Moving out of my art residence

I’m having a bit of a come-to-jesus moment realizing I probably won’t have much time or ability to commute to a studio this year, if I am having a baby in late April. I think for at least the next year (or so) moving my studio back home will be helpful in maintaining some semblance of a studio practice. I’ll be sad to go, though. This is my second time moving to this particular gallery space as a resident and I was in a very different place when I landed here in late 2023, after an inspiring week abroad that had me itching for more creative connection and a third space out of the home. Right now, though, it’s hard to justify with my home practice closed and the space available. Perhaps this will be good for me and my productivity in the long run— less excuses to not paint, less running back and forth trying to find the right tool before realizing it’s probably at the studio across town.

At home I’ll have the chance to get time in between naps and tasks. I’m luckier than most when it comes to space, and I’ve worked with less before. It’ll take a little while to set it up the way I like, but I hope I’ll love it in the long run.

Thank you notes

It was a cold night in the letterpress studio, printing these thank you cards for attendees to our baby party. Guests dyed tiny clothes under the natural-dye guidance of local artist Sarah Eichorn, and I’m so pleased with the results. These cards were designed by Tom and have a prairie-school inspired feel to them.

Screen Printmaking

Circa 2016, before Trump was elected, I had just gotten into self taught silkscreening for the first time and was churning out t-shirts, posters and other kinds of protest-art-ephemera (between the resistance against building pipelines, volunteering at a free clinic, Trump, and promoting socialism via pro-Bernie rallies, I had a lot of material to work with). Unfortunately when I moved to Mexico City, we had to give all our equipment away.

I’ve recently been interested in giving it another try (though with less good equipment setup for sure- no more handmade four color press and exposure table for me, sadly). My first piece is laying in wait for the next opportunity to wave a sign or march in a tshirt. I’m working on other nature related works at the moment too, but having an anti trump sign on hand felt cathartic.

Landscapes

I’ve been in the mood to make landscapes for pleasure. I started this one the other day, a moment from my travels through Iceland when the sky met the fjord in a cascade of pink I am currently obsessed with, of which I associate with early mornings this time of year when I creep to the woodstove in the dark and the fresh snow outside is illuminated by the most wonderful pinks and blues.

Later, Tom recreated a meal we had at a roadside stop on our drive to Hrísey, a meal I totally didn’t expect to enjoy but devoured and thought about for days afterward. A creamy, hearty whitefish stew with potatoes & mirepoix alongside buttered brown bread, kneaded with molasses. The recipe written on paper by an Icelandic Lutheran church goer in Manitoba, photographed for a blog long ago. A transporting meal that makes you appreciative of frosted windows and early sunsets.

based on pictures from Iceland, 2021.

Spirit Trap

I’ve decided to try my hand at quilting and embroidering some of the fresh leaf indigo cotton swatches I’ve made. The color reminds me of the ocean, so aqua, which got me thinking about the classic Scandinavian embroidery motif known as Rán’s net. She is an ocean spirit that catches souls, and you often see her nets in embroidery and folk painting at the center of herbs and flowers. In combination with the flowers, which represent blessing, these motifs become a kind of protection symbol– similar to the Native American art of dream catchers.

At the center of my quilt will be a net, and I’ll play around with quilting different tones of indigo over the salted indigo as a base. I’m excited that I finally have a use for this antique embroidery hoop I’ve been carrying around for 10 years I picked at a tag sale.

Indigo harvest

This week was as good a time as ever to harvest the indigo, which I grew for the first time in my garden this year thanks to a 1:1 broom student of mine who gifted me the seedlings in exchange for a broom lesson in the spring. I grew them next to my herb garden, and they grew easily with very little coaxing from me, just two little seedlings gave me more than enough to work with for a first time experiment.

You want to harvest the indigo before it has gone to flower, and also as early in the morning as possible and as swiftly as possible to retain all the moisture in the plant that you can. I chose a morning after a rain; a set up my bowl right in the garden so I could work quickly.

Stripping the leaves into the bowl, I first experimented with a Japanese salt method wherein you massage the leaves with salt to coax out the dye and then submerge your fabric with the leaves and salt, scrubbing and massaging for at least 30 minutes. This was extremely satisfying, and yeilded a beautiful deep aqua right away. I wish I had found some silk instead of cotton, because I did read that animal fibers take better to this method; I will be better prepared next year.

I also tried an ice water method I read online attributed to John Marshall; placing the fresh leaves in an ice water bath, blend the leaves with the ice in a good blender until a thick potion is made and then submerge your fabrics in that for several hours, occasionally turning. This also worked but I found it to be less effective; it created more of a baby blue color, and it was very hard to get the plant flakes out of the fabric after. I ended up dipping multiple times but it wasn’t as nice as the salt way.

I am in love with indigo. I knew that I would be; I am so grateful for the plants and their wisdom. I made an offering to the bare bit of earth where they once lived, and I look forward to seeing them again next summer. This winter I will use these fabrics for quilt blocks and as the ground for an embroidery I have in mind.

Carry

I’ve been wanting to try my hand at making a lighted altar piece for a while. This was a difficult shape to cast so I’m needing to make repairs by hand, which I don’t mind, I love sculpting by fire.

Summer is Cyan


Summer is the season of cyanotypes because I personally feel I must use the summer sun instead of a studio enlarger. If I want a good exposure, I have to make hay while the sun shines- this means getting outside whenever it is sunny and making as many as possible while I can. It is awesome to me how I can feel the passage of time and season through this process, how much closer I feel to the land, the way that the sun peaks at midsummer and makes the crispest exposures at only 3 or 4 minutes- and then a month later, and a month later still, I am exposing closer to 8 or 10 minutes at the very same time of day. I feel the summer fleeting and I have been traveling a lot, not able to bring these delicate setups with me.

I am happy with some of these exposures and experimenting more with bleaching and toning. Instant coffee makes a wonderful sepia, while green tea makes a more victorian dark blue/black. I want to try working with chestnut, oak leaf, black walnut next but I need to catch up on making an ample stack first to play with. Some of them I have been working back into with chalk.

exposing

bleaching

Endings

This week in Duluth I finished my travel sketchbook, which I had been working on since first vaccinated in march of 2021. I also completed this silverpoint of a braid of sweetgrass that I had been working on for two months. I frequently feel I am an impatient person but it is nice to remember I can work low and slow when I want to.

Wyrd Walk


Made this freaky little guy after thinking about them all year, I foraged this stick while camping out for the total eclipse in April and I needed to wait until I was patient enough to be wapped in the face while making.

Useless brooms are my favorite kind of power object. Queering domesticity.

Letterpress day

We finally acquired a letterpress, after years of dreaming and assuming we would never have the space or money to acquire one. We got incredibly lucky when a local dude close to retirement decided he didn’t need one for his printing business anymore, and we just so happened to spot it on the local online marketplace. It was for an extremely reasonable price, in perfect condition, and he was even willing to deliver for $50. We oculdn’t be luckier— though I was definitely anxious about it surviving the ride on the truck, which seemed to be actively disintegrating under his feet as he lowered it into our alley.

Just as lucky, we had just happened to finally clean up the garage the month before and install a heat source for winter. It felt like the stars aligned in a big way. We decided to test it for the first time on reprinting booklet covers for my broom zine with a type I found on ebay- two brooms tied with ribbons, seemingly from an old newspaper. It was a beautiful Sunday, printing covers and making hot ham and rolls on the new wood stove.

I am very lucky that my partner Tom studied letterpress in college and is able to show me how it works!

I spent maple sugar season at my sugar shack writing and revising my zine, Plain Living II & Plain Living I, which are works I began around 2012 when I started urban homesteading for the first time as a diy punk in chicago, Il. It was a fun project to work on while tending to my maple taps, and even more fun to be able to print more covers by hand. The hunt for good letterpress pieces is like foraging on eBay. I was very happy with the results and I look forward to experimenting more with the letterpress over the next few years (until we die, because I am never moving this piece of equipment again!)

Imbolc - Willow Basketry and Coppicing

This weekend I travelled to Viroqua to study traditional european basket weaving techniques in willow with Anni of Weave the Day. It was a very cold weekend, but not as snowy as you typically see this time of year in Wisconsin. It was easy to learn coppicing without being knee deep in the snow. They brought us into the field to learn coppicing, which is a willow cutting technique done in the winter when the plant is dormant, to encourage new growth and gather weaving materials. You cut the second year growth only- seeking the color change in the different varieties of willow, imitating the beaver in its natural habitat.

We spent three days weaving our baskets, with short breaks for food and stretching, and one field trip to Avalanche Looms which was an absolute delight! We learned several structural techniques, as well as how to finish the basket and cure the basket and willow. Honestly it was one of the most challenging classes i’ve ever taken- my mental fatigue was so strong on the last day I was unable to compute how to finish the top rim of my basket, and needed assistance. But I am in love with my new basket and will treasure it for the rest of my life. The colors of natural willow are out of this world. I look forward to returning for another class- perhaps after a lengthy break! I did come home and practice coppicing, and wove a simple fence of willow and dogwood around the lingonberries in my garden.

Mini Residency

This week I hosted a small cohort of fellow creatives at my family cabin west of Milwaukee. We each worked on very different projects for the weekend, but took breaks for nature walks, hikes, foraging, sauna and of course— fika.

ive grappled with this painting for three years but I think i’m finally done.