Sister Project

Candle holder, pencil on sketch paper. ©Krista Simurdak

Right wing primary feather, pencil, watercolor, gouache, and Sakura Pegma pen on previously painted Strathmore Mixed Media paper. ©Lisa M. Harkins

Another week of healing.  Krista says, “I was thinking about how I was having a good time doing the drawing, music loud, when 2 weeks ago I was sad and depressed. Acceptance does come from starting new things. Weird, I wouldn’t be drawing at all if I hadn’t been so sad and had to make changes. It’s about turning the moment around.”

I find it interesting how our choices of subject matter seem to reflect who we are.  Krista lives in the West Bottoms of Kansas City, MO – a wonderful environment of tumble-down industrial buildings and architecture piled up to the horizon.  In her art and photography, she favors architectural and sharp forms, and she has an abstract style.  In contrast, I live on Whidbey Island in the Pacific Northwest, and I tend to lean towards natural and organic forms in my art and textile work.  I think next week, I will choose something outside of my comfort zone.

Oddly, having this deal with my sister seems to have made it easier to focus on my own work.  I’m still raising a family, and I still find a million reasons to procrastinate and not be in my studio.  These little drawings, just before a weekend, make me anxious to keep going.  I did not expect that side effect.

Moving Forward

Yesterday marked the 2-month mark since my brother died suddenly of cardiac arrest from an undiscovered arrhythmia.  Last Friday, my sister called.

“How are you doing,” I said.

“Well, it’s Friday.  I come home, I make a cocktail, and I call Stu.”

“Wow, you need to find something else to do on Fridays to take your mind off that.”

One piece of advice we’ve given and received over this unreal event is that a person must make new traditions in order to move on.  My sister-in-law can’t knock about in her empty house doing all of the things THEY used to do.  Change the furniture around, change your morning routine, try to do things that will not be a reminder and suck you down into depression.

So, here’s our new tradition.  My sister resolved to come home on Fridays, make a cocktail, and draw something.

Candles on the dining room table. Pencil on sketch paper.©Krista Simurdak

In support, and because I need to do different things too, I promised to do the same.  I have to say, it’s rather nice.  You can’t really get around the fact that Stu comes to mind because he is the reason we are doing this, but for that few hours, my sister and I are thinking of each other, and that’s a comfort.  It’s a connection that is a pale shadow of the benefits of each other’s company, but I think it will serve.

Sea urchin test. Pencil, colored pencil, and Sakura Pigma pen on previously painted page of a Strathmore visual journal. ©Lisa M Harkins

The object I picked brought up some interesting thoughts.  People often turn to the sea for comfort in times of sorrow.  Its boundless energy and broad space are accompanied by a white noise that helps clear the mind.  I live on an island, where the Salish Sea brings many unexpected things to our beaches.  As I worked, I reflected upon how a living thing, or person, can be called to mind from something left behind.

We miss you, Stu.  We hope our rusty drawing skills make you smile.

Block of the Month

Who knew what possessed me?

I joined the local quilt guild for the monthly joy of communing with three of my dear friends.  And let’s face it, sometimes, I really enjoy working on something traditional to give myself a rest from constantly designing and making new work.  All those decisions wear a person out.

But somehow, I’ve ended up in charge of the Block of the Month.  I just couldn’t seem to keep my hand from shooting in the air when they asked for a volunteer, and I don’t even really piece that well (as you all well know).  Still, it’s been a joy to go through my grandma’s quilting books.  She bought them in the 40s, and gave them to me in the 80s.  When I learned to quilt, I learned old-school – tracing around a template for each piece, hand-sewing them together, quilting by hand.  Some of those traditional blocks seemed so complicated, and it would take a lifetime to make some of those tops by hand.  Now, it’s a fun exercise to re-draft some of them with the knowledge of strip piecing to help.  For my first contribution to the club, I chose one of my favorites – Cupid’s Arrow Point.

My favorite traditional quilt blocks are those that seem plain alone, but make beautiful patterns when you sew them to each other.  This block makes a gorgeous quilt with lovely feathered squares and nice, white blocks just begging for a quilted medallion.  If you would like the instructions I wrote, here they are.  I personally believe that one should not be able to copyright a traditional quilt pattern, but if you share my instructions, some credit would be nice.

I’m looking forward to working through my grandma’s blocks while I am on this adventure.  And who knows, maybe my piecing will get better!