My time stamp exercise is continuing. I was visiting my sister in NYC in October and I wanted to mark the moment with a time stamp fabric collage or two. Having the challenge in the back of my mind during my visit made my eye more keen to the pattern, color and line of the place. With my handy phone/camera in my pocket I could snap away images to jump from once I was back in my studio. Two events stood out as inspiration for my fabric collage experiment with time and place. The first is a walk along the beautifully designed High Line. If you haven’t experienced this it is worth making happen –The High Line is a public park built on a historic freight rail line elevated above the streets on Manhattan’s West Side and every visual detail in attended to. Pattern, line and texture are all there and we were lucky to visit just after the completion of the Vessel. It is an extraordinary centerpiece of Hudson Yards where the High Line ends (or begins depending on your perspective). It is an interactive artwork in the shape of a hallow beehive with a spiral staircase that leads you 16 stories above the Hudson River – there seems to be a wide variety of opinions about the Vessel but I loved it. This piece is a tribute to it and our day.
This next one I’m trying to express the color, hustle and energy of Times Square. I struggled more with this one because it’s not my typical color palette and it feel a bit busy and overdone … but come to think of it that’s how Times Square feels too so maybe I marked the moment even if I don’t like the art. I suppose that’s just what a practice is about; pushing somewhere you don’t always go and finding a solution of some sort.
I’ve posted a couple of these little exercises in the last six months and I’m here to share two more. My goal in creating these is to mark a moment; they are little meditations or, maybe more accurately, an ode to a fleeting experience. When I’m on a walk or hike I’ll stop and take a photo of something interesting, maybe take a few note in a note book about the colors, scents and sounds. I also mark a google map with a pin to find the GPS location and with the date I try to incorporate this into the small, 11×14” fabric piece. I have an aspiration to create on each week but that hasn’t been happening… perhaps I’ll get there and you’ll be the first to see it if I do. But now with no further ado…
#3: 9/11/19 8:24am GPS 38.5388525, -122.8744546 stand at 13ft above sea level. My notes remind me it was a sunny, bright dry morning. the trail is lined with remarkably tall and fanciful thistles dry and beautiful. The California Towhee we out in abundance calling out a tic of a warning to let there family know I was walking through.
#4: 10/12/19 11:36 a hike in the Santa Cruz Mountains near Ridge Road (somehow my map pin drop failed me and I didn’t get my GPS). Hot dry day, first walking through cool redwoods then rising out on a ridge where a fire had been some years ago. This bare tree towered over the terrain, dead but teaming with life as bird fly in and out and as the wind caressed it’s smooth branches I off to NYC this week so I hope to get some Time Stamp inspiration to share with you soon.
This life is a wheel, I think, ever turning, sometimes it seems to slow but never stops. Recently there have been friends who have died in their elder stages of life, the wheel turns. Today photos of a new baby arrived in my inbox, smiling tired parents and sleeping baby, I knew this woman when she was just a girl and now she’s a mom…the wheel turns again. We received a wedding announcement for a young couple who found each other at the camp where we work what wonder this turning wheel brings. Is it the wheel of a traveling carriage on a long journey? Or perhaps the spinning wheel, turning fibers into threads to weave into the tapestry of life. I think that might be it, threads sturdy and strong, threads thin and tenuous. All to be dyed and woven into to the cloth of their purpose. A garment, a blanket, a shelter. Worn to tatters as is the way of the turning wheel never stopping, only slowing now and again for us to notice if we happen to be paying attention.
This is a fabric collage piece I just completed inspired by this moment of noticing the wheel. Thank you to Joan and Ralph who have recently died, thank you for showing me a bit of the tapestry of your life sharing your shelter, wisdom and comfort. Thank you baby Solomon and his parents Calen and Myron for reminding me that the wheel that turns to death also turns to life, and thank you Colby and Noelle for inviting us to witness the turning of the wheel once more, the twining of your lives from two threads to one that will be long, beautiful and sturdy.
A couple of weeks ago I showed you the first in my “Time Stamp” series. These are small meditations on a moment. I’m trying to capture the feeling of a particular place and time not a literal image. So here is my second in this endeavor. A morning hike through Gina’s Orchard here at The Bishop’s Ranch revealed a clutch of wild iris, a little patch of purple in a sea of green. Here is my fabric collage marking of that moment.
I went for an early morning walk today. I was on a mission to pick persimmons to make steamed persimmon pudding. There are several persimmon trees here at The Bishop’s Ranch and as always there was an abundance of persimmons. Yesterday I noticed that most were gone or fallen to the ground, or pecked to the stem by grateful ravenous birds; birds who can’t believe their luck to find such a treat just days from a solstice dark night. This frosty morning I realized that if I don’t get some now I wouldn’t be able to make my Aunt Lorraine steamed pudding.
My Aunt Lorraine turned 90 this October and I brought her some stone hard persimmons as a gift. As a thank you she sent me her recipe for steamed persimmon pudding… and in her Christmas card I got this week she asked me if I’d made it yet. So you can see I felt duty bound to honor this women with the making of a steamed pudding!
As I often do I started making the recipe before reading through the entire directions. My batter was made before I realized I’d need a “6 cup greased metal mold” – opps – I could picture what I think I need, my grandma had all these copper decorative pans with fluted sides – I think that’s what I need – all I have is a Bundt pan – it will have to do. As I read on I realized I need to fit this Bundt pan into a large kettle – it just fits! Uh oh how do I get it out? I need to put water in the bottom of the pan… with a bit of kitchen twine and some knotting skills I managed to rig a string lift to check the water. Now I’m ready to go! What? “Steam for 2 ½ hours”. With time on my hands I did this little painting of some persimmons waiting on my windowsill. Still more time and I’m writing this blog and connecting with you… still 59 minutes to go, I guess I should clean the kitchen now. But not before I give thanks for persimmons, and family recipes, and the gift of time for this disorganized cook to paint and ponder and reach out to you.
Be well this holiday season and take time, however it presents itself, to give thanks for all the beauty and love swirling around the long dark nights and short crisp days of Solstice.
Spring brings blossoms, summer brings fruit, and fall brings libations!
Last weekend some friends invited us to help them pick and press apples. We picked pounds and pounds of apples, brought by the wheelbarrow full to the press. Then we washed and dropped the apples into a mechanical chopper. The chopped apples were then put into an old-fashioned crank juice press. We took turns washing, chopping and cranking – filling jugs of apple juice to freeze for drinking later. Then we juiced more, about 20 gallons more in fact. This juice is now bubbling and brewing and becoming hard cider. This process is way beyond my skills, I’m leaving it up to a master mixer, but since I volunteered to pick and press… this fall I’ll get to taste. Not bad pay!
I have a years worth of workshops lined up on the calendar go to my website to see what’s happening and how to sign up! http://lisathorpe.com/classes.html