking vibrant yellow petals.

With Alice's class focusing on finding local color as a way to capture a season and integrate more place into a piece, I only used natural dyed pieces for the quilt top. The cotton cloth is dyed acorn foraged from trees on the Columbia River and marigold blooms from a farm in Washington. The thread is a silk yarn dyed with Sycamore, also sourced from trees on the Columbia river and turmeric. 

With the quilt design, I wanted to play with a more minimal approach after my last stitched pieces, to see what impact more space/saying less could have. I love the contrast, the looseness the piece has and the concentrated energy in the pockets of blooms. I want to continue to play with the contract of density and sparseness of stitch in future pieces.

The piece measures 42 x 76 inches and is made of naturally dyed cotton, linen, and silk yarn.