Category Archives: pattern
shapes of stories
Rewriting stories with empty lines.
YOU ARE HERE
YOU ARE HERE
In every word I recognize you
in the words that I know I am with you
in the words that I don’t know or that have not been invented yet, we wait for each other.
In my old English dictionary there are many words between hyphen – Bindestrich and immortal – unsterblich: hypnotize, hypocrite, hypothesis, I, idealism, idiot, ignorant, immaterial, immense. To spell just a few. You are everywhere. And me too, how else would I know these words. Sometimes it is very obvious, sometimes not at all. I have used more than 100 pins to localize us. Of course, more than 100 is not enough. Of course, one dictionary cannot be enough.
pocket dictionary English – German, pins with polymer clay. 22 x 15 x 4 cm. If you are interested in a poster, let me know. Find more pictures hereand here.
15 to 27 plastic bags
From a material with a history that reaches back thousands of years, we have created shopping statements. This cannot be the end of the story. Plastic bags are a cultural misunderstanding. That is why it took conciliatory gestures to grow 18 plastic bags into a wall hanging. And with gestures of joy, 15 plastic bags began to bloom again. 27 other plastic bags began to remember their long history that also includes life on the bottom of a sea.
The last time I was working with plastic bags I created patterns with my little frame loom. See more in this posting.
Shopping receipts can be condensed to reveal the personality type of the consumer. This sentence could be from a marketing text book. With my little loom I did as market researchers do. I worked through a bunch of my own receipts, condensed and connected them and indeed, the patterns that emerged say a lot about me. Within the limits of this technique, of course.
You can see more of my shopping patterns over at behance .
Tomtits are building a nest below the roof of our house. They lost quite an amount of moss right in front of our door. It just fell out of their little beaks. Nothing special happened. Or did it? What if the moss was meant as a greeting: Hello neighbours, we are just moving in!
What if the moss is a discreet piece of advice: As experts we advise you to make the entrance of your nest a little softer.
What if the moss is part of a curious investitagion: We tomtits use this to build nests and what are you going to do with this?
So I find myself in the middle of a moss story: I am drawing moss, gluing it on paper, I am stitching moss patterns and make moss from wool.
If I place the drawings on tracing paper on top of each other, I get a nice mesh of moss layers. Or a book.
Converting stories and joining them to form new patterns has something conciliatory and healthful to it. The new stories that are created through weaving with wool acquire a warm and soft quality. They are not told for differentiation but make bonds.
The story with feathers talks about longing: longing to be free as a bird, being able to fly and leave the limits of a familiar horizon. I used strips from songs and from a book about the history of spaceflight in combination with the feathers and wool.
The woven story with twigs is all about growing and greening. Maybe it is just a story about spring. If you want to see more woven pieces, check out this woven selfie at flickr and a pattern from weaving plastic bags.