Dead Sea Jars and Spools of Yarn (2023)
Kaddish in December (2023)
In These Times of Disillusion (1) (2024)
"Ashirah" – I Will Indeed Sing! (2024)
After Thirteen Years of Weaving “Weft and D’rash” tapestries:
Tying Up Loose Ends Before the Final Stretch
Kaddish in December (2023)
In These Times of Disillusion (1) (2024)
"Ashirah" – I Will Indeed Sing! (2024)
After Thirteen Years of Weaving “Weft and D’rash” tapestries:
Tying Up Loose Ends Before the Final Stretch
I was about 650 tapestries into my project, and I needed to take a break for a few months. I switched from yarn and loom to ink and notebook. I began to rethink older musings and reflections, scribble down new thoughts and ideas, and record my anecdotes and stories – everything that clearly or opaquely relate to my Jewish experience.
As a child and into my twenties I used to love writing letters to friends and family. Carefully, I stored my received part of the correspondence in an old suitcase and placed it in the attic. And forgot about them. Then, in my fifties, I helped my dad clear out of the apartment I grew up in. Delighted to find the suitcase, I took it with me on a train ride, looking forward to reading every single letter from years ago. I boarded the train in Oslo, but when I arrived in Trondheim eight hours later, I was still reading...
So, in the spring of 2023, close to half a century after the date of the last letter, I am back to writing. I want to expand on my weaving project beyond the notes that accompany the series and tapestries. These essays reflect how my life’s stories influence my current work and vice versa. Like the ways that the vertical threads of the warp and the horizontal weft overlap and intertwine, life's details end up being mysteriously connected. I know the word 'tapestry' is too frequently used as a metaphor – but it is the best metaphor for the complexities of life.
The essay writing helped to clear my head for wrapping up my "A Thousand Jewish Tapestries" project. Which will take a few years . . .
As a child and into my twenties I used to love writing letters to friends and family. Carefully, I stored my received part of the correspondence in an old suitcase and placed it in the attic. And forgot about them. Then, in my fifties, I helped my dad clear out of the apartment I grew up in. Delighted to find the suitcase, I took it with me on a train ride, looking forward to reading every single letter from years ago. I boarded the train in Oslo, but when I arrived in Trondheim eight hours later, I was still reading...
So, in the spring of 2023, close to half a century after the date of the last letter, I am back to writing. I want to expand on my weaving project beyond the notes that accompany the series and tapestries. These essays reflect how my life’s stories influence my current work and vice versa. Like the ways that the vertical threads of the warp and the horizontal weft overlap and intertwine, life's details end up being mysteriously connected. I know the word 'tapestry' is too frequently used as a metaphor – but it is the best metaphor for the complexities of life.
The essay writing helped to clear my head for wrapping up my "A Thousand Jewish Tapestries" project. Which will take a few years . . .
