Off - on - off

This one I love because I had envisioned it in a different orientation when I first made the bark lace and even when I placed it between the wet sheets of paper. But it all came together when I realized I had it all wrong. I wish that I could hibernate during some of my quiet slots of time, when I don't have to travel, as if that would recharge me more than 100%, in hopes that when I overexert myself, I'd have more than 100% to draw from. But that's not how it works.

I did, though, force myself to go to bed early and stay there for 12 hours last night so I would be in good shape to talk to Frank's history of anime and comics class at Lander University via Skype. We had some technical troubleshooting to do at first, but overall it went well. It's much easier to pull art, comics, and books a couple days before, take them to another room, hold them up to a webcam, and then put them away right after the talk. And they got to see my entire Bedhead series! A nice change from the usual antics to get myself and a suitcaseful of samples on a train, bus, train, car, or street to share. Now I can relax and enjoy the thunderstorms.

Slow down, catch up, repeat

I had too much fun with this new bedhead series. This weekend, I was finally able to see my regular hairdresser, and she was mortified by what I had done to myself in Seattle and Portland. I learned a lot of lessons after getting two haircuts that were not right at all for my hair (unruly wavy like mine is hard to cut), like the consequences of acting impulsively on a bad hair day. She wasn't able to completely repair the damage; it will be a two-step process. Hopefully by the time I get to Cleveland, it will be sorted out. I don't even want to think about finding someone there to cut my hair, and panic when I think of being in Ohio when my best photographer is in NYC, best hairdresser in Jersey, and best dentist in Chicago.

Flickr has completely imploded but I still managed to upload pictures from my Cleveland trip, here!

Outrageous riches

Oh, my. I had no idea what treasures were in store for me when I went to meet a textile conservator at the Met who specializes in Korean hemp and ramie.

I brought samples of my own, hanji and barks and the like. But I was so amazed by what she had done in her fieldwork that spans almost 10 years. She knows a hemp farmer in Korea who is trying to develop a market for hemp paper (you can see that below, both printed and not, to the left of the woven piece of fabric).

The stiff sample in the lower corner smells strong, starched with soybeans. This kind of material used to be widely prevalent in Korea but has fallen to near oblivion because it is so labor intensive and expensive. Of course it is women's work.

There was so much to talk about, so many notes to compare, overlaps and divergence in research, all in a small office where I sat next to lots of pins and needles. It amazes me how people do this conservation work full time but are also so devoted to their own research.

Straight: Korean ramie before removing the epidermis. Wound in a circle: Japanese hemp samples. She asked me how I make a living and I said I don't, really, in a way that makes sense to 'normal' folks. I used to think in my 20s that there had to be another way to make a living as an artist that was not 1. selling art through gallery representation or 2. teaching. Now I realize that, aside from the 0.001% of artists who can make a living solely off of making their art, there are only two ways to stay afloat: 1. working a job that is other than making your art or 2. having a patron (or more). Her concern was that if I go in direction #1, that I will not be able to keep my passion at the forefront of my life, and that she might call me in a few years and I'd say, "Oh, I don't do that [hanji stuff] anymore."

But I had a good back and forth with Tam yesterday and she seems to think I'll keep it front and center. I hope so. It's an uphill climb but isn't everything, at least everything that matters? Then I came home and was thrilled to get even more beautiful samples in the mail, this time from Susan Byrd. Four shifu samples, by her and by a master. Her book will be published this year by my publisher and I can't wait! This was the perfect way to start my work weekend, inspired.

Practiced silliness

I'm going to do a Skype talk to a class about my comics next week so I've been slowly pulling things out of archives and laughing at myself. I also got a chance to sit down and work on my bark lace in laminated colored sheets from playing at the Morgan vats, as well as other bits of paper and experiments. It's outrageously wonderful to get lost in a mess of paper and bark after sorting through the regular stresses of non-studio life, even if it's only a moment between tasks.

The newest hanji video

I've been slow in getting this video done, though it's less than two minutes. Editing and compression and uploading and announcing always take much, much longer than I'd like, but what I do like is that Mason from the Morgan was able to stand on a table to get a different perspective of the process of forming sheets of hanji. If you want to watch the same video on Vimeo, click here.

Surprise honor

Jolted back to work life by the news today that Hanji Unfurled was given an honorable mention in the reference category of the Eric Hoffer Book Award! The US Review of Books published a nice blurb, which was gratifying. It always seems like a miracle to me when someone reads my book, understands what I wrote, and can summarize it intelligently. A welcome miracle for which I am Very Grateful.

Incognita

I have been in hiding since my return from Cleveland, taking a breather. I have spent a lot of time at the Met. So much that I was on the steps with one friend and saw another climbing the stairs but let her go without flagging her down. I have spent time with lots of conservators lately, book and paper and textile, and it has been WONDERFUL. Though there are huge differences in what I do and what they do, there are also lovely overlaps, like how okay it is to be particular about tools, and particular about details.

I went to an incredible talk several days ago by Yana Van Dyke in the newly renovated Islamic wing of the Met and cannot stop going back (if you can, go to any of her talks!). It's stunning and gorgeous and I love having a new corner of this museum to become intimate with. I also came up against my own ignorance about the field, thinking it's this haven of examining and repairing things. But aside from history and science and technique—oh, the politics. Always, everywhere. Strange to realize that politics could determine how a tapestry is hung or scroll is mounted, but a no-brainer once I thought about it.

Lots of days in my head while getting as close to beauty as possible, and avoiding thunderstorms. I wish I could stay inside, but it's back to work soon enough.

Sometimes you just know

[Correction on this first image's photo credit: it was actually taken by Katie Avery, though all the rest of the artwork photos were taken by Stefan.] One of the nicest voicemails I got while in Cleveland was from a very down-with-the-flu Velma, who had just gotten her issue of Shuttle Spindle & Dyepot. Not only did Judy Dominic write a lovely feature about me, but they also ran a positive book review. I got my copies yesterday and it all looks great! Meanwhile, I'm still sorting through work and scared of the future but am keeping in mind what Tom said over and over during my visit: "Nothing is forever." True! So as anxious as I may be about the move, I also know very clearly that it's the step I want to take. Just last night I was stuck in a vicious cycle of a bad memory and tried to snap myself out of it by looking at rentals in Cleveland. It worked!