If the machinery goes, we will repair it

If it goes again, we will repair it again

[shithowdy]

hey now

[spaceshipignition]

Yes!!!!!!!!

[fatchance]

Baby rock squirrel (Otospermophilus variegatus) nibbling mesquite beans, and nuzzling mom. At San Pedro House, Cochise County, Arizona.

[spaceshipignition]

I made this! I've been the resident artist at my local library branch since February. All of the photos reproduced in this quilt are from the library archives except for two -- one is me with toddler E on the beach in Maine, the other is google image search 'salamander'. It's good! Tomorrow I bind it!

[ashadowonsnow]

I remember the racy, dreamy, light-headed pleasure of that morning's haul in the sunlight over the abysses.

The Left Hand of Darkness

[papayajuan2019]

must feel so good to be soil absorbing rain

[lamignonette]

[pmamtraveller]

Cat and kitten door knocker, Clun, England

[gouged-doll]

katrín sigurdardóttir

[spaceshipignition]

Also for my birthday we did a trash cleanup at our neighborhood gross little access road / wastewater overflow stream and we saw this guy in there!!! The first living thing I've spotted IN the water! A northern slimy salamander! For real!

[spaceshipignition]

I installed most of my solo show in the library yesterday (I got picked to be an artist in residence at one of the local libraries this spring!!! Huge!!!) And they scheduled a call with me today to deliver & discuss the feedback they received almost immediately from a patron....that my art install is "demonic" :/

I felt very bummed and alone and unsure what to do with this for about three hours until I remembered that this is what my time on timblr has been making a way for this whole time! In the way that they guy from The Sparrow's life was for the ending of The Sparrow

[mybeingthere]

Wally Dion, born 1976, Saskatoon, Saskatchewan.

Fabric Star Quilts.

Wally (Walter) Dion is a Canadian artist of Saulteaux ancestry living and working in Upstate New York. Working in a number of media including painting, drawing and sculpture.

Wally explains:

"The first fabric star quilt was made as part of a 2022 residency at Wanuskewin Park. It was my way of reflecting upon prairie tall grass and the reintroduction of bison into the Great Plaines. I wanted to make several transparent quilts and superimpose them; one in front another... a quilt for the microbiome, another for the bison, their manure & hooves, another for the summer fires that scorch the ground and a final quilt for the sweetgrass braid.

I was considering how all of these things worked together for thousands of years to create what is known as the 'prairie tall grass ecosystem'. A vast and fertile expanse of land stretching from the foothills of Alberta to the banks of the Mississippi. I wanted to highlight the invisibility of systems when everything is working well, as it should be.

I started with the green quilt because it is the colour of the sweet grass braid that is exchanged in ceremony and relationship building. I considered the nature and tradition of quilting; impoverished craftspeople using tiny scraps of fabric. I considered the act of offering fabric and adherence to tradition. I thought of a thousand tiny prayers and how that might look; invisible acts of respect and adherence to protocols spanning decades. My thoughts travelled across the land, imagining the trees and rocks collecting these prayers like a bush of cloth, or an etched boulders."

fabric quilts - Wally Dion

prairie tall grass quilts, Bonavista NL, 2023 bison quilt, 2023. 127 ¼ h x 106 ¼ w. fabric, copper pipe. fire quilt, 2023

[micahdotgov]

slimy to the moon

[the-frog-blog]

Spring is coming with a knowledgeberry in the mouth

[morellish]

mourning dove perching on the remains of last years sunflower

[lamignonette]

[theprofessional-amateur]

I am reading an interview with a historian that set out to weave the type of textiles that was sold to plantations for use by enslaved people using period appropriate looms.

But because I knew nothing about weaving, everything had to be explained to me, down to the most basic tacit knowledge: things that an eight-year-old girl in 1828 would have known, because when she was not winding yarn around a quill to help her mother, she was working on the family’s loom herself...

The great challenge of our work as scholars—at least, those who are interested in historical reconstruction or the histories of any craft tradition—is that almost none of what we want to know is written down—because it didn’t have to be and it didn’t need to be articulated. So to be in a situation where expert weavers had to talk to me like I was a child was one of the best things that happened to me in the course of my research for this book.

[theprofessional-amateur]

Cloth and Complicity: Seth Rockman on Plantations, Textiles, and the Art of Weaving - Public Books

“But I had found a set of instructions in the archives of one of New England's leading manufacturers of low-end woollen cloth for enslaved w

For my textile, weaving, historic textile, history enthusiasts

The interviewer is also a weaver!

[theprofessional-amateur]

SW: ... That’s really awesome. You’ve taught this class now for two semesters. What have you learned from your students?

SR: Their expertise as makers has clued me into historical experiences most scholars have glossed right over. A 1930s Federal Writers Project interview with a formerly enslaved octogenarian might reference a grandmother’s sewing prowess, but then a student will say, No, you can’t just skim over by that! Do you know how many hand stitches it takes to do the seam of a dress? If you’ve never handsewn a skirt (and I haven’t), you might need to be reminded of the labor involved. One student reproduced a 19th-century skirt as her final project, and it was all about the stitches. Their reading of primary sources picked up on things that I missed.

And this took me in new directions in my own research. You might remember a discussion of sewing labor in the final chapter of Plantation Goods and the implication of a cloth’s width for a woman’s work routine. If you know how to cut the pieces for a shirt from a 32-inch-wide piece of fabric, it is going to mess everything up when you’re given a bolt of 28-inch-wide cloth. I had seen letters from slaveholders in the 1830s and 1840s complaining about the narrowness of the cloth and how enslaved women didn’t “understand” these fabrics. This wasn’t transparent to me as a historian. Only with students talking about the expertise involved in cutting cloth into the components of a garment did I realize what a difference it made when, say, a New England weaver was haphazard and turned out fabric four inches narrower than the usual variety. That error would reverberate in the lives of people 1,000 miles away who might face extreme forms of violence because they couldn’t meet their daily production quotas. Or they might experience other kinds of privation—a lack of rags for postpartum women, for example—because a wider fabric left scraps while a narrower one did not.

[sitting-on-me-bum]

Yum Yum

Ahmed Sobhi

The 35 Photography Awards