• Emily Carr evokes the eery feeling that unexpected utter darkness evokes. The Canadian artist thought a meeting she often went to would be in its usual location in a Victoria BC theater. She liked to sit in the balcony for these meetings. That meeting didn’t happen. Here’s what she noted about the experience.

    I must be very late, I thought, and crept up to my usual seat in the balcony. I got no further than the gallery entrance. Ill-ventilated black met me, a dense smothering black as if all the actors and the audience had left something there, something intangible in that black hole of a place. That deathly silence was full of crying. It made you want to get out quickly, as if you were looking at something that you should not see.

    It’s such a rich entry in a journal full of amazing observations, feelings, experiences. That day — December 2, 1934– is particularly rich. Here’s the paragraph that follows the one above.

    I came out quickly into the dull street, Government Street in Chinatown, with all the dirty curtained windows and the shut shops. Two little Chinese girls were licking suckers, red ones that rouged their tongues, and were comparing tongues on the mirror on an outside door.

    One of Canada’s beloved Pacific Northwest artists as well as a talented author, she was such a close observer. I love having this collection of her private thoughts.

    Helpful link:

    https://www.aci-iac.ca/art-books/emily-carr/biography/

  • What a challenging few days it’s been, watching the news, hearing the yelling match across the divide of people who see different things in the videos of the shooting of an American citizen by an Immigration and Customs Enforcement agent.

    In the middle of all that, I stumbled on a New York Times interview with author George Saunders. I feel bad as a writer that I’d never heard of Saunders. He’s an award-winning author with essays, short stories, nonfiction and fiction books published over the last 30 years. He teaches writing at Syracuse University.

    Here I am now, playing catch-up and grateful for it. Saunders is known for, has written about, the value of kindness. Not exactly what I would have expected from what I perceived to be an uptown posh East-Coast guy. (His background suggests some depth in the blue-collar world.)

    My mistake. Here are a couple of lines from a convocation speech he gave in 2013 that eventually became a New York Times article: Here’s something I know to be true, although it’s a little corny, and I don’t quite know what to do with it: What I regret most in my life are failures of kindness.It’s a little facile, maybe, and certainly hard to implement, but I’d say, as a goal in life, you could do worse than: Try to be kinder.

    My go-to goal in this realm: Don’t be a jerk today. But a positive version may be the higher order. On the other hand: Start where you are.

    Second reason I’m excited about Saunders is this book he wrote about writing: A Swim in a Pond in the Rain.

    https://www.amazon.com/Swim-Pond-Rain-Russians-Writing/dp/1984856022

    I’m so excited to read this book and learn what it has to teach about story.


  • Embroidery detail from a Chinese robe

    First, some history: My obsession with embroidery goes back to 2018 or so, when I first saw the Chinese court textiles exhibit at the Jordan Schnitzer Museum of Art. The museum, in Eugene OR, has an extensive display of Chinese art that’s worth a visit or six.

    The garments, intricately “painted” with fine silk threads, captivated me. Many robes dated back more than 100 years yet were vibrant with color. The individual threads seemed much finer than the embroidery thread I was familiar with.

    A year or two later, I discovered that “thread painting” is a popular art form (craft form? maybe a bit of both) and I began to learn. I used the easily available DMC cotton embroidery floss, bought patterns from really skilled embroiderers — Trish Burr, among others — and have been enjoying going deeper into a new skill. Eventually, I started creating my own projects. But always with cotton floss.

    Then I stumbled onto artist Helen Steven’s work. A British embroiderer, she works with Piper silks. It was clear to me she was using thread similar to the Chinese textiles silks that had so entranced me at the museum.

    I purchased one of her instruction booklets, ordered some Piper silks and tried my first project.

    My first effort with Piper silk thread
    Piper silk spools

    This was a whole new experience in managing materials. Piper silks are almost hairlike filaments, so thin they will fall through a typical needle. But they’re lustrous and beautiful and once I accepted the dexterity challenges of working with something so fine, I kind of fell in love.

    My first project on the left is a good beginner’s effort. Will I do more? Ah, well. A package just arrived in the mail from the UK Piper silk company. A stunning range of colors for me to play with. Each thread spool is about a half inch in diameter and 2 inches long and holds 87 yards of silk filament.

    Not sure what’s next but I’m pretty sure it’ll be my own design.

    If you want to be over-awed by Helen Steven’s work, either her website or her Facebook page might get you there.