Awkward Beginning

This is a tough challenge, I'm not sure if I have a grip on it even now.  But an old story came up during a conversation with friends - the first time I met my now-husband, Tom.

Before we met, Tom's reputation as a serious sailor preceded him.  My team decided to recruit him to help us win Spring Regatta.  Tom was on the Yugoslavian National Sailing Team before moving to America.  He had his own racing boat and was described as a ruthless tactician, focused, professional, disciplined, and NOT a fan of shenanigans during a race.

To put it nicely, our team "2 Thirsty" was pretty relaxed on discipline during races.  There was always a lot of chatter and joking around.  At one point we actually had a keg on board.  No way was Tom racing with us like that, so we had to get rid of the keg.

When the race began, it was clear who was calling the shots.  Those of us on the rail were there for weight and not to share our opinions about strategy.  I don't think I said a word the whole time.  I was so nervous that when we crossed the finish and heard the gun, I didn't even realize we had won!

Everyone was yelling and moving around, so I started to relax a bit.  I saw Tom coming over to me, but before I could think he hugged me!  I just froze.  He picked me up with this big smile and said "Wooo hooo! Nice job!"  I almost said "for what?" but I was too shocked to speak.  A second later, he had moved on and was congratulating everyone else on the boat.  Once I saw how much he was able to let go of stress and celebrate a victory, I felt kind of stupid for being afraid of him.

The image I had of him was correct, sort of.  It was only one side of him.  He was totally focused and serious during the race, chasing a goal and making decisions.  But once the goal was reached, he transformed into a fun-loving, smiling, cutie pie.  Hmmm… quite cute, in fact. 

He still kids me about it, teasing me that I tried to jump into the ocean to avoid talking to him.  Not true!  But I admit back then I didn't handle unexpected hugs too well.  I'm better at it now. :-)

Travel preconceptions

The challenge set by Lisa-Marie is just as difficult as any other our group has tackled! Lisa-Marie was very open and honest in talking of her preconception in regard to the driving incident of the past.
I am feeling uncomfortable thinking about preconceptions I've had in the past related to people- how wrong we can sometimes be! I've now adopted the attitude that most people have an interesting story to tell if we have the time to listen.

However I can also relate the preconceptions theme to travel, having just arrived home from 5 weeks in Europe, mainly France and Slovakia.

The Eiffel Tower, such an iconic symbol of Paris and indeed France. It is used to death on t-shirts, posters and a multitude of souvenirs. We waited in line, like other visitors, to reach the second floor for a magnificent view over  Paris. Before we arrived at this level we had imagined sitting with a cup of coffee, quietly relaxing and taking in the view.

How wrong could we get! The atmosphere was one of push and shove to get the view and the café area was very uninviting and unappealing to us. We could not get to the third level, as this was very popular and closed to further visitors for an hour or so.
Instead we chose to go elsewhere for our coffee and had a great lunch too, without the crowds!

Hatsue's Origami Lesson

Back on task, having returned last Saturday night from our 9500 mile/ 61 day trek to the West Coast and back, I am at last ready to post my contribution to our last Challenge.  Gomenasai, for my extreme, two-week tardiness in posting.  All my good intentions went out the window when I discovered that I couldn't get in 'the zone' and create when not in my studio.  That was a surprise to me.

This piece, "Hatsue's Origami Lesson", recalls my teen years living in Japan.  Hatsue-san was our housekeeper.  She kept more than our house.  She kept my Mother from loosing her sanity with four children ages 5-14 in a foreign land and speaking not even rudimentary Japanese.  Shopping.  Buying flowers or soba from the street mongers.  Understanding the neighbor's greetings, differentiating between 'your dog dug up my flowers' from 'it's a nice day today, neh?' Navigating the narrow roads with no understanding of street signs.  Oh, it was a l-o-n-g list.  I can only imagine the tales Hatsue had to tell her husband and teenage daughters when she returned each night.

The first winter we were there one of the things Hatsue decided that we kids would like to learn was origami, Japanese paper folding.  We were very surprised that she could make something very interesting and fairly durable from paper.  Clever woman kept the four of us occupied with a pad of paper whilst my Mother had a quiet moment(s).

Full disclosure here:  the background sashiko stitching was purchased from my friend Sue Ball Faeder while she was vending at the North Star Quilt Exhibit this past Saturday.  It was a mostly completed class sample that I think she'd wearied of and it fit my plan perfectly.

The plan:  I had decided to create a complex background, suggesting Japan, upon which I would appliqué a piece of my hand-dyed fabric, folded into an origami crane.  Sue's sashiko was perfect.

Lastly, I enlarged a print from a 'chop' that had been created for me by Masaru Tanaka, a friend of my son Alan.  Alan has lived in Japan for the last twenty-three years, keeping our family's connection to Japan quite up to date.

Ancient Tradition, Natural Inspiration

Several things influenced my choices for Misik's challenge to recreate traditions in our work.

One was April, which is National Poetry Month.  When I taught school, we always did a project combining visual art with poetry, which compliment each other in a beautiful way.

Another was my place of birth, Japan, which has long revered the poetic form of haiku, very often inspired by the seasons and the natural world.

 I chose to celebrate these tiny poppies, which come back year after year in the early spring.  Here in New Mexico the weather changes radically from one day to the next, with freezing winds and unpredictable storms being the norm.
There is a patch of sidewalk I pass every day while walking the dogs where the flowers sprout anew every year between the cracks.  Every year, I collect a seed pod or two and scatter the seeds in my actual garden, where they never grow.  It seems they need adversity to thrive, which heartens me as I face setbacks in my own life.

 The title of this work is Haiku- a little poem I wrote about these flowers:

Shaped by bitter wind,

They bow but will never break

Returning always.

The background is a painting on silk accentuated with paint sticks.

The flowers themselves are made from humble dryer sheets, which, with their used, transparent quality, I felt were a good medium for the delicate, yet amazingly tough little poppies.

Preconceptions

When I first moved to Florida, I drove a rust-bucket Jeep Cherokee I affectionally called: The Heap. I loved that car so much I wasn't even bothered that the A/C didn't work. Sure it's hot in Florida, but that's what car windows are for, right? One day I came up to a busy intersection with shops on four sides and multiple turn lanes in all directions. I had a choice to stop short of the car in front of me and leave a space for oncoming traffic to turn left, or I could squeeze up tight and block their path.

I chose to stop and leave the path open; far be it from me to create a worse log-jam at an already convoluted intersection. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a huge, black Mercedes illegally crossed three lanes to jump in front of me.  I couldn't believe it! How arrogant! He blocked the space where others could turn left, just to jump ahead in line. Why couldn't the driver wait (like me) until the light changed?

Who was he? Just because he drove an expensive car didn't give him the right to violate traffic rules. I guess he thought he was better than I...or at least my car. Well, I figured I'd show him. The Heap might've been ugly, but it had a fine, big engine and it loved to go fast. When the light changed and we both turned left on the highway headed back to the barrier island, I gunned the engine and sped around him.

Yeh, definitely not my finest moment, but it is what I did. We raced onward, one darting in front of the other, changing lanes and trying to move ahead. I was determined to stay in the lead and block him from cutting in front of me again. I'd show him!
Suddenly, he burst through an opening in traffic, swung around my right and immediately cut in front of me across three lanes into a left turn lane...into the hospital.

Uuunnnggghhhh! What had I done?! Was he a doctor, called for emergency surgery? A family member, summoned unexpectedly to the bedside of a loved one? A husband whose wife just went into labor?

There are no words to describe how I felt. My actions were based on incorrect assumptions. I had a preconception about a driver and his behavior. I had personally observed the facts but I didn't have the complete context. Consequently, my conclusions were wrong. How many times had I done that?!

A less dramatic example was my preconception about Sea Salt Caramel ice cream. My friend showed me the container and said "This stuff is addictive! It is so good, you can't resist!" I wrinkled my face and made some remark about the twisted mind who had ever put salt on caramel, and assured my friend that I wouldn't like it. Well, I am literally eating my words!

Do not try this ice cream unless you are prepared to be addicted! Preconceptions aside, salt and caramel work together like the A-Team. It is so good, I have to eat it with an espresso spoon to make it last longer! True confessions.

So, have you ever had a situation about which you formed an opinion that was later disproved? Maybe you were dreading a get-together and it ended up being the best time of your life. Or you were certain you wouldn't like an item on the menu but were surprised when you had a taste. What was it like? How did it feel? I invite you to consider one of your past preconceptions and depict your experience in an art quilt.

The orientation for this piece is landscape:  24" W by 18" H.

Warm Love

by Lin Hsin-Chen

Thank you, Misik, for giving us this meaningful challenge. By this challenge, Image from Tradition, I got the chance to take a look at the vanishing culture of Taiwanese Aborigines. Then, as I tried to explore the definition of “tradition”, an image that has existed in my life for 25 years rose before my eyes. I decided to use the image for my quilt and share the story with everyone.

Admittedly, every contemporary culture will become ancient traditional images in another generation. New culture that has been influenced by traditional culture must be recorded. The red sweater that my mom gave me not only gives me warmth but also appeases my negative emotions. The power of it is as beautiful as flowers. The sweater is worn out and now it becomes part of my quilt. I would like to dedicate this quilt to my mom and thanks for her love and support. Happy mothers day and stay healthy to mothers around the world!

Marriage is a tradition itself. It’s also the hardest challenge in my life. My mom was definitely worried and anxious about my new life. She bought me some clothes, so that at least she could make sure that I wouldn’t feel too cold. One of them was a red sweater, which was just like an angel to me, and it “escorted” me through my “hard times”.

In Taiwan, following the tradition is the most basic obligation for a married woman to obey. I was assigned to prepare for traditional ceremonies and 3 meals a day for the entire family of 30 people or more during Chinese New Year (usually for 10 days). During the 10 days, no one else could help me. I had to do all the preparing and cooking by myself. I was pregnant, but it wasn’t an excuse to escape.

I didn’t have any cooking experience at my maiden home, not to mention housekeeping. The traditional value was just like a monster, and it made me wanted to run away. Beside the household chores, I had to try to get along with my husband’s family and adjust myself to the new living environment. All the things just came to me at the same time, and I was extremely struggle with them. I used to cry a lot and feeling helpless like a melancholic.

It was a cold winter, so I wore the red sweater that my mom gave me. Magically, the red sweater not only gave me warmth, but also brought me joy and luck. I started to look at the bright side of life and learned to do those things step by step. The interpersonal relationship was the first problem that I overcame. After that, life seems become easier gradually.

Techniques: hand pieced, hand quilted, yoyo

Materials: sweater, mono printed cotton, commercial cotton, beads, paillette

From old fabrics

by Misik Kim

It was a great pleasure to read the posts you wrote for me.

This opportunity was a chance for me to think about the tradition  again

 old methods, old fabrics.....

I was thinking about the reinterpretation of thetradition and to use it to my work.

I used  Mosi (Korean linen) and silk organza in 

my work.  All fabric is from used Hanbok (korean dress).

Thanks for all of you.