This was my mother's proudest piece of weaving, done sometime in the 00s. It's based on a photo she took in Queenstown. She (natural?) dyed all her yarns, and spun most. It took her agonizing months of do-overs, making her doubt if she could ever weave something she saw in her mind, with exasperated Dad shouting from the living room to get a "more pleasant" hobby!
This is a photo of the original photo on film. It's hard to tell because I took this under harsh hotel room lights, while the top pic of the piece, in a more subtle living room, but the light and saturation are very close in real life. The blurriness of the pic didn't matter because she wanted to capture the red of the lichen a little distance away. She had this piece in a group exhibition in Japan once or twice, and I borrowed it for my 2007 exhibition; this was the only piece of weaving a visitor was interesting in purchasing. :-D I'd come to think of Mom as having been more interested in dyeing and spinning, and then in weaving, but I now think that's wrong. She often had complete/bigger pictures, far more than my very narrow focus, and honed in on different aspect depending on the project. This was the one project she wanted to perfect all three equally. Dad and I can tell you, though, Mom went into the greatest length of research, trial and error, and, oh, the reworking, in dyeing.
There was at least one more piece she worked almost as passionately, one trying to recreate the azures of the Mediterranean, which she gave me. Except... it was/is a cotton bathroom mat, which we use, and wash, ruthlessly, so the poor thing now looks like a rag of many blues.
Mom died, in her sleep we believe, early Sunday morning, after I saw her for the first time in over five years. She will be cremated with the tapestry piece among few other of her favorite things this morning. But no, no; no rest in peace for her, she'll hit the ground/cloud running, looking for interesting folks to talk to, in English if the spirit moves, because Dad will inevitably be among them; she'll probably hear his uproarious laughter before she sees him.
Good travels, you two.
1 comment:
lovely post.
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