Grief

Months ago an image caught my eye: one man consoling another after a bombing. I have worked and reworked it in my sketch book:


I been pondering about how (and why, and whether) to translate the drawing to fabric. Fabric is not the best medium for the human form. In my heart I think I would start with a huge canvas, and then collage and paint. But in my tiny studio that is not an option.

This weekend I figured why not? and started out on an old piece of linen. The first draft had a nice simplicity to it, sort of a haiku. I especially like the hand:


In my head, though, drawing teachers kept telling me to SAY what I MEAN. I took a deep breath and plunged in with color, in search of depth. Light blue, greens, red, even pink. Then the air around the figures needed life too: more space, and a bit more color. Now it is done, and awaits a context: a dark frame of hand-dyed fabric, I think: