invisible mending and a sense of the hearth

I've been musing about invisible mending; the skill it takes to leave no trace.
And the extraordinary grit of one invisible mender I know; her vivid life.
Then I came across this 'web'site:

http:/www.ninakatchadourian.com/uninvitedcollaborations/spiderwebs

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Mended Spiderweb #14 (Spoon Patch)
Cibachrome, 20 x 30 inches, 1998

Nina Katchadourian

Using differently coloured thread is what textile conservators sometimes do, to differentiate their own interventions from the historic stitching. Personally I'm not surprised Arachne disposed of the red thread and left it in little piles under the trees.What an imposition!

Every rug I make brings a sense of hearth to my home that has no fireplace.
A sense of coming home, where thoughts are quickened by my hands'
complete distractedness. I'm braiding the edge of the rug now. It's off the frame
at last and I'm working with it on my lap. It's good to be holding it in my hands at last.
A final intimacy before it's relegated to the floor.

new rug almost ready to be released from the frame







 

 

It's exciting working from alternate sides of the rug frame and critiquing your design from different viewpoints. I find this way of working becomes almost compulsive as I near the completion of a rug. A rug maker labours over a design that will ultimately be stepped on and walked over. This potentially humbling fact, can charge the design with a vitality that puts a veritable spring in the step (particularly if it's the tread of a bare foot). The rug, released from the frame and viewed from the biped's changing perspective, begins to gain a new energy...  









seen from the reverse







orange getting zesty in the artificial light!

It's interesting working in the evening's artificial light and seeing colours change and vibrate. Viewing the rug again in the morning light, I try to discern it's 'true colours'. But which are its true colours? I'm not sure. For hearth rugs, associated as they are with the embers of the day, seem best appreciated by flickering firelight. I'm not in the slightest bit tempted to use daylight bulbs. I think of rug makers in the 1930s, working by gas light. In keeping with the seasonal tradition of starting a new rug after harvesting, and completing it in time for Christmas, this rug was begun in a timely fashion. But, I'm way ahead of myself! It'll be finished before November (looking forward to the hanseling ceremony 'tho).