The seduction of stitching, binding,
embellishing and layering began for me in early childhood. Like music the rhythm of stitching became entwined with memory and
dreaming, part of my soul and a mediative practice. The stitch became notation,
a mark, visible or concealed, strong or weak, but like handwriting, revealing
the hand and temperament of the maker.
The names of the stitches, tacking, chain, cross…evoke not
just the form the thread takes on cloth, but describes as well the stabbing the
needle makes into the subconscious of the maker. I am fascinated with the simplest of marks. The
patterns and lines racing across the surface
evoke thoughts of
pleasure and pain. Beneath it all, the cloth, the layers everything is knotted
and held firmly in place, unable to move in any direction, echoing the knot and
the running stitch in the lives of women. These are paintings about that place
a place where I feel connected in time.