2015
This series takes the compositions created after mending clothes and applies them to canvas panels of my scale. Lined up with where the mends would fall on the body, the patches map how we wear our clothing, while the colors derive from the thread used from initial repair. Installed suspended in space to embody a human presence, these maps showcase the front and back of the embroidery, indicating the “put together” and “falling apart” aspects of the human condition.
Canvas, embroidered, 24” x 72”
Mending Topology I
Mending Topology II
2014–ongoing
A good mend requires love. This sentiment was said to me by a close friend after I mended and returned a pair of jeans to him. It brings me great joy to spend time repairing loved, but worn out garments for people that I, too, love. I started The Mending Projectin order to explore notions of healing and repair in relation to community building and personal mental health, and to see how mending clothes for other people would affect my art making practice as well as my relationships. It began by putting out a call to my close friends to bring me any article of clothing in need of repair. With little to no training, I darned moth holes, boro stitched crotches, and patched ripped elbows. Using brightly colored contrasting thread, I highlighted the wear and tear the garment has gone through- a badge of honor to proudly sport. Mending acts a way to supercharge objects with care, imbuing them with the essence of the maker. The process of mending is also a healing one for me. Stitching brings me to a place of self reflection and meditation- a place where I am comfortable being alone. My goal is to transcend the original object and build on the pre-existing foundation while imbuing it with an essence of myself- a way of embedding the object with care.
Joey’s Sweatshirt, 2016
Alex’s Vest, 2014
Rachel’s Flannel, 2016
Alex’s Jacket, 2014
Aaron’s Sweatshirt, 2015
Alex’s Vest, 2014
Alison’s Shirt, 2015
James’ Flannel, 2015
Jeni’s Sweater, 2015
Mike’s Shirt, 2019
Marie’s Pincushion, 2021
Julie’s Jeans, 2021
There’s a hole in my pants
2015
Wanna learn how to darn? Check out this book. Literally. Email me to check out more of the pages + get a zine.
2014
I tried fixing some broken leaves, but they broke on my way back to the forest, so what was I supposed to do?