Feeling Rusty

I've been feeling very rusty in this little ol' art practice (or not practice, as the case may be) of mine. Figuratively rusty because:

1. I'm working in new (to me) media
2. I'm creating imagery rather than recording on film what already exists in reality
3. I'm learning to think in 3-D
4. I'm at the mercy of my learning curve for:
•   Acquiring the necessary dexterity and craftsmanship skills for textile work
•   Figuring out how different physical materials behave and won't behave
•   Considering how 3-D objects will inhabit a space (dangling from ceiling, protruding from wall, sitting on a pedestal, etc)
5. I'm creating my own visual and symbolic language 

And that's just the list I've pulled off the top of my head in this moment. I'm sure there's more. Of course there's more.

I'm mentioning these things because I've been beating myself up for not producing mounds of work, not producing exhibit worthy work, not spending every free moment in the studio working. I know I'm not the only one who gets down on myself for these things. But. It's just plain silly and counterproductive to beat up on oneself. For me, it stymies my creativity rather than open it up. I've been reading this advice from Sol LeWitt to Eva Hesse over and over again lately as a reminder to get out of my head and just do something, make something, anything. To cultivate and ride the momentum generated by simply doing.

So. A shift. I took feeling metaphorically rusty and turned it literal. I pulled out my collection of rusty shit and dyed tiny torn strips of muslin. (Am I the only one who sees these fabric strips as slabs of marbled bacon? The iron stains as muscle, the white fabric as the fat.)

I dye with rust/iron specifically because it's the iron in our hemoglobin that causes brown and rusty  blood stains. With my rusty fabrics and threads, I hope to suggest associations with blood. Regardless, I need a few more strips of rusty fabric to finish an experimental pod thingie that has been languishing for months. I worked on it for the first time in ages while over at a friend's house last week for a craft night date. Thank you Adrienne! Riding the momentum generated by those few hours of stitching carried over into more dyeing...

I even love the threads that shed from the frayed edges of the torn strips.

When these babies dry, some are destined to finish this pod experiment. What's it for? What's its destiny? Not a clue. And that's OK. It's teaching me things I need to know.