MY MOTHER’S GARDEN
“In search of my mother's garden, I found my own.” – Alice Walker
HOW THIS BEGAN
Continuing on with my found direction in exploring three-dimensionality out of my two-dimensional photographic work, I looked to my architectural background in search of object and form and how it’s used to define space.
I asked-
How might I (the artist) sculpt that space so that one might experience that space different and new? What kinds of objects? What forms? What shapes?
How might the space shape us, and how is it that we (the occupiers of that space) shape space? How do our personal experiences and biases influence and affect our impressions? Can we take a classic representational form and abstract it?
If walls aren’t linear. If ceilings aren’t flat. If the ground on which we walk isn’t quite so solid. What might our experience of this space be? How might it taste…smell….feel?
How might I recreate my new-found paper cutting, folding and sewing, in a new form?
What subject matter might lend itself to bend and curve - forming abstractions within its representational form?
My chosen subject matter - would be flowers. Garden flowers. With a new set intention and in a new light - I would photograph my mother’s perennial garden that continued to blossom and bloom beyond her.
And - the first of the season
were always
the tiniest of
blue forget-me-nots.
BEGINNING WITH A SEWN PAPER SPHERE
I thought I might create a series of large domes and spheres that define and occupy space.
Looking to my foundational studies, I returned to Buckminster Fuller’s original structure of his geodesic dome. In its essence - it’s made up of simple equilateral and isosceles triangles that become locked and rigid as they connect.
I’d develop a paper system that might work in the same compressive way.
ALAS
Thread hardly provides a rigid structure. Paper is not steel. All attempts at creating this composition failed. But - in every failure there is a lesson learned. A new possibility.
As there was - within this.
My process
These triangles - when sewn together - became six and seven-sided forms. Hexagons and heptagons that - when further sewn together - took on unexpected sculptural form.
Forget-me-nots were replaced by bright red poppies.
And white daisies and yellow black-eyed-susans and purple coneflowers and pink flox and thistles and hen & chicks and other flowers that have yet to be identified or named. In truth - I’d been photographing them all for years. Mostly with my macro lens. Mostly - exploring them individuality in their beauty and grace.
But that’s not how we experience a garden.
We walk thru a garden.
It is a blur of color, of movement, of texture and scent. It is multi-layered….multi-dimensional. It is filled with life - hummingbirds, butterflies and bees. A garden is a multi-sensory experience. A summer happening. It’s sunshine and rain and morning dew. It’s an evolving event.
I aimed to photograph that blur. To capture and preserve it.
I printed and cut each 2-sided image into triangular forms that became abstracted hexagonal flowers when sewn. I thought a lot about color and combinations and how to fabricate these structures so they compliment and blend. I considered ordering them in the way that they blossom and bloom, following their progression
And then - I let it go.
The true colors of any garden are always a surprise. Let this be equally so.
OBSESSED
with the process of printing, cutting, folding and sewing.
Repetitive. Mindful and mindless.
A quiet meditation connecting me to the abstract shapes, colors and forms of the garden.
This quilted garden continued to grow…And grow…And grow.
In many ways - I’ve arrived at just another beginning
I see it as a magic carpet that might cover the horizontal and vertical planes of a space.
I see it as a series of curvilinear walls thru which one might have the sense of walking thru an endless garden.
I see it suspended from overhead creating a canopy of color.
I see it as a 3-dimensional sculpture hung on a wall. One might run their hands thru the folded paper and - again - experience differently.
I see it as fluid. Ever-evolving and changing. From the first blooms of early spring…to those that fade into autumn.
And – I see it as an expression of love – for my family history and legacy…for my mother and all that she loved. Her spirit passed on and re-imagined thru the eyes of her daughter – me.
I don’t know where this direction is leading….but I find myself compelled to see it thru.
Nature - continues to be my muse and inspiration. The seasons - my guide.
Summer greens are fading into autumn reds and golds. Winter white - will be here soon.
For the full end-of-semester PDF - click here.