Friday, November 19, 2010

Wannabe Straight

I don't sew straight, I don't cut straight, hell I don't even stand straight. What was I thinking when I started to piece these overalls? Something about men, work, scent, redundancy, loss and lack. No wonder I came over all wobbly.  This piece has reminded me of my dangerous ambivalence when it comes to form.  My head, heart and soul are cluttered places and my projects are sorting processes.  I start with a goal that is about 66.666% unachievable - some massive material object to be generated while I think things through. Along the way, the scope shrinks, the form shifts and if I'm lucky I'm left with something that resonates with at least one other person on the planet. I'm always running out on time and patience. A novel becomes a sculpture, a poem becomes a rug, a quilt becomes a paragraph. This is not the path to artistic excellence, it's the art of failing well.

1 comment:

  1. Failing, if done well is more fullfilling succeeding badly.