… to the ridiculous. After the relatively large scale of the Friendship Cloth, I found this while searching through some boxes of treasure:
This is the smallest patchwork I’ve ever done: 49 quarter-inch squares, hand-pieced, made into a cushion for my one-twelfth scale doll’s house many years ago. And this:
Crocheted with cotton sewing thread and a minute crochet hook, also many years ago. Finding these little treasures reminds me that I like detail. I like to zoom in on a small area of something. As a child I spent many happy hours with a microscope, and I enjoyed the garden most on my hands and knees examining tiny areas of plants in detail. This is a useful thing to know. Some artists produce vast panoramic landscapes or abstract works on a huge and impressive scale, and I very much admire this – I’m thinking in particular of Rothko – but I also understand that’s not me. It’s taken many years to realise that that’s OK. I can’t do everything, and it’s usually a bad idea to try to be something other than yourself. It’s not so much the scale (or size) of the work that matters, it’s more the scale or size of the subject that is important.
Thank you very much for all your comments about the Friendship Cloth. As Grace suggests, I’ll make an effort to take it to a place where it can be photographed in its entirety. It will be good for it to go outside somewhere in any case, to get a bit of sunlight and wind through it, and maybe even a little bit of rain. The cloth will rememember what it felt like to be a living plant outside in the air. I must add, of course, that the cloth is not finished. It is bound, and initially complete, but there is much more to come: applique, stitch, precious fragments of cloth, elements of story – all waiting to be discovered.
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