In my second to last post, I mentioned I am working in a series this year as a means to help define and find my artist’s voice. I chose crosses because they visually appeal to me. There are so many styles depending on the source. Just Google “crosses” and you’ll discover image upon image of plain, ornate, Coptic, Celtic, colorful.
I also chose this theme because there are so many ways to shake up that linear shape. I’m curious to see how many versions I can create.
Blue Radiance appears below (I was going to name it “Study in Blue”, but the final piece called for a different name).
Just like last time, I’d appreciate any input or constructive criticism in the comments.
In late January, SAQA sent out a request for 4″ x 6″ postcard quilts depicting candles for light in support of and encouragement for Yvonne Porcella. She is the founder of SAQA (Studio Art Quilt Associates). She is also family.
I made this one on a Friday night and shipped it off for inclusion in the collection to be forwarded on to her. This wasn’t on my list of “planned” art. I’m such a planner type person that means something. However, the request — a physical prayer for Yvonne’s health — provided appropriate inspiration. The experience of designing on the fly in my head one afternoon, then making a quick stop at the fabric store for the black and white check (her signature fabric), then getting home and spending the next three hours putting this together was exhilarating. I didn’t know I had it in me to make art that way.
I have always considered Yvonne and her sister, Marilou, to be “aunts” more than the cousins they are. I believe this is because they are “double cousins” to my mother — their fathers were brothers and their mothers were sisters. My mom is an only child, so if I was going to have aunts on her side, those two seemed the most logical choice. A child’s brain often creates connections that click and never break, regardless of the vast number of years that pass.
My mom taught me to sew and to embrace color, to revel in color. I owe her for my interest in quilting and I am grateful for that.
From Yvonne, I learned that quilts could be art, that they didn’t need to be traditional, that rules are made to be broken, that the only rules necessary are those that allow the imagination to soar free. I am grateful for that as well.
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On Friday, February 12, 2016, Yvonne passed away after a 6-year battle with cancer. Her fight was valiant and seemingly fearless. Her zest and her spirit were never diminished. She was, and is, loved. As long as her family, her friends, remember her, as long as the art quilt survives, her light will not go out.
Light for Yvonne
She was laid to rest today, Friday, February 19, 2016. As her youngest son, Don, an artist in his own right, so beautifully stated, she has gone to her “studio in the sky”.
Each year, I set goals for myself related to my art. I don’t do resolutions. I do goals, with defined steps leading to achievement. This works best for me — I tend to reach the end to which I strive. In keeping with my updated goals for 2016, my focus for the year is to make twelve (12) art quilts. This will help to develop my work ethic, a body of work, and to find my voice. My art “voice” is sort of all over the place; the best way to find it is to keep making art.
For the first part of this year, I decided to work along a theme to see if that helps to clarify my voice. To that end, I’m making a series of crosses — one is done (see below), the second is in progress, and a third is in the sketchbook. I’d like to make six in the series.
Please help…What do you think or see or feel when you look at the photo of the art quilt above? Does this visually resonate? Is the piece soothing and satisfying or jarring, incomplete, unsettling? Your input will go a long way towards helping me understand
As I mentioned in my previous post, I don’t often get to visit my niece and nephew, Big G and Lil’ G. Lil’ G is always a little shy around me the first day of a visit. He’s all boy and loves his Mommy, Daddy, Sissy, and his Grandpas the best. Aunt Hil and the Grandmas get hugs but then he’s off to talk to the men. I don’t blame him. How else is the little dude supposed to learn all that guy stuff that guys know?
This little guy also has a huge heart. When my brother asked him what he was most excited about for Christmas: the love all his grandparents would shower on him over the holiday or the presents, this kid chose the love. He’s the smartest of all of us. Either that, or he knew his answer would get him more presents. Again, Lil’ G is a sharp kid.
After he warms up, he is happy to take my hand to cross the street. We visit and he tells me about Lego’s and his favorite shows and his favorite characters. We play with his toys and read books together. He’s into Ant Man and the Hulk. I’m not too familiar with Ant Man, although the movie is in the Netflix queue, but I do know the Hulk. I’ve always liked the Hulk. Bright green color, doesn’t take anything from anybody, independent, and can smash stuff with his bare hands when he’s mad. My kind of superhero.
I drew Lil’ G a picture of the Hulk and mailed it to him earlier last year. He hung it on the wall in his room and I saw it first thing when I went in to play pirates. For his Christmas gift, I made him something a little more durable than a piece of paper…a piece of art.
I don’t often get to visit my niece, Big G, or my nephew, Lil’ G. They live across the country, so we Skype for holidays and I fly out a couple of times a year to sleep on an air mattress in Big G’s room. When she was born, the first of my brother’s children, there was an instant connection between us. The last time I visited, I arrived late at night, after the kids were in bed, then woke up at dawn because my internal clock said it was time to be up. I brewed a cup of coffee and sat on the patio, enjoying the sunrise before the heat of the day. When Big G woke before the rest of the house, she came to the patio door. My arms opened wide, she climbed in my lap, and our arms wrapped tight around each other for a hug. We sat like that minute after minute, happy to see each other again. Then we started talking about books and poems and cats and art and Paris and all the things that she and I love together and everyone else wonders how the things I love the most came to be the things she loves the most, without me ever telling her until she told me she loved whatever it is. The magic of family, of God’s connection, I think.
No one knows where Big G’s love of Paris came from. One day, she started talking about it to her parents out of the blue. They told me the next time we talked and I admit to being surprised. I fell in love with Paris when I was young and I don’t know where it came from for me either. Maybe that’s just what some girls do when they are growing up and reach a particular age.
It’s easy to share books and read each others poems. It’s not as easy to share Paris, at least not at the age she is now (a trip is planned when she turns 18…things to look forward to!). Then I realized it was easy after all. I could give her the gift of Paris, the iconic symbol of Paris, with my art.
Hilary Clark Studios 