Or perhaps I should say finishing three big projects,
if I count the two solo exhibitions this spring/ summer
(Luminous Cloth at the Latimer Center in Tillamook OR closes on 3 Sept)
and then sending the first copies of Backstrap Dialogs out into the world last week!
knit and read in the late summer air.
At least is what my inner Luminist suggests.
And as usual, I'll try to please them both.
Those of you who were kind enough to order Backstrap Dialogs may already have met the Luminist and Storymaker, but for those who haven't, here's a page from the comic in which they discuss my relationship with the backstrap loom-- and how it should be used.
and once they existed as characters, it took even longer to settle on their names.
It was all too easy, I found, to make one of them the "good gal" and one the "bad,"
when in truth, both are vital to the development of my work.
They are different, but equal, and I would hate to be without either one.
But ultimately, I beleive it keeps things interesting and fresh.
Minimalism, however, has so many connotations these days (sartorial, artistic, tidy, ecological and otherwise), that ultimately it felt limiting. And Storyteller -- well often as not her job would be to tell stories that already exist, and though nothing really is new under the sun, this bit of my psyche is pretty into building (and embellishing), in the moment with the materials at hand.
For a time I thought the solution would be to call them after archetypes (the artist, the dilettante, the heroine, the inner child etc etc), but though I identify with many traditional archetypes, none were a good fit.
Storymaker, by the way, came from the concept of the Theatremaker via my dear actor running partner one early morning. Alas, I don't actually know how to define theatremaker, so you'll have to look it up yourself if you want to know more, and I never bothered to google Storymaker as I didn't want anything I found on the internet to wreck it for me, but it felt so right I just went for it.
Luminist came from Luminism, an American school of painting that grew out of the Hudson River School --definitely not minimalist but a concept deeply influential to all my work, narrative, tapestry, translucent or otherwise.
What is in a name? SO much.
and it is too late to re-write or re-draw or re-organize any of it
I find myself extra grateful for the process --
not only the process of developing this totally unexpected body of work,
but also the process of getting to know and name the Luminist and Storymaker,
who I dearly hope will continue to squabble and compromise and interfere with one another's plans for a good long time.
And are they friends?
Are they a help?
Do they have names?
This is terribly nosy, but now I'm curious.