It has been many weeks since I've had more than a few hours to spend in the studio, designing, dyeing, thinking, or really doing anything more than what one can get accomplished when the brain is rushed and split. So this past weekend, though I had many other family obligations, I played hooky and spent my time in the basement. Not feeling inspired to work on the pattern, I was more energized for some dye time. After looking through samples of green fabrics I've done in the past, I opted to do a light to dark gradation with avocado.
I was not pleased with the lightness of the first three that I've decided to over-dye them with old mixes of lemon yellow and avocado.
My favorite piece had the most black and it led to a tangent of sorts...
To me, this reminds me a bit of stained glass, and it reminds my husband of x-rays. Either way, I like the results so much I decided to attempt to replicate it in other colors, though I don't expect to use them in the project I'm currently working on. If they come out, perhaps I'll share those later.
All photos copyright Katrina Kouba Boles
Tuesday, October 25, 2011
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Quilt National 2011
I have been going to Quilt National since I was a Fibers major in college. It's typically a wonderful collection of art quilts and since it only comes around every other year, it has always been worth the visit. In 2009, however, I was really disappointed. I started to realize that it was more of a collection of work from the same artists year after year. And I remember really only liking a few pieces. So this year I was a little hesitant about it, but knowing that the judges change every time, hoped that it would be another show like the year when Tim Harding was a judge, and around every corner were pieces that were just gorgeous.
A couple of weeks ago I went to see Quilt National at the Foundry in St. Charles, MO. And I realized that I enjoyed the show partially because one of my favorite pieces in the show was done by one of the judges: Nelda Warkentin. Her piece, Meadow Pine 2, drew my eye from far away and never failed to impress on close-up:
This is not the first of her pieces I've seen in person, but I love it! Go see more of her work on her website! Other favorites included: Katie Pasquini Masopust's "Con Brio - with Spirit", Carol Goossen's "The Conversation", Pauline Verbeek-Cowan's hand-jacquard "Silk Roots", Carol Watkins' "Reflections on Duality" (more because of the message than the actual piece), Mary E Stoudt's "Equilibrium", Pat Pauly's "Pink Leaf 2", and my absolute favorite... Kate Themel's "Dandelion":
If Quilt National comes to your town, I highly recommend going to see it!! If not, you can buy the book and check out the whole collection that way.
A couple of weeks ago I went to see Quilt National at the Foundry in St. Charles, MO. And I realized that I enjoyed the show partially because one of my favorite pieces in the show was done by one of the judges: Nelda Warkentin. Her piece, Meadow Pine 2, drew my eye from far away and never failed to impress on close-up:
This is not the first of her pieces I've seen in person, but I love it! Go see more of her work on her website! Other favorites included: Katie Pasquini Masopust's "Con Brio - with Spirit", Carol Goossen's "The Conversation", Pauline Verbeek-Cowan's hand-jacquard "Silk Roots", Carol Watkins' "Reflections on Duality" (more because of the message than the actual piece), Mary E Stoudt's "Equilibrium", Pat Pauly's "Pink Leaf 2", and my absolute favorite... Kate Themel's "Dandelion":
If Quilt National comes to your town, I highly recommend going to see it!! If not, you can buy the book and check out the whole collection that way.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Studio Redo
Tonight I finally got to spend some quality time in my studio working on my next piece of textile art, and as I was looking for wall space for this giant design, I realized that most of the projects on my wall are unfinished pieces that just aren't singing to me. Though on my wall are also several glorious photos I come across that are pinned on posterboard, and pieces of fabric on which I've tried a new technique but haven't yet figured out what to do with the fabric yet, I realized that having those unfinished, unloved pieces staring me down is probably not my best way to be productive.
What's more is that two of those pieces are about fear. A few years ago, I thought if I gave fear a visual representation and physically constructed it that I might come to terms with it, but I find that I'd rather work on things that make me happy and feel constructive. It's sort of in the same vein of positive psychology: focusing on what's good and makes you happy rather than on regurgitating and reliving the past.
So tomorrow my first order of business will be to take those down, put them away, pull out pieces that I love and hang those in the empty space that will not currently be working space for this project.
What's more is that two of those pieces are about fear. A few years ago, I thought if I gave fear a visual representation and physically constructed it that I might come to terms with it, but I find that I'd rather work on things that make me happy and feel constructive. It's sort of in the same vein of positive psychology: focusing on what's good and makes you happy rather than on regurgitating and reliving the past.
So tomorrow my first order of business will be to take those down, put them away, pull out pieces that I love and hang those in the empty space that will not currently be working space for this project.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
Old Things - inspiration for art
I love photographing old gears and metal things that were once useful. I find them absolutely fascinating and beautiful. This past weekend I had the chance to add to my collection of photos when I went to the Arrow Rock Heritage Festival with a couple of friends. We went into historic buildings, one of which housed a number of old printing presses and Linotype machines. These photos were taken with my Panasonic point-and-click camera. (I'm hoping to get a DSLR and a macro lens for shooting things like this in the future, but for now this is what I have.)
And since I believe I failed to post photos of the Dewey bridge in Utah from my trip last year, I will also include this photo I took of the rusted supports for the suspension bridge. With the wood planks gone, it was the strangest bridge I'd ever seen:
My thought is to somehow, someday use some of these things in my art...
All photos copyright Katrina Kouba Boles
And since I believe I failed to post photos of the Dewey bridge in Utah from my trip last year, I will also include this photo I took of the rusted supports for the suspension bridge. With the wood planks gone, it was the strangest bridge I'd ever seen:
My thought is to somehow, someday use some of these things in my art...
All photos copyright Katrina Kouba Boles
Monday, October 10, 2011
Glacial Recession: the start of a project
After the talk by Mindy and an extended discussion over lunch - I think she's got such brilliant ideas I couldn't help but be a sponge, soaking up all her beautiful thoughts and words - I knew that it's time to get back to my personal projects. Fortunately, there's a piece that I have been wanting to start for some time now. I first wrote about it on LiveJournal nearly two years ago. And though I've done a small "sample", I never started the big piece. Well, that ended this weekend. I thought I'd share my original thoughts...
Written Nov 12, 2009:
Written Nov 12, 2009:
That's the name I just came up with for my previously titled "Alaska piece". Yeah, I'm terrible with names, but for some reason, "Glacial Recession" just came to me. I then started picking apart why that would work as a title and here are my thoughts:
This piece is the beginning of a series of work about the natural environment and how we humans are impacting our world/planet. I decided to start with a landscape from Alaska because I began reading a book called Field Notes on a Catastrophe, where the journalist author began by talking about permafrost and glaciers. Also, I decided to start here because my 4 day backpacking excursion in Alaska left such a resounding impact that I've failed to use it as inspiration for anything yet because nothing can ever measure up to the breathtaking beauty and the life or death situations in which we found ourselves. I am incredibly blessed that I have had the opportunity to walk on a glacier, and drink the freshest, cleanest, naturally cold water the earth can provide, straight off the glacier as it flows into the teal-blue crevasses. I would presume not many people can say they've been there, done that.
My first view of a glacier was at Glacier National Park in Montana, so far, my favorite of the national parks. But truly for where we were able to go during our stay at Glacier did not bring us near to any glacier, rather we saw the remains of the glacial recession. And what spectacular monsters those glaciers must have been. It's almost sad that I am no longer shocked to learn that scientists are proclaiming an even shorter life span for these sheets of ice, and the belief that a park named for the glaciers will no longer be home to glaciers in a number of years - probably in my lifetime. So these two trips, with their amazing vistas that can't even be remotely captured by camera, have inspired the beginning of a series of work about the environment.
Another thing that interests me about this title is that it includes the word "recession", one that we have heard so often in the past year, that it has become part of daily speak. Everyone seems to be afraid of this word. My response is that it could be a good thing. Why? Technology has advanced far beyond our ability to use and implement our own advancements. I mean, my goodness, you buy a computer brand new and it's already out of date, what kind of sense does it make then to buy a computer? So, as a society we may be advancing our technological achievements, but we don't seem to be implementing them very well. Sounds to me like a perfect time for society to slow down and develop new jobs that do implement the technology that will help save us from destroying our planet. For example, we have the ability to stop pollution and slow global warming by using technology, but the cost seems too high. I ask, but what is the cost of destroying the world in which we live? So, I hope that our decision-makers, law-makers, and the wealthiest nation in the world can implement new energy-saving and environment-saving technologies so that we can also slow the recession of the one thing we cannot re-create: our natural, beautiful world.
Finally, it's intended to be a thought-provoking, inspiring work that helps the viewer to stop and look inward into oneself and question. We should question what we do that makes an impact. We should question why we choose not to step out and observe the beautiful world we were blessed with. And I think we should question our own existence. How are we part of the cycle of life and not just the damaging spoke in the wheel that ruins everything it comes into contact with?
This piece is the beginning of a series of work about the natural environment and how we humans are impacting our world/planet. I decided to start with a landscape from Alaska because I began reading a book called Field Notes on a Catastrophe, where the journalist author began by talking about permafrost and glaciers. Also, I decided to start here because my 4 day backpacking excursion in Alaska left such a resounding impact that I've failed to use it as inspiration for anything yet because nothing can ever measure up to the breathtaking beauty and the life or death situations in which we found ourselves. I am incredibly blessed that I have had the opportunity to walk on a glacier, and drink the freshest, cleanest, naturally cold water the earth can provide, straight off the glacier as it flows into the teal-blue crevasses. I would presume not many people can say they've been there, done that.
My first view of a glacier was at Glacier National Park in Montana, so far, my favorite of the national parks. But truly for where we were able to go during our stay at Glacier did not bring us near to any glacier, rather we saw the remains of the glacial recession. And what spectacular monsters those glaciers must have been. It's almost sad that I am no longer shocked to learn that scientists are proclaiming an even shorter life span for these sheets of ice, and the belief that a park named for the glaciers will no longer be home to glaciers in a number of years - probably in my lifetime. So these two trips, with their amazing vistas that can't even be remotely captured by camera, have inspired the beginning of a series of work about the environment.
Another thing that interests me about this title is that it includes the word "recession", one that we have heard so often in the past year, that it has become part of daily speak. Everyone seems to be afraid of this word. My response is that it could be a good thing. Why? Technology has advanced far beyond our ability to use and implement our own advancements. I mean, my goodness, you buy a computer brand new and it's already out of date, what kind of sense does it make then to buy a computer? So, as a society we may be advancing our technological achievements, but we don't seem to be implementing them very well. Sounds to me like a perfect time for society to slow down and develop new jobs that do implement the technology that will help save us from destroying our planet. For example, we have the ability to stop pollution and slow global warming by using technology, but the cost seems too high. I ask, but what is the cost of destroying the world in which we live? So, I hope that our decision-makers, law-makers, and the wealthiest nation in the world can implement new energy-saving and environment-saving technologies so that we can also slow the recession of the one thing we cannot re-create: our natural, beautiful world.
Finally, it's intended to be a thought-provoking, inspiring work that helps the viewer to stop and look inward into oneself and question. We should question what we do that makes an impact. We should question why we choose not to step out and observe the beautiful world we were blessed with. And I think we should question our own existence. How are we part of the cycle of life and not just the damaging spoke in the wheel that ruins everything it comes into contact with?
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Underwater Butterflies by photographer Alexander James
Today I came across a Alexander James' portfolio on behance and was enamored by his beautiful underwater butterfly series, called Swarm, and had to begin following him and his blog. Visit both to see more images. Here are some of my favorites:
Copyright for all photos belongs to the artist, Alexander James. Visit his websites for more!
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