As I've mentioned there has been a new addition to the studio practice recently, and the obsession is strong. But in reality this is an element of my work I have been working towards for years. And holy moly does it feel good to finally see it IRL.

I asked for a sewing machine for Christmas about 5 years ago knowing that it would be a part of my studio practice, but until a couple of months ago it has sat idle collecting dust. I clearly knew that sewing was a part of the future of my practice, but at the time I couldn't grab on to the ideas floating around my mind long enough to coalesce a full and tangible work.

I have spoken about sewing, quilting, textiles etc. in my artist statements as sources of inspiration, and this has largely come through in my work in the formal aspects of layering, collaging, and color blocking. My painting language pulls from the concept of quilting and pattern making–of taking disparate elements and pulling them together into the same composition. But in all of this was and is a desire to pull in the tangible and actionable aspect of this concept with actual sewn elements.

I could feel the shifts starting, the sort of internal rumbling that feels like anxious excitement that annoyingly keeps you up at night because your brain just won’t chill out. There was a transition happening, and I needed to make sure that I didn't hold back with what my brain was trying to tell me. So I pulled down the dusty sewing machine, did the scary but oddly liberating thing of cutting up a painting, and began to sew it back together–to see what I could see, ya know?

Y’all! So good. Enter a new obsession. The first few of course were not good at all but I could see that this was the smoke I had been trying to catch and nail down for years. That is the fascinating thing about inspiration, process, and creativity; it's an alchemy that needs the right conditions and past experiences to become something special. My work was not in a place that sewn elements would make sense within when I asked for the sewing machine, but five years later, now it is. My personality and frenetic energy during studio shifts requires materials within arms reach–having to leave to go pick up new items or wait for delivery will not abide my chaotic inspiration energy. So having the flicker of knowing years ago, set me up to be able to see it through today. Which is wild because planning is not my strong suit (re. chaotic inspiration energy).

Each hand painted piece sewn together gives a tangible and nostalgic quality to my abstract paintings. The pulls across the patch and plane shifts have such a delicate power. I love this interaction of the abstract with something as practical, tangible, and ubiquitous as a quilt. We know the comfort and fold of a blanket, and the tactility of making it; but also of the memories and emotions stitched through it as well. That paired with the sublime and intangible elements of abstraction is such a humble meeting ground. In this we can see that abstraction isn't always and exclusively academic, but exists on so many levels of art making and lived experience. This is the pocket I love and strive to work within. Because the tangible and representational are always influencing and informing the abstract, creating our memories and experiences.

There is so much here, the waters are wide and deep. I am continually learning and playing and discovering as I continue to incorporate sewing into my studio practice. It surprisingly, to me anyways, fits well into the cadence of my workflow and I truly am so excited (and definitely a little nervous) to see what creative places it will lead.

Sew New