From the Compost Heap header. A pencil style illustration of a compost heap with flowers and plants growing around it. A bee buzzes by and a white rabbit hops by.
  • Tenterhooks

    Sometime in the months after Davy was born I found myself saying I was “on tenterhooks” and realizing I had no idea what it meant.

    Photograph of dictionary entry for tenterhook: a sharp hooked nail used for fastening cloth on a tenter - on tenterhooks. In suspense, or under a distressing strain.

    A tenter is a frame with wicked looking tenterhooks that stretch cloth taut to make it flat.

    Black and white photograph of figures removing a large swathe of white cloth from a wooden frame with tenterhooks
    Black and white photograph of the same frame with fabric attached to half of it.

    Once I learned I knew it had to be a metaphor for a piece of art.

    Suddenly the word was more accurate than ever with a new visceral understanding of what it meant.

    Closeup photography of a wooden frame with wickedly sharp hooks piercing light brown cloth

    This work is done indoors now, but you can still see holes like this on some bolts of cloth.

    Closeup of the edge of a yellow cloth with holes from tenterhooks clearly visible

    Feeling curious? Tap here to read more.


    Image Sources

    Webster’s Collegiate Dictionary Fifth Edition, 1945

    Witney Blanket Story

    Wiki Commons

    Eleanor Pritchard

    Read more: Tenterhooks
  • Papaya Leaves

    A hyper focus project

    Sometimes I give the idea that I am “very organized” and have things “all planned out.”

    Reader, I do not.

    In fact, since becoming a parent I have very little structure and planning in my life at all. But what I do have is hyper focus. And I surf it like a wave whenever it comes for me.

    Act 1

    A neglected compost heap.

    I had big plans for a garden this year. I made a calendar with what to plant each month.

    There would be squash.

    There would be pumpkins.

    There was not squash or pumpkins.

    We made it to radishes before my back pain flared up and the whole garden (including the compost heap) was ignored for roughly 8 months.

    Act 2

    Enter Papaya Stage Left.

    Polaroid style photo of compost heap made of wooden pallets. Giant papaya leaves grow out of the top and a flowering tomato plant peeks out of the side.

    September 27th

    When I started paying attention again there was a giant papaya plant (tree… a baby tree y’all) and burgeoning cherry tomatoes taking over the compost heap.

    I learned it was a papaya plant with this cool identify plant feature iPhones have now. I double checked on Google and surely enough it was a match. The leaves are massive, but if we lived in a tropical climate they would get even bigger.

    A child's hands hold a giant papaya leaf the size of a dinner plate

    I immediately fell in love and knew I had to make art with these.

    I wanted to preserve as many as possible before the frost comes in and ruins all the lovely leaves.

    (I live in Arkansas so it won’t survive winter, but I’m holding out the smallest hope it might regrow from the root next year.)

    October 3rd

    I tried to press leaves in the largest book I own, but the edges stuck and out and eventually crumpled up.

    Giant Cosmos book clamped shut with my hand for scale. Edges of the papaya leaf peek out the edge.

    October 11th

    I asked Nathan to cut some plywood to make a massive flower press.

    October 12th

    I layered cardboard and leaves between two plywood sheets and put two heavy boxes of tubs filled with notebooks (which we pulled out of the attic for another project.)

    Giant papaya leaf with my hand for scale. It is the size of the back of a jacket.

    Hand for scale.

    This is one of the biggest leaves so far.

    Like I said, it’s trying to become a tree.

    Act 3

    Making it work.

    I had 3 mediums in mind for the leaves:

    1. Press the leaves to make imprinted pottery over winter.
    2. Ink the leaves and make monoprints on paper.
    3. Print the leaves onto clothing with fabric paint.

    I may get to monoprints, but I started with clothing using a bottle of fabric paint I had on hand.

    Results were varied, but I learned a lot about the materials.

    White test print of a smaller papaya leaf on a brown pillowcase
    White test print of a smaller papaya leaf on the back of a pair of green overalls.

    I started on a pillowcase and then moved to printing olive green overalls.

    This isn’t a DIY post, but I did learn that the best way to apply paint was a large flat brush and that you have to work quickly and thickly (but not too thick) so the paint doesn’t dry before the transfer. It’s also not the most washable technique. It will continue distressing with each wash so I will likely wash as needed using the gentle cycle.

    October 16th

    I printed two pairs of overalls and the back of an olive green chore jacket.

    Giant papaya leaf printed with white paint on the back of a green jacket with my hand for scale.  It is roughly 4 times the size of my hand.
    I'm a nonbinary human with pale skin, green glasses, and short brownish hair caught on camera laughing by my then four year old. I am wearing hand printed overalls with giant white leaves and a black shirt. My hands are in my pockets and my gray green art studio is behind me.

    I’m wearing the overalls with my Gary Graham tee which feels full circle.

    I bought this white fabric paint in 2021 after seeing Gary Graham paint a dress on Making the Cut.

    I knew I wanted to paint a pair of olive green overalls, but didn’t know what I wanted to paint. Sometimes the seed of inspiration takes a while to sprout, but it’s always worth the wait. 🌱

    I am taking a selfie in my green overalls with white papaya leaf on the front. I am smiling and wearing green glasses. I have short brownish hair and pale skin.

    After printing these they reminded me of the S. S. Daley collection Dan Levy wore last autumn. I fell in love with these looks on first sight so it was probably an unconscious influence.

    I remember seeing the trench coat first and thinking “I want that, but with leaves.” Then I found the second.

    Giant papaya leaf with my hand for scale.
    Dan Levy on Instagram with an olive green coat and white leaves printed on it

    Photo Source: Dan Levy

    Wearing: S. S. Daley Fall 2022 & DL Eyewear

    Read more: Papaya Leaves
  • This week I’ve been doing a deep dive into Black Mountain College. It’s definitely an instance of orbiting ideas as Black Mountain College and artists have caught my attention many times over the years.

    This is my first deep dive and I’m fascinated that so many things I’ve been studied and been drawn to over the years: Buckminster Fuller’s visionary design, John Cage’s Happenings, John Dewey’s educational approach, Ruth Asawa’s interaction of life and art all converged in these mountains.

    I want to really go deep this time as I draw inspiration for a new project. I’ve ordered some books, but in the meantime I’ve been watching YouTube videos.

    Here are 3 of my favorite quotes with the videos they are from below.

    "We do not always create works of art, but rather experiments. It's not our intention to fill museums, we are gathering experience." Josef Albers

    “We do not always create works of art, but rather experiments. It’s not our intention to fill museums, we are gathering experience.”

    Josef Albers

    Black and white image of performance art. Actors swathed in white paper.

    “At Black Mountain there was no distinction between life and art.”

    Black and white photograph of a child building LEGO with a Black Mountain College documentary of students building beneath a geodesic dome behind.


    “The experiment was what would it mean to teach everyone to think critically.”

    I watched the third mini documentary this afternoon while Davy made LEGO art.

    I’m struck by how the concept of hands on learning through art aligns with my own views about home education. It’s all very exciting.

    Child building a line out of LEGO

    And then I found this video which linked Dewey and Freire in the progressive education movement.

    Which ties nicely to this short video about handwork vs brain work. (Leading to Helen’s book Leap Before You Look.)

    And another Black Mountain College documentary. This one is dated, but has an interview from an actual student (Jonathan Williams), “What appealed to me immediately was that everyone was available to each other and time seemed to be no problem. I had left Princeton because time was very much a problem. It seemed almost impossible to reach the faculty who were set up to do their one lecture or two lectures a week. And then suddenly they disappeared.”

    Jonathan Williams founded Jargon Press which is “predicated on this idea that there are voices and poetry being ignored which deserve to be heard.”

    On his process editing / curating, “You have to do the doing.” “Being self initiating. I don’t sit around waiting for these people to materialize. I mean I go out and find them.” He ties this to walking and hiking and Black Mountain College.


    Cross Pollinate 🐝

    More posts about Black Mountain College.


    Footnotes

    Carolina Finds. “Black Mountain College: The Most Influential School That Vanished.” 9 Feb. 2022 (Accessed 11 Febuary 2024.) https://youtu.be/C7foVazThjE

    Craft in America. “Black Mountain College, VISIONARIES Episode.” Jan 7. 2019 (Accessed 11 Feb. 2024.) https://youtu.be/IKnmWmQi5Ew

    ICA Boston, Helen Molesworth. “Life at Black Mountain College: Learning by Doing.” 7 Dec 2015. (Accessed 11 Feb. 2024.) https://youtu.be/Mze1rtN1OXA

    Craft in America, Helen Molesworth. “Helen Molesworth on handwork.” 22 August. 2018. (Accessed 11 Feb. 2024.) https://youtu.be/NxBZqA-Asvw

    “Black Mountain College: a Thumbnail Sketch.” Produced by Monty Diamond and South Carolina ETV. Documentary, 1989. (Accessed 11 Feb. 2024.) https://youtu.be/G3xSAew7vEU

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  • Why I’m Breaking Up with Substack

    Over the last year, Substack has been one of my biggest creative outlets. I’ve spent more hours writing, podcasting, and engaging on Substack than anywhere else.

    I don’t regret the time I’ve spent there or the connections I’ve made, but it’s time for a pivot.

    If you don’t know about Substack yet it’s part blog, part newsletter, part podcast, part YouTube channel, and (most recently) part social media.

    Last month they introduced a big change to their business model.

    Their app, which was previously a chronological feed of long form blog style content, introduced an algorithm and put their social media style posts up front and center. It becomes increasingly obvious that they are going after the “Twitter market” and / or whatever brings them the most money. It feels like watching Instagram slowly become something other than a photography platform.

    I’ve seen this movie and I didn’t like the ending.

    My platform is small, but I made about $300 in paid subs last year. The week before Substack introduced an algorithm I had been planning to merge my paid tier with my creative membership program The Companionship. I had spent hours setting up Substack to host my membership program and course portal. And I put it all on pause because it didn’t feel right.

    Something I really dislike about Substack’s social media feed is how poorly it handles blocking and muting. There are certain topics that aren’t good for my mental health that I continue to see. Sometimes I even see posts or comments from people I have specifically blocked. With this in mind I did not want to continue using an app that opened a social feed I had very little control over.

    I deleted the Substack app.

    Black underwood typewriter with an orange autumn leaf

    And I’m loving it.

    I’m back to experiencing Substack as a newsletter again.

    PRO TIP: I use a special email address just for newsletters I actually want to read. (I actually did this the year before I joined Substack.)

    Without the noise of the social feed I’m quite enjoying Substack again. And I’m less overwhelmed so I’m actually reading more posts.

    But I am breaking up with Substack as part of my business ecosystem and I’m reframing the paid tier as a tip jar.

    Here are the changes I’m making:

    1. No more paywalled content. Instead I’ll send a special thank you card or letter in the mail once a year.
    2. I’m archiving my best Substack posts here on the blog. (Like this one.)
    3. I’m only sending out newsletters once a month instead of weekly.
    4. I’m blogging again. If I want to write something between newsletters I’ll write here and link to it.
    5. My membership program and course portal have moved to Ghost.org. Ghost is a nonprofit that has been around for a decade. I’m not moving my free list because it does not have the discoverability or user base that Substack does. But it is a completely private, algorithm free space that is perfect for a membership and course portal. It costs a flat fee of $9 a month and does not take any percentage of sales. I’m still in the process of setting it all up, but you can see how my Ghost portal looks here.

    My free newsletter will remain on Substack so long as engagement remains high and growth feels authentic. (If I see too many spammy follows I’ll move the free list to Ghost as well.)

    Right now I’m having slow growth on Substack and seeing new commenters who are engaging with my work. The comment system is strong and facilitates good long term discussions better than any platform I have ever used. So I’m not keen to lose that.

    Let’s Discuss.

    Are you on Substack? How do you feel about the changes?

    Cheers,

    Sarah signed with a swoopy S
    Read more: Why I’m Breaking Up with Substack