I am back from the "Making Marks" workshop with Dorothy Caldwell, which was a success in all respects. I had a lovely time (although I"ll admit to feeling rather like I've been run over by a Mac truck, following two week-long workshops in quite rapid succession), learned a great deal, and feel inspired by both the material and the other artists. In addition, the Arts Space in Annapolis Royal, where the workshop was held, just opened a new show of work by Carol Mahtab. The work is stunning, and with the rare added opportunity to view a large selection of Carol's sketchbooks this is truly a show not to miss. I feel as if the exhibit was planned to dovetail perfectly with our workshop (which it clearly was not) ; this had the effect of making an already information and inspiration packed experience, doubly so. I feel as though my head might conceivably explode. And to top it all off, Dorothy Caldwell is a delight, and it was a privelege to spend the week with her.
We scritched, and scratched, inked and swooshed, punched holes, burned and smoked (my personal favourites), discharged, and practised stitching while wearing blindfolds .... Then we bound it all into a book wrapped in Kantha stitched covers. Oh, and I learned to make string. Thousands of women have been doing this, much more successfully than I, for thousands of years, yet it gave me a huge feeling of accomplishment. Go figure.
No stitching into each others work, but rather intense when you think of doing it all by feel. The string was made from thin strips of fabric ...the Australian aboriginal women taught Dorothy. It works well with finer fabrics, but I rather enjoyed the fuzzy bits caused by the fraying cotton.
Stitching blind.... that sounds really cool. Did you manage not to stitch into each other's work or into each other? Is it as interesting as stitching under the influence of wine? I might prefer the wine version myself. What did you use to make the string?