Almost two years ago a group of fibre artists in Nova Scotia came together with the intent of meeting regularly to support one another and share experiences. The initial organizers called it a Fibre Arts Bee which we now refer to as FAB. We keep the size of the group manageable at ten to twelve members and try to meet monthly. Each of us is responsible for hosting a meeting, generally in a public facility. The meetings are loosely structured. Someone leads a demonstration or discussion and then there is food and and a show and tell. We don't have a complicated mandate but there was sufficient interest to mount a themed show within the first year and it appears that there is a second show in the offing.
In an earlier post I wrote about finding my tribe at the SAQA meeting. FAB has become my village. I feel at home there. The group is diverse but that's our strength. Every village needs grocers, farmers, teachers and at least one plumber. We have specialists in machine work and handwork, hand dyes and surface design, and abstract and representational art. Some like colour and some prefer grey (that would be me!). Some are planners and others are much more spontaneous. Over the course of the last sixteen months we have all incorporated something from the others into our work and lives. And like a village, people move away and newcomers bring added richness.
It was my turn to host the group this week. I was proud to share the great facilities at the St. Margaret's Centre. Karen Henry led us through the steps of creating new fabric by weaving together two or more fabrics. The results can be subtle or bold, simple or complex depending on our needs. Some people followed along and others did their own thing while we all chatted and laughed. After lunch we had show and tell where people discussed projects in progress or completed. Not everyone has something to show each month and that's fine. Life gets in the way.
I chose not to reveal my cats quite yet because I want the first two to be seen together. But I was able to describe and work on another project. I had asked FAB members for contributions to the first stage and several brought me what they had made. I did the final handwork on them during the meeting. The photo shows an array of what I received. I will post more details on this project and the first of several iterations in a few days.
I first saw a reference to El Anatsui on Kathy Loomis's blog Art With a Needle. Kathy is an accomplished art quilter who has a deep interest in visual art. She often reports on her visits to museums and shows and her reviews are both informative and refreshing.
El Anatsui is a Ghanaian artist who most recently has created tapestries from discarded metal such as milk tins and bottle caps. Follow this link to see a slideshow of his work. What intrigues me most is that he allows curators to arrange his tapestries as they would like. Every time a piece is shown it looks different. No way is the right way.
This reminds me of a piece of fibre art that took my breath away when I saw it in the Innovators and Legends show at the Schweinfurth Art Center last July. From a distance 'Scattered' by Jiseon Lee Isbara appeared to be random papers and notes applied to the wall, perhaps as they had originally been ordered on someone's desk. As I got closer I could see that each printed form and sticky note was actually created from fabric and thread. When I spoke with the museum director she told me that the artist does not specify the layout of the individual units. It is up to the curator to create what the viewer sees.
I am even more interested in finding out how each viewer would change what they see to suit their own needs and expectations. A friend recently referred to this concept lately as "fridge magnets". That's about right. All of this musing is related to some other observations I have made recently and to some small and large projects I have in mind. More in another post.
The system moves quickly. I will have surgery on June 25. Today the office called to book a chest CT on the 16th. There's hardly time to get anxious between appointments and no reason to do so. The pathology results will tell the tale.
I'm not sure why I flash back to lyrics from musicals in times of stress but it happens often. The title of today's post comes from The Music Man: "ya got trouble with a capital T and that rhymes with P and that stands for pool." My version goes like this "ya got trouble with a capital T and that rhymes with C and that stands for cancer."
I was diagnosed with bladder cancer a couple of weeks ago. There has been some excitement in the interim which involved too much blood and an ER visit. But yesterday the diagnosis was confirmed and we have a plan for treatment. I will have surgery to remove a tumour and then will wait for the pathology report. In the event that the extent (into the muscle walls) or grade of the tumour warrants I will go in for another surgery and may receive chemotherapy. The good news about chemo for bladder cancer is that it is not administered systemically so there are no horrible side effects.
I have received nothing but love and support from friends over the last two weeks. But ultimately this is something you go through alone. That is not a bad thing, at least from my point of view. When I am alone I can focus and reflect. I have already had some remarkable experiences which I am translating into learning opportunities for others. To start I will write a series of short articles for the Indoor Cycling Association on ways in which my cycling coaching overlaps with this journey. I have also had an idea about some large works of art which relate to this adventure. There will more details about those in a future post.
As some readers know, I live in Canada and therefore have access to a public medical system. Over the last few weeks my experience in that system has been fantastic. I have received timely care and the clerks and nurses and doctors have all been both professional and warm. I have no complaints. And all of the service and tests I have received has been provided to me at a total cost of $2.00 (parking yesterday). My parking fees when I was at the ER were even refunded! I can't imagine trying to bear the anxiety and distress of my diagnosis while also considering the financial implications and wondering whether my care would be compromised by decisions made by an insurance company.
Last year our CSA started offering flower shares for a couple of months in mid-summer. This year the shares are starting earlier. Here's the teaser for this week as posted on the Taproot Farms Facebook page.
I missed references to The Fallen 9000 after it was created on Peace Day in September 2013. Friends drew it to my attention this year at the time of the 70th anniversary of the D-day landings.
The artists set out to recreate the impact of all of the deaths (Allied and German forces and civilians) that occurred on June 6, 1944 during the storming of the beaches of Normandy. Volunteers used stencils and rakes to inscribe the profiles of 9000 individuals on the beach at Arromanches, France. The images were temporary and were erased when the tide came in a few hours later.
I am moved by the concept and by the way in which the artists extended their statement through the use of volunteers, each of whom became an integral part of the piece. I can't imagine that anyone who participated or viewed the installation came away unaffected.
I am not particularly interested in gardening. My idea of landscaping is rhododendrons and day lilies - plants I can basically ignore and enjoy when they flower. Years ago I had a large vegetable garden and I did enjoy that. I started plants from seed and experimented with new-to-me things each year. I had to give up the garden when we moved to a house which has no natural location for an effective veggie patch.
A few years ago my mother bought herself a few EarthBoxes. She kept them on her deck and they were a minor supplement to her large vegetable garden. I was intrigued by what I saw and bought some for myself. The sunniest spot on our property is our east facing decks. The boxes could sit there where I could enjoy them from the dining and living rooms. The first year I grew several types of tomatoes, green, red and jalapeño peppers and six large-leaved basil plants. I wasn't ready for the results. Everything grew and grew and grew. The tomatoes tumbled everywhere and the basil grew to six feet. At the end of the season I roasted and froze many pounds of tomatoes and peppers for soup and chopped bags and bags of jalapeños and basil. For a while the kitchen was a toxic work zone because of the fumes.
Last year I bought more boxes and planted even more, including zucchini, cucumbers and herbs. I experimented with methods of staking the tomatoes but didn't find a system that really worked. Once again I had an enormous crop and ended up being unable to process all of the tomatoes.
This year I have cut back a little. Yesterday I planted tomatoes - 6 Roma, 2 Supersweet 100 and 1 Red Candy, peppers - 3 Kapela, basil - 6 unidentified plants, and one each of thyme and oregano. I left room for a few tomatillos in case I can find them. It was a warm but cloudy day and we have sun but not too much warmth today. They should get off to a good start. Now I will start planning a staking system for the tomatoes in an effort to stay ahead of their growth.
I'll document the garden in photos every two weeks or so. At the very least this will prove that I am not exaggerating about big my basil gets.
