It was All There Before Her
My first taste of artistic practice was in the world of photography. To be precise, the world of black and white, self-developed, mostly square, 120 film photography.
When I was living in Brooklyn, my father gifted me an analog camera after switching to the digital world. It wasn’t just any camera- it was his pride and joy, the camera he bought in Germany when my parents got married- a commemorative edition Leicaflex from the 1972 Munich Olympics. When I was a kid, I considered this camera to be my untouchable little brother- it was always around and got almost as much attention as I did.
As an only child, I finally appreciated the benefits of having a little brother as this camera became my constant companion in the streets of New York City. I started taking darkroom classes, self-developing roll after roll of film (it was actually cheap back then) and switching over to even older cameras or (my favorite) flipped lens toy cameras. I would often have three different cameras in my backpack as I took long walks after work, capturing the lines and shadows of NYC.
This camera was also my gateway to my first taste of creative community. Back then, Flickr was the online home for photographers, and specifically, I found a lovely group of like-minded analog, self-developed film enthusiasts. There was one in particular whose poetic way of looking at and capturing the world caused me to fall in love with him- despite having no clue if he was old or young, married or not married. Luckily, he turned out to be exactly the perfect match for me, and I ended up marrying my favorite artist and moving across an ocean to start a life with him.
It was that move to the countryside, and the loss of my New York lines and shadows, that meant my cameras eventually started gathering dust. But it also led me to the textile world as the perfect fit for my new embrace of motherhood and rural living.
Lately, I’ve been curious if it’d be possible for me to merge these two creative lives and mediums, so I decided to have one of my old 120 film photographs printed onto fabric to try.
This image has always had a special place in my heart- the lines, the diagonals, the simplicity, and this sense of a woman on an adventure with so many possibilities before her- I knew if I was starting this experiment, it would have to start with her.
Of course, I couldn’t resist starting by adding text to help wonder about this woman’s story: Where is she going? Where has she been? Who has she met along the way? Who has walked beside her? Who does she have yet to meet?
She also holds a secret. When held to the light, you can see a whole colorful world at her feet.
This quilt tells her story (my story?) and reveals the wonder at what might open up in the wide horizons beyond our immediate skylines.
I am still very unsure as to how to merge these two worlds- how much to stay true to the original photograph, how much extra needs to be added… These are all ongoing questions.
I guess the only thing to do is keep going. 💙