I've been working on an artist statement and proposal all day today. That means that I've cleaned the house, visited the neighbor, made phone calls, and gotten some knitting done. Well... I always need a little procrastination when writing. In cooking they call that stewing. Anyway I thought I'd share my first paragraph with this image because knitting also creates connections to a shared human history.
The stories I loved as a child were stories of extreme circumstances and heroic fortitude. Girls, like myself, were thrust into painful, solitary adventures where they persevered by relying upon their own abilities. The only common denominator was their determination. These girls did not give up. They knit shirts from stinging nettles, shoveled sidewalks in paper dresses, and withstood a myriad of heartless abuses. The memory of these stories mingled with all that I have experienced as I made these paintings. I feel rootless but these stories connect me to a history not dependent upon location or time. They connect me to myself and to my own fascination, even as a child, with the extreme hardships in life. They remind me that my impulse to understand these experiences existed before I was fully socialized. Before I was capable of moderating myself. Most importantly, they allow for a mental space where moderation is unnecessary, even unwanted.
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