Showing posts with label lunatic fringe. Show all posts
Showing posts with label lunatic fringe. Show all posts
Saturday, July 31, 2021
Musings: Art Outside the Box: Laughter for Drama Queens
11:14 PM | 
Posted by
Ellen Anne Eddy |
Now Margaret Eddy was the queen of all stories. And a serious fan of silly. She told amazing whoppers, one-liners, true tales spun into gold from straw, hopeless lies and astonishing steaming piles. She loved her drama. She had a somewhat loose relationship to truth. She was a devastating school teacher, because much of that could indeed come out in a teacher conference meeting or a family reunion. But she had a special gift for looking within and without. First she's build you a verbal image of herself as she felt about the story. But then she'd draw you into an outer view, where you could see her spinning in what she knew was a silly situation, build for howling laughter.
It happens to me in my quilts. I'm quilting along and I realize that this silly thing I've drafted is someone I know. Or worse, me. There with all my rather small fears and desires. I'm not overly deep. I'm just noisy. At that point, it seems just to the point to let it be silly. I am. It is. And the world is better for it.
This quilt, The Orchid Olympics, wasn't meant to be funny. It just happened. I'd found a great picture of a frog in an odd pose and worked with it. One afternoon in a class demo, I was placing it into the piece and trying to put a sun over his head. It wouldn't go. It just wouldn't go. Not over. Not to the side.
I looked again at the frog and thought, "If you get into that pose, it has to be for something like the Olympics. No one would willingly bend like that otherwise." The sun fell into her hand like an award and there we were.
Mirror, mirror on the wall, I am my mother after all. But I try never to tell a story on myself until I've found the funny part. Perhaps it helps to be short, round and have a pug nose. My gray hair also makes any silliness forgivable.
Friday, January 6, 2012
Bad Raps, and Bad Wraps
I grew up reading the Jungle Books by Kipling, so I've always loved wolves. The wolves take this baby in and raise him as one of their cubs. Like most adoptive processes, there's a bit of cognitive dissonance about the whole thing. He doesn't fit in well.
So this video touched me. It's about perception and reality. For all of her obvious concern when she sees the wolves, they scatter when she says "Git!" The wolves are not evil. They're just wolves.
This last year I've been working on the issue of bullies. I really don't want to go to my grave grieving over things that happened when I was seven. And like all really good emotional issues, the opportunities come back again and again until I can find better solutions. There's two schools of though on this. "Oh no! Not another learning experience!" And, "There you are again!"Bullies function on a wolf perception.Someone has to be perceived either as a wolf to be driven away or a wolf who will probably eat you. Like most binary systems, it has some serious limits.
It occurs to me that two things have to happen to create a wolf perception. We have to give someone a bad rap. We give ourselves reasons why they've done what they've done. Maybe it's true. Often enough, that's a fantasy too. We just convince ourselves of their bad action and intent.
And then we dress them as villains. Give them a bad wrap to wear: a black hat, a swirling evil cloak, an evil glint to their eye.
I've had it happen to me as well. I've had people hand me my black cloak and hat and tell me why I'm a danger.
It's not that I believe there is no evil in the world. It's there. Nor do I believe it my job to change people's choices. I wouldn't take someone's path away from them like that. If we don't walk our path as best we can, we won't learn from it.
But after years of dressing people in bad wraps and giving them bad raps and being dressed in the same, it occurs to me that they might just scatter if I said, "Git!" My perception is power I give or take, all by myself.
You'll find the Jungle Book at Amazon.com. Skip the Disney copies. They're cute but a completely different story.
You'll find people who want to dress up in funny black cloaks and be icky and people who want to dress you too in all kinds of odd places. I hope you can say "Git!" to them too.
Monday, December 26, 2011
The Sprinkles on the Donut
I'm not that good an actress.
I was at church for Christmas day. The choir at this church takes off for Christmas. I could have sat in the choir pews, but I ended up in the general congregation.
I'm not an alto as a show off. It's simply where my range is. I can't sing the high notes reliably. It happens occasionally, but like Tuesday, anything could happen. So I was singing the alto line, against the bulk of the congregation on the melody.
It's different within the choir. You expect to hear the part above and below you. The blend is planned and it's where you belong.
This was much more separate, and more isolating.
At the end of the service it occurred to me that much of my life is that way: a counterpoint to melodies I can not reach. My plans for the holiday collapsed and I ended up more alone than was comfortable.
I was speaking afterwards to the choir director who said, "You know, you'll never be the donut. You're the sprinkles on the donut. And that's why we want the donut anyway.
I don't get to eat donuts either, but I've learned to appreciate allergy foods as a visual experience. And I'm an edible color chart! There are worse fates and worse goals.
Friday, December 23, 2011
The Wizard of Odd
Lately, they've been playing the Wizard of Oz again. It occurred to me just how much of our language comes from that amazing movie.
Most movies are a cultural moment at best. They expand on a moment in time. What is a classic changes with the wind, but I think we can say that it's about how it changes the way people think.
I was going through the number of phrases that the Wizard cemented into my verbal landscape:
- "If I only had a brain."
- "Ding, dong, the witch is dead."
- "Over the rainbow."
- "And your little dog too."
- "I hope my courage holds out. I hope your tail holds out."
- "I'm melting."
- " Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain."
That being said, I take heart in this. When someone says, "You quilt, right? Can you make me a bed quilt? In beige?"
I remind myself that my glory and my crown, my hope and my consolation is that I be as gloriously odd as I am. And that if I do it well a small part of the world will shift for it.
Those of us doing our art shift the archetypes. Not purposely, or with cause, but simply by bringing our vision to the world. It's not something one picks and chooses. It's simply an act of trust to bring what your heart demands into being. We bring it all to the table and let time sort it out.
Labels:
archetypes,
books,
life as an artist,
lifestyle,
lunatic fringe,
movies,
story telling,
Wizard of Oz
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Monday, December 12, 2011
Lauren Strach: A Botanical Lunatic with a Plan
"My inspiration, like so many other quilters, comes from nature.
As a life-long biologist and Master Gardener, I thought I saw nature, but it wasn’t until I embraced my artful journey that I began to really see. My inspiration is found in the whorls of snail shells, the miniature worlds of mosses and lichens, the rugged nooks and crannies of the bark of the fallen tree, and the intricate shading and nuances in the early spring wildflowers. And, the more I see, the more I see.
The act of translating that vision in line, pattern and color into textile recreations introduces the next level of AHA! It is an ever fascinating challenge to take the experience of seeing with eyes wide open, to shape it into form. From the fantastical realism of exaggerated insects, to the abstracted likeness of the quintessential flower bud, I seek to uncover the universal codes, to bring them to life with fabric and thread. Tactile, textile translations of the mysteries of nature, celebrating the wonders of life, that is where I find my inspiration.
Lauren's work has been showed at both Paducah and Houston. She was a finalist in the $100,000 Quilt Challenge. Where will she show next? It could be anywhere. If she doesn't send it in, it's likely
to fly in on it's own.
Wednesday, December 7, 2011
Maharishi of the Vacuum Cleaner
No one actually cleaned much of anything in my childhood home. We lived in a pleasantly shabby small house carefully insulated by mountains of books. So once every five years or so, someone would put some effort into finding the floor and once found, vacuuming it. Of course that took in my case, huge quantities of ice cream. In my mother's case, similar quantities of gin. Either way we never faced it chemically unimpaired. It may explain why she thought it was funny to chase me around the room with it. It may also explain my complete dread of them.
But at a certain point you decide that your childhood is past. The floor is in shambles and it would be nice to see what color the rug is. So I went on the search for the vacuum I wouldn't hate.
This was not easy. We went through a Royal, several Hoovers, a Eureka canister that lasted a week.We have a dog cookie under every rug and mattress and wisps of thread escaped from the studio. Some of them whole and some in crumbs. Admittedly, this is a hard life for any vacuum cleaner.
OMG did this thing whirl fur and fluff around. So it was with tears in my eyes I watched it die today.It was almost a whole month old. Could I find the receipt? Of course not. So I went online, and found the manual. While I was looking for the belt, one of the hoses fell off spewing crumblies everywhere. When I looked in the hose there was a small plastic bottle.
What could it be? I poked at it with broom handles, my croquet mallet handle, the fire poker, the skewers we use for roasting marshmallows. It finally gave it up for particularly long mop handle.
So I am now, by right of my passage Maharishi of the Vacuum Cleaner.Chief bottle washer too. And I know where I put the Sewer's Aid. Life is good. Now where did I put the floor?
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
The Distraction Faction
I live in dread of distraction. So it is with serious fear that I face the holidays. I have a really low attention span, and I multitask unmercifully, but I know I will leave three out of five of those tasks in the dust. So when the holidays come, I know I really ought to find the floor.
This year we had a particular reason why that was vital.
This is Tom and Sarah.
This is Tom and Sarah with munchkin. It's astonishing how something so small can hold your whole heart that tightly.
Keira is at seven months, a bright sunny soul who likes soft boiled eggs, bee bop music, and is working on toy tossing as an Olympic sport. We had visions of what she'd do when she found the dog bones so we at least had to clean that much up. After that it became the search for more suction in vacuum cleaner land.
The weirdest thing has happened to me. It was bad enough at the baby shower. I actually made a baby quilt. Since it's out of all my apron prints, it includes ghosts, tigers, hawks, spiders, and beetles. We thought we ought to start her early on those things.
But I'm knitting...............................!
I was really worried about having been distracted in this way and then it came to me. I won't really have to have someone pry the knitting needles out of my hands. They come in pairs and I'm bound to lose one sooner or later.
Either way, I've been given the ultimate delight of a tiny hand waving wet spoons and toys at me as I sing her bee bop. Pretty good for a maiden fairy godmother.
Keira lives in Austin with my God kids, Tom and Sarah, They better bring her back soon or, God knows what I'll knit.
This year we had a particular reason why that was vital.This is Tom and Sarah.
But I'm knitting...............................!
I was really worried about having been distracted in this way and then it came to me. I won't really have to have someone pry the knitting needles out of my hands. They come in pairs and I'm bound to lose one sooner or later.
Either way, I've been given the ultimate delight of a tiny hand waving wet spoons and toys at me as I sing her bee bop. Pretty good for a maiden fairy godmother.
Keira lives in Austin with my God kids, Tom and Sarah, They better bring her back soon or, God knows what I'll knit.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
April H. Center: A Brilliant Painter with Words
 |
| Holding up the World by Ellen Anne Eddy |
What Matters Now
Copyright 2011
By April Center
The trees know. The seasons require attention of different matters.
In spring they stretch their arms reaching for the light and the warmth,
With an awakening that follows throughout the millennium.
The sap slowly flows it’s lifeblood through their veins long before tiny sprouts appear
Like tiny fingers, whispering, reaching to grasp the hope and pursuit of sunlight,
Finding succor for the summer
Ever beckoning, wooing, breathing, soothing.
No need for wondering what matters now in the halcyon days of spring.
The trees know what matters in the glorious summer.
The trees are in full prayer and reverie – their chorus is heard easily
Above the canopy bestowing silent solace
Their arms with a million fans swaying, sometimes gently laughing, softly sighing
Sometimes boldly shouting, clapping and cheering
To the heartbeat of the wind – dancing,
Ever dancing with a grace beyond compare
The trees know what matters now in the ripe days of summer.
The trees know what matters in the fullness of time
In the slow fall from grace
No longer hindered, the trees and their kin shrug off their summer shroud
To be found scattered and strewn on the ground preparing a bed.
They sigh with a satisfied sleepiness after the dance.
A kaleidoscope of color shivers from their frames,
The painted beauty now leaves no trace,
What is left is the enduring body and face.
In the twilight of autumn the trees know what matters in the universe.
The trees know what matter most at this time. No longer concealed
Is their courage standing in place, always there but rarely seen while encased
In their garments of lace.
Not languishing, not laggardly, they brace
For the sharp, serrated winds that gust with the squalls of winter,
Withering all but the trees, for the trees know what matters in a world of much waste.
You'll find more writing of April's at Prudy's View.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Dancing with Design:A Little less real. A little more art.
I fight with realism. I really do. I wouldn't say I win over often. I'm not against realism. I think that like fire, it's a good tool and a harsh master.
So it was with great glee I found myself with a new design tool. Like most great tools, it's not an object so much as a headset. When I realized I could make flowers out of shapes, I then realized they didn't have to necessarily conform.
But what happens if you just make a shape and have them follow that? They abstract in such a cool way. And if you embroider them? Here are the same teardrop shapes centered around a gentle c shape. The shape gives us a path, and the smaller flowers fill in the empty spots.
I've explored this cool Dance of Design, in Jim West's Magazine, Quiltposium, pages 136-154 with a number of flowers. Go check it out. And take a shape out dancing today!
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Pat Winter: It's Always the Quiet Ones
The best Mermaids ever!
Tucked in a cute little farmhouse outside Chesterton Indiana lives a quiet wild lady named Pat Winter. Pat has to be one of the most inventive crazy quilters ever. And when I'm lucky she dyes fabric with me. This incredible mermaid book is one of her masterpieces. Here's what she has to say for herself.
Saturday, September 10, 2011
Laura Krasinski: Out on a Limb
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| He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not |
This is "the story of making a quilt of my daughter. It's called He Loves Me He Loves Me Not.
I was asked by Wendy Butler Berns if I would like to participate in her exhibit for Houston. It is called Out on a Limb.
I jumped at the chance since I have never had a quilt in a big show before. So she continues to tell me about the challenge and then said it had to be at least 50".... My jaw immediately dropped. I don't think I spoke a word for a minute or so.. .. I have never made a quilt that large. So I thought about it and decided I needed to make this. I took a photo of my daughter leaning against a tree. I took the photo and with the help of Wendy's technique I turned it into a 52"x64" quilt. I added a wall so I could put her cat Mr. Snuggles sitting on it. ... During the time I was making this quilt I had some major family issues. I really didn't think I would get it done. But, with the help and support of family and friends I did get it done, and in time. This was one of the best experiences of my life. Since I have done this quilt I feel like I need to do something better and maybe bigger. ...But, I am bound and determine to continue to make beautiful quilts now that I have found my true love. "
Her motto is "Everything will be o.k. in the end... if it's not o.k. it is not the end."
Fringe people aren't reasonable.Nor is their art. They follow their hearts and do what their heart demands. It's loveliest when you find their people understand and hold them up in that process.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Wild annie! Wade
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| Happy for No Reason |
annie! Wade is a wildly creative lady who I first learned about when she lived in Florida. Her work reflects the colors and chaos of the tropics.
Happy for No reason is a fabric book of "...of scraps and bits and pieces I’ve tried different techniques on…and just made me happy…for no reason! Named after a book I read earlier this year by Marci Shimoff.
 |
| Gator Geezer Gator Geezer started as a photo her husband took with the kids from an air boat. She says it was"…for my hubby of 33 years this weekend…was made of scraps that most people throw away. My son-in-law took some alligator pix when he was in the Everglades on a with my daughter and grandbaby and I knew I had to try to translate it with fabric. The original picture…which you can see on my blog…is quite different, and I still want to work on the eye…but otherwise, I think I’m done. LOVE using this technique to make quilts." |
I love the idea of a book that's happy just for happiness. That may well be the best reality we make for ourselves. I love when someone claims it in their art.
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
Celebrate the Fringe!
We're doing a follower give-away to celebrate all our wonderful fringy folk! We'll pick one winner from the lunatic fringe followers on October 1,2011.
Come join the fringe and get some fabulous fringy hand-dye to play with. Email Ellen to talk about putting up a guest blog.(It's not hard. It takes a couple pictures and a paragraph.We'll help.) Show us your Fringe!
Monday, September 5, 2011
Romance from the Edge of the Fringe
I Want A Man
I want a man who'll wash the dishes
I want a man who'll make the bed
I want a man who's not suspicious
I want a man who's halfway dead
I want a man who'll do the laundry
Vacuum the carpets, sweep the floor
I want a man who knows his boundaries
No one could ask for more.Uncle Bonsai
I want a man who'll make the bed
I want a man who's not suspicious
I want a man who's halfway dead
I want a man who'll do the laundry
Vacuum the carpets, sweep the floor
I want a man who knows his boundaries
No one could ask for more.Uncle Bonsai
For two years I've had lizards on my wall. No. I don't live in Florida. Or any where else where that kind of ambiance is every day. I've had two Komodo Dragon lizards on my design wall for over two years. I drew them dancing and the butterflies to go around them and left them there on the design wall, either like desert or like an unripe melon, waiting for later.
I wish I could see images fully when I draw them. For some reason I can't. I need to sit with them. I can walk into someone else's drawing and often tell them, this is off, this is out of proportion. For some reason, it's like I'm in a semi-dark room where I just can't quite see what's happening. So when I'm unsure, I'll sit a drawing where I can see it for a long time, to see what I might have missed.
In this case, that was wise. I could see the neck was wrong on one. The back needed to be wider on the other. I adjusted the drawings and then still waited.What for?
They're really scary. Not because they're Komodo dragons. I've met one actually, and I loved her. She was a modern day dinosaur. Now mind you, I'm glad she'd eaten first before I visited.
They represent all the fear I have over the dance between men and women. Romance scares me green.
It's not that it's not of interest. Although I'll admit that as I get older the guys get less appealing. And though I have a bevy of strong supportive women friends, I can't help but feel that I've missed something. I was an odd and distressed young woman who went through a whirl of inappropriate men, landed in therapy, and came out 15 years later with a better adjusted attitude and no one in sight. By then, art was my survival. It was past my life. I'd pulled all of my issues into different quilts, and dragged them one by one into my therapist's office. And I had a habit of living every extra moment of my life at my machine.
It's astonishing but true that men don't come into your studio by accident or design to meet you. I've also found that every time I've tried to engineer that, it doesn't work either. Sooner or later, I'm back in my studio. At 58, I'm resigned. Cats and dogs are truly lovely roommates. Besides, I'd need someone who could do light housecleaning, gardening, household repair and not watch sports. I don't believe that paragon exists anywhere.
Over the years I've watched my married friends, sometimes in jelousy, sometimes with joy for their joys, sometime in anguish at what they've had to face. I've heard their stories, cried with them, laughed with them, helped fight their battles, cheered at their victories, taken in their children as my own, given them back in a heart beat when it was time. I can't say it was easy. It was infinitely better than living in a hell of one. It grounded me to the world, which I do need some help on.
So it was with some shock as I watched a friend acknowledge that her gentle, kindly marriage, that I've truly envied, includes special moments where her husband radiates black rage and terrorizes her with it. Her oldest son tried practicing grandchild blackmail. You can imagine. He learned it somewhere.
I find myself needing to take out my tattered images of love and romance and say, "Is this what you had in mind?"
And I looked up and saw my dancing, romancing Komodo Dragons drawn waiting on my wall. Terrified.
Now the things I draw sometimes happen. I do not know why. It isn't something that's always true. But I watch for it. So when I draw something that scares me, I have a choice. I can dig my head in the sand and refuse the image, refuse to be part of it or work with it. Mind you, it doesn't go away. But denial is not just a river in Egypt.
Or I can work the image and see if somehow the magic happens. Sometimes, if you work through the fear and the pain, it flips over. Something falls into a different place, and the object of fear and pain becomes something lovely, if scary. Or funny. It shifts something in my head and it shifts something within the piece.It becomes a glorified wound, a resurrection.
I started this year, realizing that I had hid from these large lizards on my wall. I told myself lizards don't win awards. They don't get in shows. Why would you do a large quilt that will take months and months, that no one will want to see?
You don't pin a drawing to a wall for 2 years and ignore it because it's not important. The denial is a very wide river, dark and cold. I plunged in, picked out thread and fabric, and started to stitch.
Will my friend find a way to restructure her world? I've watched her do it time after time. She has the courage of mountains and stone.
I've taken my lizards and danced with them. That's my part.
I wrote this about a year ago.
As a complete surprise, these babes have gone to Houston. I don't have a good track record there, but I do believe that it's an honor to be shown. And it's my job to shock/scare/titillate/ and generally push people past some boundaries. I'd say my work is done.
You'll find the wonderful music of Uncle Bonzai at the Uncle Bonzai Home Page. They're irreverent, fun and wonderfully fringy.
You'll find Soulmates, my lizard quilt at in the humor section at Houston. Stop by and hum them a tune. I think they'll dance for you too.
As a complete surprise, these babes have gone to Houston. I don't have a good track record there, but I do believe that it's an honor to be shown. And it's my job to shock/scare/titillate/ and generally push people past some boundaries. I'd say my work is done.
You'll find the wonderful music of Uncle Bonzai at the Uncle Bonzai Home Page. They're irreverent, fun and wonderfully fringy.
You'll find Soulmates, my lizard quilt at in the humor section at Houston. Stop by and hum them a tune. I think they'll dance for you too.
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