I was fortunate to receive the McClure-Scanlin Residency Award at Lillian E. Smith Center this year. I’ve been here almost two weeks now and I’ve greatly enjoyed my time in the woods of northern Georgia. I came here to work on designs for a new body of work. I am reminded over the course of these weeks how slow that process is for me. But having a place like this to jump-start the ideas is highly useful.
At past residencies I’ve brought boxes of stuff: lots of art supplies, as many yarn color choices as I could cram into any corner of my luggage, and lots of ideas about what I wanted to make while I was there. This time around, I didn’t bring much with me: a watercolor set, some fleece and a flick carder, two spindles, two very small looms, and a small selection of weaversbazaar yarn. And of course I brought my walking shoes, a camera, and my design sketchbook. Even the ideas I brought were sketchy. But perhaps they’re starting to come together a little bit after mulling them over for two weeks.
Living in a treehouse
If you were following me during my Hambidge residency (HERE and HERE), you’ll know that I felt like I was living in a treehouse. I feel the same way here. this cabin, like the one at Hambidge, has windows along one side of the building. That side of the cabin is built up as the land slopes away and that leaves me looking out at tree trunks and barely through the foliage, the top of Screamer Mountain. The leaves are changing here. In the two weeks I’ve been here, the change has seemed very gradual. Other places I’ve been to watch the foliage, it can be over and done in a few days. Peak color in Colorado can go from huge mountain sides blazing yellow with aspens changing to all the leaves on the ground in just a couple days. But things definitely seem to move more slowly here. And that has been fun to see. I love the rusty reds and mustard yellows mixed with pine tree green and yellow-green of leaves just starting to change..
Watching the light
I will say that though I find the woods of the southeastern US a fascinating place, it is very different from my normal inspiration. I’m from the southwest and the huge skies, horizon, and deep, often bright, colors inform my designs in more ways than I normally realize. I did a residency just up the road at Hambidge in 2017 and had a similar experience. The first difference I notice in these places when I sit still and observe is that the light is very different here. Sunrise and sunset come and go softly. In the west there is a moment the sun sets and you know when it is. Here if you’re not at the top of a hill with a view of other ridges, the sun may just disappear without any particular moment where you think that it is setting and before you realize it, you’ve slid right into darkness. The trees and the lower elevation and the water in the air all serve to mute the coming and going of the light. That different sort of experience is good for me. It teaches me to watch carefully to understand new experiences.
The things I found in the woods
I have not, thus far, found any ticks or copperheads (though I have watched carefully for both). I have found these things.
Overcoming disappointment in myself
I had some moments this last week here when I just felt tempted to dump on myself about my “lack of progress” while here. But the truth is that I have had great experiences which are already informing my work in both teaching and art-making. I learned about trees and forests. I searched for and found amazing fungus and watched them grow and change a lot over two weeks of varied weather. I spent two marvelous days with tapestry weavers that inspire me—both learning from them and interviewing them for an upcoming online class.* And though this wasn’t planned, I did have to spend some days working on my book. The original timeline had these edits finished long before I came to this residency, but a delay due to the photoshoot and my own fatigue, and then another from the copyeditor pushed the next round of edits right into my time here. Instead of resenting this time away from my art supplies, I decided that I could use the woods out my window to energize this important round of editing. I’m proud of this book and I want it to be an excellent reference for tapestry weavers for decades to come. That means I can’t give up so close to the end.**
Also, hugging trees helps a lot.
Have you done an artist residency? What were your experiences? Leave a comment below.
I’ll have more details about this experience next week.
*With huge thanks to Tommye Scanlin and Connie Lippert! You’ve both taught me so much about work, art, and inspiration. And now you’ll teach my students also. These interviews will be part of the Design Solutions course coming in January 2020.
**Yes, I can write that when I’m full of energy first thing in the morning. I might be crabby about it at 8 pm when I haven’t been able to finish the experimental weaving I wanted to do today. That’s life, right? We try again another day.