Where Did You Buy the Kit?
Someone once watched my entire thread painting demonstration and still asked where I bought the kit. Here's what actually goes into making one.
STORIES BEHIND THE ARTWORKARTIST LIFE
I have heard a lot of interesting comments about my work over the years. Some of them have been wonderful. Some of them have made me cringe. And some of them have left me completely speechless.
This is one of the speechless ones.
The Demonstration
I love showing people how I create my thread paintings. There is something deeply satisfying about watching someone's face change as they begin to understand what they are actually looking at. So when a woman stopped at my booth one afternoon and wanted to know what I was doing, I was happy to show her. I happened to be working on a section that was perfect for demonstrating, so I walked her through the whole process.
I showed her how I study the reference photograph to get the shape and size of each element just right.
I showed her how I cut each tiny piece of fabric - less than an inch long, sometimes much smaller - with scissors.
I showed her how I glue each piece down to the canvas, one at a time, layering colors the way a painter layers paint.
And then I showed her the stitching. The dense, time-consuming, back-and-forth machine stitching that blends all of those tiny fabric pieces together and gives the finished piece its texture and depth.
I explained that depending on the complexity of the design, a single small section can take several hours to complete. I explained that a finished thread painting can represent weeks of work.
She watched the whole demonstration. She listened to the whole explanation.
And then she asked me, "Where did you buy the kit?"
The Kit.
My mind went blank.
Then it started racing.
Did you not just watch me do this? Did you not listen to any of what I just said? Does this look like something that came in a box?
All of that went through my head in about two seconds. What came out of my mouth was considerably calmer.
"It's not a kit."
I still don't have a better answer for that one. Some things just defy a response.
Why It Matters
I tell this story because it perfectly illustrates something that every fiber artist and textile artist eventually comes to understand: people simply do not know what they are looking at.
And that is not an insult. It is just the reality of working in a medium that most people have never encountered before.
When someone sees a painting, they understand - at least in general terms - that a person stood in front of a canvas and applied paint with a brush. When someone sees a photograph, they understand that a camera was involved. But thread painting? Fiber art? There is no cultural shorthand for it. No reference point. No frame of comparison. So they reach for the closest thing they can find. And apparently, sometimes that thing is a kit.
What Goes Into a Thread Painting
Since there is no kit, let me tell you what there actually is.
There is a reference photograph, usually one I have taken myself. There is a design transfer process. There is a collection of fabrics - often dozens of different fabrics for a single piece - sorted by color and value.
There is a lot of cutting. Tiny pieces, carefully shaped.
There is gluing. Slow, deliberate, one piece at a time.
And then there is the stitching. Hours and hours of stitching, section by section, with a sewing machine running free-motion - meaning I control every stitch by hand, guiding the fabric in any direction I need to go. A computerized machine cannot do this. No machine can do this on its own. Every stitch is a decision.
When it is finished, the result is a piece that people sometimes mistake for a painting. A piece that makes them move closer, then step back, then take their glasses off. A piece that makes them ask what kind of brush strokes I used.
Not a kit.
If you'd like to see some of the finished results, visit the Gallery. And if you'd like to own a piece - or a product featuring one of my designs - you can find them in my shop.
No kit required.
