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ojovivo
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
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EXPECTATIONS
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gracie abrams
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Claire Keane
blake kathryn
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trying on a metaphor
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#extradirty
KIROKAZE
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
art blog(derogatory)
oozey mess
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@bikepath
I'm soon closing up the online shop in preparation for my summer departure to the euro zone! To clear out the studio I'm offering 20% off everything in my shop WHOA WHAT that's right stock up on your tapestries while you can! Use coupon code BONVOYAGE at check out and send me off knowing my weavings have happy new homes! Offer expires next Monday May 23rd 2016!
https://www.etsy.com/ca/shop/LIZTOOHEYWIESE
You’re WELCOME
Newest Weave “Try Angles II”
Triangles are the best for weaving. You heard it here first!
Anni Albers came to prominence in the German Bauhaus, when the stark gender separations within the school prevented many female artists from pursuing painting and architecture. Anni turned to textiles as a means of exploring modernist ideas of abstraction and color, building on her predecessors’ work in the Bauhaus weaving workshop. After moving to the states and taking up residency at Black Mountain College, where she taught alongside her beloved Josef Albers, she became the first designer to have a one-person show at MoMA. Her writings and designs transform the idea of timelessness into heart-held truth.
With Verticals detail, 1946. Photo from The Josef and Anni Albers Foundation.
Design for Smyrna Rug, 1925. Photo from The Josef and Anni Albers Foundation and MoMa.
Wall Covering Fabric Sample, after 1933. Photo from The Josef and Anni Albers Foundation and MoMa.
Anni in her weaving studio at Black Mountain College, 1937. Photo by Helen Post Modley.
If you’re in Los Angeles, the Black Mountain College exhibition at the Hammer is going on now.
Brand new bb up in the shop.
“Shoreline” weaving by Liz Toohey-Wiese
Moon Weave 🌚 by Liz Toohey-Wiese
Hi want fifty bucks? Sign up for my newsletter ! You'll be entered to win $50 off anything in my Etsy shop, currently stocked with weavings, cards, and prints. Or save that discount till the end of the month when I will have LOOMS for sale in there too. You can also apply the discount to my Weaving 101 workshop in Victoria this month! If you are already subscribed, you are already entered! I'll announce a winner at the end of the week! Good luck!
Happy 2016! Resolution: match my pots to my weaves, my weaves to my pots.
HELLO VICTORIA let me teach you how to weave. Coming to Vancouver Island on January 16th for two lessons, sign up for either 10 am-12:30 pm or 1-3:30 pm. Purchase through Etsy to save your spot! Going to be hosted by the most beautiful floral shop Rook and Rose who have generously offered up their workshop space for our purposes. Tell you island folk friends! See you next month! :-)
Would you wear something made out of fabric with this pattern design by Alvin Lustig?
Cohama fabric design, 1945. Alvin Lustig papers, Archives of American Art, Smithsonian Institution.
1945 come ON
I’m slow on the uptake but finally will be writing a monthly textiles newsletter. Good news! Be the first to know about weaving workshops I’ll be hosting in 2016! Sneak preview: they’ll be in Vancouver, Victoria, and Squamish!
Sign up here
1914
A Qagyuhl woman wears a fringed Chilkat blanket and a mask representing a deceased relative who had been a shaman.
Image: Edward S. Curtis/Library of Congress
(photo by Liz Toohey-Wiese)
QUESTIONS TO ASK YOURSELF BEFORE GIVING UP
November 19, 2015 by Kaitlyn Boulding
Questions to ask yourself before giving up:
Are you hydrated? When did you last glut your thirst with a handful of spring?
Have you eaten anything besides emails or your fingernails in the last three hours? Have you pulled the protein out of an oak tree or palmed an avocado pit this month? Are your forlorn probiotics
languishing on your butter shelf? Are you dressed? If so, does your skirt strike matches alight as you walk by? Can you melt it a little around your waist and ribcage? Are you resisting
a dream? Wrestling a dreamless night? Let yourself take a bath in your bed clothes for fifteen minutes, no pressure to fall asleep. But make sure to turn off all your beehives first. At least take them out of your bedroom.
Have you uncoiled the ropes of your legs and strung them along the length of the city today? Have you let a lake or a snow bank sketch silent letters on your back? When did you last give away
your unworn clothes, your well-fitting metaphors? Tell a neighbour or a person across the coffee shop counter how well they catch the light.
Have you snugged into a seedpod in the past couple days? Do you need a massage? Complete something
smaller than a lichen: return a library book, or a letter, or a look, or a relationship you regret. Sew a button on that’s come loose. Crack a window. Crack an egg.
Do you feel unattractive? Rub your skin with smooth stones or strong magnets. Wear sunglasses. Take your reflection in on the surface of a puddle.
Give yourself ten minutes. Give yourself ten years. Give yourself an orgasm. Give yourself a change of seasons. Give yourself a new lover. Give yourself a to-do list written with sidewalk chalk and hopscotch across it.
Have you been working really hard shovelling all the sidewalks of your friendships? Remember it takes time to recover from exertion, especially when you are a seedling.
Know that your friends want to send help. They want to send daffodils and their extra hands to braid your hair. They all want to be deciduous trees and long semi-coloned sentences for you. They want to.
Remember: you are a comma, one beloved earring, a house circled on a traveller’s map, sometimes misplaced, but never an imposition.
Everyone feels like a hallway at some point or another. But you are a room that people enter to stay.
(Originally published in GUTS magazine)
My painter pal Colin Dorward made this vase, and I love it so much I had to make a weaving to match. Both Colin and I are trained as painters, but have pretty important craft practices to compliment. I added this one to my Etsy shop at liztooheywiese.etsy.com, and go visit Colin’s paintings at www.colindorward.com
ps. I’m back on the Instagram :^) Follow me = liz2e
Ragnar Sandberg (Swedish, 1902-1972), Sommarnatt [Summer night], 1932. Canvas, 65 x 72 cm.
(this makes me miss musquidoboit. but bring on the scandinavian landscapes!)
