Friday, October 23, 2015

Charcoal and Celestial Bodies the muse for capsule apparel collection by the Artemisian



 Under the heavy weight of the pad of my forefinger the twig charcoal crushes into dust and is pushed across the page. Powdery black holes and linear elements opposing each other. It was always this texture that drew me back to drawing, between inking copper etching plates and raising ground to create resists. From the acid baths waiting I would turn back again to the charcoal drawings, my hands sooty and above my eyebrows from the occasional sweeping of hair away from my face I sit for hours hunched over a rudimentary workhorse supported old door as a table, coffee at my side in a pair of worn and ripped jeans that call to mind a blackened Cajun barbecue for how often my hands found there way to rubbing off the excess black down the side of my thigh.
 Art has always been about process to me, the journey. I heavily criticize my final product always but by the time its done my engagement with the piece is over, my love and hate and passion is poured completely into the process of the making, in this way I can float between mediums with equal attention.
 Color has never interested me as much as the depths of black it does therefore seem fitting that our musings with a limited edition clothing collection should be in tones of black. Inky midnight blue black to deep charcoal and an almost chalkboard smoky black, the palette, one matte one sumptiously soft, the other with a razor sharp sheen due to the fine woven of the wool. Texture is what differentiates blacks, This capsule collection is a limited series as have always been my accessories, prints and drawings. These pieces are not for mass consumption but are to be savored, cherished and handed down. As such the fabric and production are numbered and tagged this way 1of 50, 2 of 50 and so forth and so on.
  I met an Indian woman guided to me by a dear friend who had a culturally specific skill of silk knotting embroidery. She brought into my studio one day a gilted fabric woven threads of gold and embroidered silk knots. Her skill was filed away, until just now as I sit hunched over once again dreaming and drawing of inky suits, frayed threads, asymmetrical lines and french blue embroidered silk knots.