one slow stitch at a time...

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untitled (i want to hold your face in my hands)
filet crochet curtain
angela simione, 2014




i need a much taller window.  :)

the full text reads: i want to hold your face in my hands but you go on backing away away away.  the text is from a poem i wrote over a year ago that will probably never see the light of day, save for this excerpt.  and i like that...  the secrecy of it...  which is very much what this work is about. i like the idea of hanging my secrets in the window, allowing the light of day to use the twists and turns of my private thoughts (and the hook that has given them shape) to make shadows sigh and heave on the adjacent wall.  i like the tease of it.

this piece taught me a lot.  it's still teaching me.  not merely about the method of production and where i failed and where i succeeded in using it, but also how i want to use light and shadow as materials themselves...  transparency...  absence and presence.  in this regard, this method is very much like drawing.  the emptiness of the page is just as important as the mark.  it's poetry.  the things that aren't said add weight to what is.

it's hung up in the window of my bed and i stare at it for a little while every day.  i finished it over a week ago and i'm still so bowled over by it.  it's a new "first step".


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i loved every second

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confession #1
filet crochet banner
angela simione, 2014

in the wee hours of christmas eve...

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one slow stitch at a time.


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one pencil scratch at a time

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getting there.

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just the beginning

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over a year in production, The Blanket of DOOM is finally finished.   mostly.  a few small tweaks here and there, a few loose yarn ends to be woven in to the grain of stitches, and a ton of photographs to take before i can legitimately refer to this project as Done.  in fact, it could be quite some time before i see the end of this particular piece.  the photo up top signals what i envision for The Blanket: a life prior to finding itself on display in a gallery.  we'll see where we end up together.  :)

but it is a happy moment to see her in all her good glory.  so many long hours and evening spent hooking away at this piece.  it is an expression of dedication and faith that, even if imperfect, the idea was a good one and to chase it to the end.  there were plenty of times at the very beginning of this massive undertaking that i wanted to give up, unravel the entire thing, and focus on smaller projects.  there were plenty of weeks when i didn't touch her at all.  couldn't.  even hated the idea of working on her.  there were plenty of times when i dreaded the work that needed to be done.  it seemed so endless.  impossible. 

when i finally reached the half-way mark, my hope and strength returned and i felt committed to seeing the project through to the end regardless of how it turned out.  i no longer needed it to be any good and i just wanted to make the blanket for me.  i began to see it as a landscape...  a road...  a way to learn something deeper about who i am and the type of artist and human i want to be.  a poem to wrap myself in.

Lea had said to me once, "your work is so devotional."  her voice came back to me so many times while i worked on The Blanket.  what is Devotion?  what is it to devote oneself to something?  what does it require?  it comes down to an unspeakable trust.  i trust my work with all that i am and all that i've got.  i entrusted my entire life and self to it a long time ago and haven't questioned it since.  my road through this world might very well be different from others but it is a good one and my work has proven itself to be the very best map and guide.

the picture of me laying on top of the Blanket of DOOM was taken this morning in my kitchen.  she takes up the entire floor.   i'm 5'6".  each letter in DIE is taller than i am.   but the work has always been, and always will be, bigger than me and that has nothing to do with physical scale.  :)

 

so happy i could DIE

crochet

kingsize blanket

angela simione, 2013

plodding along

the painting i'm working on is kicking my ass all over the place! yesterday and today.

the rain is coming down HARD and so i am locked inside, no jog, forced to sit and stare and figure this piece out. so that's a positive, i guess. the grind, the fight, learning how to slow down and not jump ahead, not rely on tricks, just sit with the work and wait for it to start talking back. and the really good thing about this is that it supplies a learning curve- all this exploration leads to depth and layers of meaning (as well as paint). and the further i go, the deeper i get. the work has really started taking off this year, and i try to keep sight of that fact on days like today where i'm fighting for sense and finesse. in some ways, i've gone full circle to where i was when i was first working with jon benet's image and thinking about what images can do, how paintings can function. it's a crazy ride. some days, all i can do is hang on. some days, "the work" is somehow finding a way to extend a bit of patience to yourself.

sneak peek

66" x 30"

this is only 1/3rd of what the finished size of this piece will end up being. the finished size will be 66" x 90"... maybe more. WALL SIZE! dang!

work...

cold and cold and cold,
i went on a cleaning spree.
there is carrot cake and secrecy tonight.
there is clean and cleaned and cleansed.

__________


about a year ago i started writing a memoir-ish thing and have picked it back up this week. it's much easier now than it was when i started it but still quite hard. it's strange going back in time like this and some things are still too early to try to write down. but it's a good project- one without the limits of time or due date or genre. it's a mish-mash of things but i don't think i'll add any pictures. it is a text, solely. i want no other art-form clouding it. it is its own painting... or will be, i hope. i want it to stand on its own. one day. but for the time being, it keeps its own schedule. i make no demands of it. i wait for it to spring up and shout for attention. i bend to its will, not the other way around. for all i know, it'll never be finished. all i can do is work on it as i'm able. this week has been good in that respect but next week could be an entirely different prospect. memoir-ish things are tricky that way, i suppose. and it's best not to rush such a thing anyhow.

sigh...

oh, long day, long day. but good. slowly, slowly the next lineage canvas is moving forward and is already so pleasing and sad and beautiful. i learned the big lesson to proceed at the pace the painting sets and not to impose my own anxiety-fueled timeline during the last few canvasses. slowly, slowly i am learning patience. it is a valuable asset, for sure.

i'm also busy putting together birthday care packages and having a ton of fun doing it. it's work that is light and happy in spite of all the black paint involved. ha! i'm excited to get them finished and mailed off. i'm excited to give the work new, loving homes. i'm happy that there is endless room for kindness in the world and plan to roll around in those wide fields as often as i can. and i am especially happy that i've managed to meet people whose love for art is a big and open as my own. there's a camaraderie and soft love and gentleness in those relationships. a deep bond and a child-like reverence for curious, beautiful things... when cartwheels were turned and dandelions were blown and wishing on stars was expected and cherished and not to be over-looked... when day-dreaming was sacred and fun and the form of poetry we loved best... friendships based in discovery and mutual admiration and honesty and a fearlessness when it comes to compliments, truth-telling, and showing appreciation.

i know i say it a lot but that's because it's true: i am a lucky, lucky girl.

and so it goes...

for the passed week i've been living inside this painting. i've been in it. and after taking a jog this morning, i realized it's time to step back. i'm too close to it to make any real judgement about what it is and is not doing- how it functions and what it needs. well, right now, today, i think it needs some breathing room. for however anxious i am to give it the title of 'done', i'm more concerned with being respectful of the process and giving each work the time it needs to whisper its wants to me. i've been on 10 hour days for a week and that should be more than enough to make me feel proud of myself. besides, it'd do me some good to get out of the house too. i need to track down a good pair of running shoes. this entire time, i've been doing The Jog in my trusty, old pair of hot pink converse. no good. and one of my ankles is beginning to feel a bit fucked up. just the excuse i need to walk away from the painting for a couple hours: shopping. :)