On Art, Attention, and the Creative Life

Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about attention; how easily it gets flattened into utility, productivity, scrolling, documenting, and answering. I’ve been reclaiming some quieter forms of noticing through materials, through image-making, and through walking slowly enough to actually see where I am.

These are some recent observations, experiments, studio fragments, and small moments that reminded me why living a creative life matters to me.

The studio is alive

Corner of my textile studio on a recent rainy afternoon

Not finished, not fully organized, not entirely resolved, but alive. There are stacks of fabric, woven samples pinned to walls, books open to pages I want to revisit, bits of cord and paper and thread migrating across surfaces faster than I can contain them—I’m aiming for zero waste, or as close to it as possible, which equates to a lot of material accumulation. A lot.

It already feels less like a workspace and more like an ecosystem. Exciting projects are in the works over at 58×80.com. I’ll share more soon.

Momigami + Exploration

I’ve been spending time experimenting with momigami, letting materials wrinkle, soften, collapse, and transform instead of trying to control them too tightly.

There’s freedom in allowing paper to behave like cloth and cloth to behave imperfectly.

Working with vintage flash cards and konjac starch

Each card takes about an hour to process

The result is a cloth-like softening of the paper fibers

1960s Chagall lithograph processed through momigami

Toy Camera

I recently picked up a small Chuzhao toy camera, partly as a way to reconnect with image-making outside the utility of my phone. I wanted something that encouraged observation instead of consumption.

Unexpectedly, it’s also changed the way people interact with me.

One an Easter weekend visit to Cleveland, another photographer noticed the camera and stopped to ask about it. We ended up trading portraits with each other’s cameras, something I’m fairly certain would never have happened if I’d simply raised an iPhone. The camera became less of a device and more of an invitation.

Little Italy window display. Cleveland, Ohio

Stranger with a camera, on the lake. Cleveland, Ohio

Handmade Journal

I made this journal imperfectly on purpose.

As someone recovering from creative perfectionism, I’ve realized pristine blank journals sometimes feel more intimidating than inspiring. This one has uneven binding and stitching, intentional mistakes, and visible decisions throughout. I made it from materials on hand, including Crane’s 100% cotton paper, the box cover as book board, and marine vinyl scraps leftover from projects for my upcoming collection.

Single needle binding with waxed red thread

Vinyl cover for material visibility, and to hold my trusty Sakura Pigma Micron 10 in place

Band Weaving

My first love in weaving and my favorite still, by far.

I recently wove a passementerie-style band to accompany a piece by local artist Worth Rawson, whose work I admire and enjoy. I love the conversation that can happen between materials made by different hands.

Wool, cotton, and metallic yarns in flat and tubular weave wrap the bowl like a contained eruption or crater, created to respond to the vessel’s volcanic, otherworldly quality with something playful and slightly unruly.

Snapshot of a wider, warp-based “tapestry” in progress using both supplementary weft and an experimental (at least for me) warp inlay techique.

Weaving in the Wild

A weaving I stumbled upon at the local library.

There are several exciting projects, studio developments, and local events unfolding right now that I’ll be sharing here soon. For now, this feels like an honest snapshot of where my creative life currently is: exploratory, imperfect, material-driven, and increasingly rooted in attention.

A Few Recent Things