This year's Puget Sound Book Artist Exhibition's theme was Collaboration. The first collaborative book, Meeting the Alchemist, A Feminist Fable, I have previously shared on the blog. I entered two other collaborative books to the exhibit and both were accepted. Water Has Memory was created by seven members of Women on the Water (WOW) and is the second sewn book the group has created.
Water has Memory
Contributors: Dorothy Baars, Leslie Brantner, Jennifer Davis, Sally Slater, Janet Stanley, Muriel Taylor, Jan Ward
Structure/Medium/Materials: Coptic binding, cotton fabric, photo fabric, embroidery floss, English paper piecing technique with embroidery.
It is a 16 page book, 5" x 6.5" x 3"
Artist Statement: In 2020, circumstances beyond our control ended the Women on the Water’s time on Vérité, a 38-ft sailing and rowing gig. This sewn book collaboration was to have fun, fellowship and to share Vérité's “Community Spirit” with the extended community. We stitched our silent story pages using the techniques of English paper piecing and photo fabric embroidery. It was a perfect opportunity to utilize the scraps from our stashes. Instead of 18-ft oars we used tiny needles and thread to create this final story. In the making of Water has Memory, our spirits had a place to be during these changing times.
flying HOMEward
This book was the offshoot of my participation in Shu-Ju Wang's workshop - A Study of Home. As it turned out it was much more personal in nature than I ever imagined. For you see my collaborative partner was my eight-year old self. Together she and I went 'way' back in time and place. She had things she wanted to tell me and show me. I am still trying to absorb all the things she revealed to me (about me). It was fun but yet trust had to be developed (a necessity when participating in a collaboration). If only I had made a recording, or a video of how the two of us interacted after she became "real" to me. Alas, sadly she has 'left the room' as they say. She has gone back to her time and place. Honestly, it was the weirdest and best experience I have had in a long time.
contributors: Jan Ward and 8-year-old Jan
Structure/Medium/Materials: modified accordion, paper - Southworth TECHWEAVE, computer printed, text -Tempus Sans ITC, watercolor, pen & ink, Adobe Photoshop, Folder - BFK Reeves
This book has 12 pages and is 8.5" x 5.5" x 1" and is an accordion book that stretches 12".
Artist Statement:
flying HOMEward, tells the story about my eight-year-old self and me traveling back in time to our beloved farm in Pennsylvania, on the back of a magic crow called Skye. Our collaboration flung open the doors to memory and place. It was a delightful and unique experience for both of us. She and I think Rod Serling’s words capture the essence of our adventure best. “You unlock this door with the key of imagination. Beyond it is another dimension: a dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind. You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas.” Rod Serling took his stories into the twilight zone. Our story took us to a happy place.
I will try to think twice before I bring home anything.Well, yes, I do realize there isn't any more room under the tent roof.Yes, I do realize I am crawling closer to the 'end' rather than being eight again.But, if I can't drink wine, or eat sugary things, or chomp on potato chips or...I mean, how bad is it in the big scheme of life if I pick up a rock...a tiny little one, please. Oh Fine!
I will simply go build something out of nothing.
I'm thinking of making an outdoor 'loo' next...so that I don't have to go into the house.I mean, think of how clean the house would stay if I weren't tracking dirt chippings, plant material, grass clippings, mud (if it ever rains again) rust dust - not to mention my dirty hands on the knobs. Just think of that! More like a real camp!
Plus - I already have MIL's portable throne and an old homer bucket.
I should get stars for repurposing, right?I just need walls and a cover (should it ever rain again... someday).And I've got a bunch of old doors. Smile.
