Don’t Pay No Mind to the Demons*

Copyediting is almost done (yay!)…it seems like I will never be done with cutting pieces out though. I’m sure that’s not really true, but some nights, it seems like I don’t really get much done. Tonight should be better…quilt class will give me a bigger chunk of time. Of course, I could come home any night and blow off all other responsibilities and just make art…wait, I do that already some nights. Certainly I haven’t brought any schoolwork home this week, unless you count printing new rosters. I had to add one kid and delete two. It was very time-consuming.

Anyway, the copyediting will hopefully be out of my hair sometime in the next four days. I potentially have another project coming up, but I’m still debating that one, and she may balk at price. We’ll see.

I’m waiting for this flower stalk to just burst out…it’s been getting taller and taller (no middle-school jokes here guys…I get those all day long)…

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I did more flower-type things on the right side…

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I may just do those all the way down. OR! I should do a flower stalk from an agave in here maybe. That would be cool…

This dog. Seriously. She sleeps in the weirdest positions…

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And this one. He was not happy that I was copyediting instead of throwing the ball for him (no worries…my co-dog-minder took care of that later)…

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I only did a few hours of copyediting…I’m on the second readthrough. And I’ll do a third, because I’m finding some mistakes in the second read. I hate that. But I worked for this guy before and he seems to like what I do to his stuff, so we’re good. But if I do it too late, I know I’m missing stuff.

Then I started cutting…this is a pile of fleshy pieces for the little heads and arms on the top of the larger head…

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I don’t cut the super tiny ones out until I’m ironing, because I lose them too easily. But here’s a pile of all the stuff I cut out before I started in on the bigger flesh pieces, the ones from the larger figure.

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At some point, Simba threw himself on my lap and refused to just lie next to me.

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So it’s hard to see progress…but you can see I did get into the larger flesh pieces. What’s left to cut out is on the right…

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I think once I get through the big fleshy pieces, I probably only have a couple hundred pieces to do. So hopefully tonight we’ll see some significant progress. I’m unlikely to be able to mentally copyedit (well) after 10 PM…and I have quilt class until 8, then dogs and dinner, so I suspect I might try to do one section (but that’s how I miss the mistakes). So I’m thinking 3 or 4 hours of cutting instead. We’ll see.

Yeah, even Simba thinks Calli sleeps weird.

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I have to laugh. I’m expecting some art notifications in the next few weeks, and one came a day early, a rejection. I wasn’t expecting anything but a rejection from that one, but I keep trying. It’s an art gallery, but they have taken fiber art in the past…just not mine. The one I was supposed to hear about yesterday hasn’t sent anything, which sometimes is a rejection, right? I hate when they do that…but I suspect it’s just that they didn’t get done, based on previous interactions with them. There’s another one this month that I really want, but I won’t die if I don’t get it. I never do. Rejection is reality. But I did have two friends send me a link to the same entry notice…one they both thought my work was good for. And it probably is…and because I got the one rejection, I definitely have work I can enter! See…one door closes and another one opens. Sometimes it takes a while…but that’s OK. I keep making and the world takes some of them and not the others.

OK, visitors AND a lab in class today. Prepare for chaos. Tomorrow too. Don’t even ask me about next week. I might over-react.

*Phillip Phillips, Home

Ah Rejection

The quilt peeks its head up from the pile on the chest of drawers, those ready to be rolled up and hidden in the closet until they are called out again. “Mommy, when do I get to go somewhere?” I don’t know, pretty little quilt of mine. I just don’t know. I made you with all the crap and emotions that were deep inside me, poured gallons of salty tears on top of you when I stitched you, there’s probably even blood tacked under some piece or another. I drew your pattern while my brain wriggled around, trying to find a solution to how it felt, to make it better, and dear, sweet, little quilt (who is not so little really, with over 2000 pieces and 140 hours rolling around inside it), you DID make me feel better, and I know that was not your only goal. But it was a good one. And it worked.

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As to why you don’t get to go hang on a wall somewhere? Be patient, my little friend. You have not aged out like some that fill that space in the closet, some that were shown here, there, and everywhere, and some that were rolled up years ago and never go anywhere. Like some people you know, really. Some travel all over, are gone every weekend, have no evening free…and you…you sit here most nights cutting up little pieces of fabric and ironing them back together to make pictures that beg to be seen and never leave.

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So I guess that’s what the internet is for…seeing what doesn’t get in. And the thing is, as I read yet another rejection letter, very nicely penned, with a huge number of entries listed, I knew I wouldn’t get in. I’m not innovative enough. I have no desire to be innovative. Am I cutting edge? I don’t think so, unless cutting edge means not pretty, and I don’t think it does. I’m not using new materials or wildly different techniques, it’s not a new take on an old classic. None of the gimmicks apply. It is simply imagery on fabric…strange imagery at that. Sometimes painful imagery. Sometimes not. Sometimes just plain weird. Hey, it’s my brain. I can’t explain how it works. I just know that it does.

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Fuck. Wait until they see the new one…the bathtub quilt. And there are how many of them in my head? Clamoring to come out? Not to mention those that are already drawn. I’ve never really done a series, and now here I am, putting naked women in bathtubs (it’s been DONE!) with all their shit spread out around them. Just like real life.

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Moving on. Making more. Keep rejecting me. I don’t stop. I’m the Energizer bunny of art quilts.