On Making "Untitled (with brushstrokes)"

A year ago yesterday, was the day we got word in the USA to stay home because of the pandemic. It was an unsettling time for everyone. For me personally, it was conflicting. I already work from home, spending the days by myself and with my art (and sometimes not). I already rarely go out, whether shopping or eating or visiting with friends. So, the pandemic and the lockdowns, whether ordered or self-imposed, didn't affect my daily life. Or so it seemed.

What did get affected were my choices. The pandemic itself, but more importantly, self-focused people in society who made selfish choices putting other people's health at risk, made me choose to stay home and be safe, even on those rare days I would have gone out to socialize. In addition, the few people I talked to on the phone were also stressed and scared. This, of course, added to my stress.

During all this time I was working on several aspects of ArtSewDifferent: crafted projects, a new logo, building a business, “Flaminia and The Machine”, and more. Additionally, I was working on “Untitled (with brushstrokes)” although I hadn't given it its un-name yet! Some days I was able to get a lot of work done on it. Other times I would go weeks without touching it. Those times I felt terribly guilty, ashamed, and even miserable.

I rightly blame the circumstances of the pandemic. The stresses from this experience increased my feelings of anxiety (although I tried hard to bury them), loneliness and isolation (despite the fact John and I are doing better as a couple than we ever have before), and fruitless despair (I tried to overcome the “what's the point of it all” attitude, but it was pretty powerful).

But there were other reasons I delayed working on the art quilt as well. Sometimes isolation and the quiet get to be too much. I love being by myself. I'm very introverted and prefer my own company to that of others. But I'm still a social being. I don't completely shun humanity. I do like my friends, few as they are, and the quiet studio even with music or television shows in the background can become emotionally oppressive. When that happens, even touching a quilt in progress can be physically painful for me. I feel sick to my stomach and have to turn away.

Other times, I'd look at this quilt and wasn't sure where I was going, or more accurately where it wanted to go. Or I didn't know how to do a technical aspect of it at the moment or one that would be upcoming. So I'd let it sit until I figured it out in my mind and unblocked the challenges.

It took more than a year of getting this quilt finished. More than two if I count the idea development time, but hands on fabric it took over a year and 150 hours of work.

When I had it all finished except for the binding, I again had to let it sit. I wasn’t sure why. I know I needed to “rest” it, to let the heavily quilted fabric lay flat and still. And I'm aware that the binding is my least favorite part of quilt making (because it's *almost* done - ugh why can't it just *be* done at this point!? I'm very impatient!) So, some of the delay may have been general procrastination. Yet I can't attribute all of the delay to that pesky little gnome.

Then it dawned on me that I was looking for the explanation of the meaning of this piece. It was so important to me. The greatest work I had yet done. Why? What did it symbolize to me? What was it saying to the world? Who was it saying it too? And as I thought about these questions I went over what I had thought about as I made it. Who were my inspirations and why? What feelings did I have as I made it or when I looked at it?

Christo was first to come to mind. This is ironic because the piece was first inspired by Mark Rothko. But when I looked at it, I saw Christo and their “scream of freedom.” Freedom yes. I'd been locked in my house for months and months. Free to make art and survive life, true, but not free to live and explore and participate in life. Freedom. Yes, I had freedom to breathe, but I was trapped in the despair of childhood traumas, tragedies, and resultant adult behaviors that kept me from living my fullest life. Freedom. I yearned for the freedom of self-expression, the freedom to be the neurodivergent person I am with my ADHD and other behavioral issues I “suffer” from - and “suffer” only because some people in the world don't like those of us who aren't like them and go after us or punish us or humiliate us or attack us... Freedom. To be who I am. Freedom. To accept myself - with all my quirks, all my exuberance, all my silliness - as I am.

And then Mark Rothko spoke up. “Fields of color, you know, are about colors being able to exist without being tied to a particular shape. Emotions can exist without having to give explicit imagery related to them.”

And then Maggie Hambling called out to me. She said to me “You have the freedom to exist as you are, who you are, even if it pisses other people off.”

And I saw all of that in me and I saw all of me in the quilt. And that's how it got its un-name. It's an untitled piece because it simply exists. No preconceptions, no expectations, no boundaries except my limitations to create.

And it is my soul-portrait.