Tapestry Diary 2017 complete! (almost)

It being the end of the year there's been a flurry of interest lately in the tapestry diaries some of us are keeping.  When I posted my completed December weaving online last week a few folks asked for more information about the year's work.

Molly Elkind, December, Book of Half-Hours, 2017 tapestry diary

I've also had some queries about how to get started on a diary.  (Shameless self-promotion:  If you want a look at many artists' diaries and a guided tour of how to get started, consider signing up for my class at Convergence in July:  Plan Your Tapestry Diary.  The class is filling up but there are still several spots left.) 

When I started the 2017 diary these were my self-imposed rules or guidelines:

   

• weave each month's piece to finish 5" high x 7" wide; 
• weave an indeterminate amount each day, responding both to the day and to what has been woven before;
• when away from the loom, do not weave; 
• choose a palette of colors for each month but be open to adjusting the palette as necessary. 

In addition, I decided on a sett of 8 epi on a 12/6 gray seine twine warp.  I used my copper pipe loom and had to warp it twice over the course of the year.  You can see that overall these rules are pretty loose; the most specific guideline is the overall size of each month's piece.  My plan was to join each month's panel together to make an accordion book. 

For the first few months, January to April, I did respond to what I saw on my morning walks, the colors of the sky, of blooming plants, the street itself, and so on. 

Molly Elkind, January in progress, Book of Half-Hours, 2017 tapestry diary

In February I marked off each day's weaving with a half-pass of red.    

Molly Elkind, February in progress, Book of Half-Hours, 2017 tapestry diary

In April I decided to take a big risk and included a found object in the weaving, a red mailbox flag I picked up off the street.  This was a learning experience!  I should have used half-hitches all around the flag to stabilize the warps as they were stretched around the thickness of the object. . .but I didn't.  Live and learn. 

detail, April-May-June, Molly Elkind, Book of Half-Hours, 2017 tapestry diary.

In May, our schedule called for us to be away from home every weekend, so I devised a complicated system of colored squares and slits or interlock joins to indicate sequences of days spent at home or in another place.  I tried to weave each day as a perfect square . . . but (another learning experience) noticed halfway through the month that my third woven week was developing a wavy top edge.  One of my unspoken rules for the diary is not to un-weave if I can help it.  So, I inserted a corrective strip of weaving in gray.  Hey, I'm the artist, I get to make the rules, and re-make them, right?!

At this point it was becoming clear to me that the diary was evolving into a kind of tapestry sketchbook, in which I was trying out new ideas and techniques without much worry about whether they would make a cohesive whole or even always succeed technically.  And that was fine.  For me the important thing was to have a place to play and experiment.  

At the beginning of June I had just returned from a wonderful retreat with Tapestry Weavers South, at which Connie Lippert had generously shared the basics of wedge weave.  I set myself the challenge of weaving wedge weave, and changed the orientation so I'd weave that month from the side.  

Molly Elkind, June in progress,Book of Half-Hours, 2017 tapestry diary

In addition I decided to use only yarns from my scrap bag.  This actually turned out to be one of my most successful months of the whole year, I think.

When I started the July diary the Fourth was looming and our national political situation was on my mind, so I decided to weave a heart composed of hatched lines of red and blue on a gray background.  

Molly Elkind, July, Book of Half-Hours, 2017 tapestry diary

In August I returned to the idea of incorporating objects I found in the street on morning walks.  This time I chose thinner objects, and arranged them in a composition of sorts.  The tweedy background was meant to mimic the texture of the street.  I think now I've got found object weaving out of my system!

Molly Elkind, August, Book of Half-Hours, 2017 tapestry diary

In September I chose to use only scrap yarns again, and only horizontal lines.  Partway through the month, though, I saw a discarded sunflower in the street on my morning walk and decided to incorporate it too.

Molly Elkind, September, Book of Half-Hours, 2017 tapestry diary

In October I adapted an old watercolor sketch, changing up the values and colors and again using scrap yarn.  Only darks were left in the scrap bag, so that's what I used.  I was happy with how this one turned out too.  

Molly Elkind, September, Book of Half-Hours, 2017 tapestry diary

In November I decided to do a study of textures, seeing how many different techniques I could use to create texture.  I also limited myself to a light palette this time.  Techniques included twill, twining, double and triple setts, countered soumak, slits, rya knots, eccentric weaving, twining, and plain weave with lazy lines. 

Molly Elkind, November, Book of Half-Hours, 2017 tapestry diary

In December, I happened on a diagram of regular hachure and hatching in Kathe Todd-Hooker's book Line in Tapestry (available here.  While you're there check out Kathe's blog as well).  

(c) Kathe Todd-Hooker, Line in Tapestry, p. 26.  Reproduced with permission.  

Upside down, it looked like a Christmas tree so I decided to practice this technique, using green Churro singles for the tree and fine tapestry wool for the background.  In a nod to my 2016 diary which tracked the colors of the liturgical calendar, the background moved from purple to white over the course of the Advent season.  You can see this image at the top of this post. 

I still have to do the finishing work on these last several months and join them to the January-July segments to make a complete book.  

Meanwhile, I've warped up my Mirrix to be ready to start the 2018 diary in a couple days.  Like the new year, an empty warp is pure potential, don't you think? 

2018 tapestry diary warp:  12/6 seine twine, 10 epi, 5" wide

If you are thinking of starting your own tapestry diary, it's a good idea to give a little thought to your starting guidelines.  To quote a previous post: 

Settling on these initial guidelines is an important and subtle part of the game.  You want to have rules, as it were, to govern the game and to make the artistic choices you face each day limited enough to be manageable.  On the other hand, you want those rules to be spacious and generous enough to allow for spontaneous creative responses to circumstances and inspirations. . . and for those inevitable days when you just can't get to your practice.  You don't want to set such strict rules that you get bored or frustrated. 

For further information about tapestry diary practices, check out these links:

Tommye Scanlin approaching the end of her 2017 diary 

Rebecca Mezoff's recent forays into the tapestry diary

my review of Time Warped . . . and Weft exhibit of tapestry diaries and other time-based weaving.

An expanded version of this review will appear in the next edition of the American Tapestry Alliance's member newsletter, Tapestry Topics.  If you're an ATA member, you'll see it.  If you're not, and you're a tapestry weaver, consider joining ATA!

Let me know if you plan to start a diary (it doesn't have to start on January 1 or even run a whole year!).  And share some pictures, below in the comments or on find me on Facebook or  Instagram.  I'd love to see what folks are doing!

Two shows!

The planets have aligned and I have work in two shows, both opening this weekend.

Here in the Atlanta metro, the juried Georgia Artists show has its opening reception Friday, May 5 6:30-8:30.  I'm excited to report that for the first time, Sam and I both have worked accepted to the same show (that's not in our own home).  For the best possible reason (our daughter is receiving her Master's degree) we will be unable to make it to the opening, but we can't wait to get a look at the show next week.  I got a peek at the list of the other accepted artists accepted and a number of Atlanta's finest, in a variety of media, are there.  I hope you'll make time to stop by while the show is up (till June 16).

One note about the venue:  While the building faces Johnson Ferry Road, parking is located around the back of the facility, accessible by taking River Valley Road on the south side of Johnson Ferry, and then immediately turning left into Bridgewood Valley Road.

The other show features work by Tapestry Weavers South.  It's rare to have a chance to see an all-tapestry show, and the weavers featured are some of the best in the country.  Eminent weaver and teacher Tommye McClure Scanlin will deliver the keynote address at the opening, Saturday, May 6 at 3:00 p.m.  That's a detail of her latest tapestry below.  The show is in Yadkinville, NC.  It's a beautiful time of year for a road trip!!!

Tommye McClure Scanlin,  Phoenix, handwoven tapestry 30" x 60", 2017.  

If you go to either one, drop me a line and let me know what you think.

You take the high warp, I'll take the low warp . . .

If you're a weaver, you know that one sure-fire way to start a spirited discussion is to ask whether warping from the front of the loom or the back is better.  Everyone has a definite opinion on this question, and the truth is that both methods are good, depending on circumstances (type of yarn, type of loom, type of weave structure) and what you're used to.

I'm wondering lately if the same is true for tapestry weavers regarding whether weaving on a vertical loom (high warp) or a horizontal (low warp) loom is better.   The end results are exactly the same: you can't tell by looking at a finished tapestry what type of loom it was woven on.  There are long traditions of excellent work done on each type of loom.

LeClerc Mira, my first love  loom

Lately I've been weaving on both types of loom and learning first-hand about the differences.  I acquired my first loom, a counterbalance 4-shaft LeClerc Mira, in 2008, specifically because I wanted to learn to weave tapestry and I was assured I could do tapestry on this loom.  But I knew nothing about weaving at all, and to learn I took classes from the good folks at the Chattahoochee Handweavers Guild in Atlanta.  I fell in love with weaving cloth, making scarves and shawls and baby blankets and for years that was the weaving I focused on using the Mira.

But meanwhile I searched for a way to learn tapestry.  To my great good fortune, Tommye Scanlin and Pat Williams, two world-class artist-weavers who live right here in Atlanta/north Georgia, offered a weekend workshop.  Finally I learned what I needed to get started.  I learned on a small copper-pipe loom and eventually upgraded to a Mirrix and then a big Varpapuu rug loom--all of which are vertical looms.  Until now that has been the only way I've woven tapestry.

Varpapuu upright loom

I like being able to see what I'm making right in front of me on a vertical loom, much as a painter does at the easel.  Beating in the wefts with the bobbin or fork is easy because you are working with gravity, packing down.  It's fairly simple to attach a cartoon behind the warp to follow as you build your shapes and design.  And while you don't have to use bobbins to hold your wefts with a vertical loom, I think it helps.  And they are such lovely tools, especially the ones made by Milissa Dewey at Bobbin Boy and John and Joy Moss.

M3 (working title) in progress, (c) Molly Elkind 2017.
Faces are distorted as they wind around the beam. 

I am just now weaving my first tapestry on my horizontal floor loom.  My first loom.  That I bought so I could weave tapestry.  And I'm shocked to discover how much I'm liking it.  For one thing, I use different muscles.  Working at the vertical loom stresses my shoulders a good bit, even if I try not to raise my arms too high.  It feels more natural to me to let my arms work more at lap level.  It also seems easier to sew slits on the floor loom.  And if you build the tapestry line by line, pick by pick, evenly across the width of the design, you can use the beater to pack the weft.  I started working that way on this current project, but eventually my preference for building shapes independently took over, so I'm using a lovely Snipes wooden fork to beat.

Mater Dolorosa in progress, (c) Molly Elkind 2017

And sometimes I use this heavy-duty chocolate splitter my friend Terri got for me years ago.  Since there's no way to attach a cartoon to a floor loom, if you want to use the beater at all, you have to transfer the design to the warp by inking it on the individual warp strands.  I thought it would be a huge hassle to have to ink the warp, but I'm finding I don't mind that too much.  It's kind of nice not to have that rattly paper in the way.  And I find it easier and faster to make butterflies for my wefts rather than winding bobbins, though I have been experimenting with that.

Mater Dolorosa in progress, (c) Molly Elkind 2017

No doubt you more experienced tapestry artists out there have additional thoughts (and probably corrections) to offer.  Tell me, which kind of tapestry loom do you prefer, and why?  Or do you use both?

Innovation is dead.

Or so says British artist Grayson Perry, in the Reith series of lectures aired on BBC Radio 4 in 2013.

The exact words that made me drop my tapestry bobbins and scramble for pencil and paper were:

Perhaps the most shocking tactic left to artists today is sincerity. 

Let me back up.  Last month many of my posts focused on what I saw as innovative artwork I'd recently seen in Milwaukee and in Atlanta at the High Museum.  I  used the word "innovation" a lot in these posts.  It was a delight for me to see artists do new things with familiar materials, with thread, beads, and scraps of paper.  I saw things afresh, and that is perhaps the cardinal expectation we have of modern and contemporary art.  For over a century, the First Commandment for artists has been to Make It New, and if possible, Shock the Bourgeoisie while you're at it.

Grayson Perry, a Turner Prize-winning potter who has also worked in sculpture, drawing and tapestry (yes!) has many provocative things to say about the contemporary art world, as you might expect from a guy whose public persona looks like this:

Grayson Perry

He acknowledges that these days, the ruling ism in art is pluralism.  There is no ruling style; anything goes.  Art is defined not by particular materials, techniques, subjects or qualities, but by context--where it is seen, who has made it or is paying attention to it, why it exists.  Primarily it is defined by those who are credentialed in the art world.  If you are looking for a witty, clever, dead-on insider's skewering of the contemporary art world, you will enjoy this series of four lectures, available on You-Tube and as podcasts on iTunes.  They are thoughtful, challenging, and very funny.

I have listened to three of the four lectures twice now.  Listening to Perry is a little like looking through a kaleidoscope.  Just when you think all the glittering pieces are resolving into an image, everything shifts and suddenly you're looking at a new idea or perspective.  There are layers of wit, irony and long experience as an artist to unpack.

And yet.  Underneath it all, Perry has rather old-fashioned notions about what constitutes a truly meaningful artistic experience.  And make no mistake, for Perry "art's most important role is meaning-making."  The artist is a "pilgrim on the road to meaning."  Despite his eyes-wide-open, cynical view of the contemporary art world, when he goes to a gallery or museum he wants to be moved emotionally. He even dares to look for beauty.  And he argues quite convincingly that the commandment to Make it New, to Shock the Bourgeoisie, has reached a dead end.  "Anything can be art but not everything is art."  At this point in history, all the boundaries have been transgressed.  It is no longer possible to be beyond the pale.  "Innovation is mere tweaking."

Well.  Where does that leave us then?

If the First Commandment was to innovate, perhaps the Second was that artists had to display a certain amount of self-consciousness and irony, to show that they were aware of what has gone before and that their own contribution somehow comments on or subverts other artwork.  Perry argues that this ironic self-consciousness is so commonplace now that it has itself become a cliche'.   Indeed, for an artist too much self-consciousness can inhibit the free flow of play.   This is where Perry remarks that perhaps sincerity, rather than irony, is now what is truly fresh.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have some to do some weaving about the Virgin Mary.

Feathers in tapestry

I had the idea I wanted to insert actual feathers into a small tapestry.  I had stumbled across an envelope with three feathers, one red, one blue, and one yellow and black, that I had saved who knows when, a long time ago.  I thought it would be a simple matter just to insert them in a shed and weave around them.  It seemed important to do this improvisationally, without a cartoon or samples, in the spirit of the collages I've been doing lately.

A couple other artists' work was in the back--or maybe the front--of my mind.  Tommye Scanlin's large tapestry of larger than life feathers, recently on view in her show at Berry College, made a powerful impact on me.  And I've been looking lately at the work of Lenore Tawney, that giant of fiber art, who frequently used feathers in her weavings and collages. 

Early composition idea.  Frame is resting on a black table.

Well.  Turns out that it's not as easy as it looks.  The small feathers just didn't want to stay put in my 8 epi warp.  I ended up stitching the two small ones in place with tiny tacking stitches, but that made the fine filaments of the feathers stick together in clumps.  Not great, but nothing I could do about it. I told myself it was OK and plowed ahead, in the spirit of experimentation.  The last feather, the large black and yellow one, was easy to insert and I got it to stay more or less in place while I wove a rather open weave around it.  

In fact I really enjoyed transitioning back and forth between traditional weft-faced weaving at the bottom and a more open web that allowed the warp to show and gave a more airy effect. Note to self:  explore this further.  Again, Lenore Tawney and others were here first. 

Weaving in progress. You can see I changed the position of the feathers. 

It looked rather good, so I flipped the frame over to finish the back.  Since it's a small piece, only about 10" by 6", I thought I'd weave the weft tails back in and finish the warps by knotting fringe.  Somewhere in that process I dislodged the yellow feather, and had to reinsert it.  It looks OK, but not as good as it did the first time. I'm telling myself I like the open warps at the bottom of the feather and the way the yellow spine sticks out at the top. 

It's not exactly what I expected, but I learned a lot, and I think it has a certain kind of quirky charm.

Have you done any experimental work lately?  How did it go? 

Tapestry diary progress

Back in early December I wrote about how I decided to start a tapestry diary, a piece in which I would weave a little bit every single day for an entire year.  I started my diary with the start of the church liturgical year, on Nov. 29, the first day of Advent. 

 Many tapestry weavers much more accomplished than I have done amazing things with this daily practice.  You can see some of them HERE.  Recently, Tommye Scanlin posted a photo of the spectacular 2015 diary she had just cut off her loom--it's every bit as tall as she is!  I love how she developed large images of seasonal natural motifs, images that may have taken a week or more to weave, but she also marked the passage of each day with small bands and blocks of color that fill in the spaces between the larger images.  A really brilliant twist on the conventional grid-like approach to the diary.   



Well, my diary is not nearly so gorgeous or original.  But I thought I'd share it with you, as encouragement for any tapestry weavers out there who might be thinking of starting one but might be just a tad intimidated by the impressive examples posted online.

 So far I'm mostly sticking to the rules I set for myself.

• I'm following a grid format, seven rectangles across for each week.  On days I'm away from home I'm leaving blank warps.  I was just putting in a row of half-hitches to support the next week's weaving but now I'm also inserting thin strips of matboard as a more stable foundation.  I've been away a lot lately so there are a lot of blank warps.  
• I'm using the colors of the liturgical calendar, for the most part.  On Christmas Eve, I used pink to honor Mary, the mother of Jesus, rather than sticking to traditional white.  I allowed the white of Christmas day to spill over into Christmas Eve's space as well.  And I threw in some silver yarn with the whites and off-whites for the 12 days of Christmas.
• Now we are in Ordinary Time, a green season that is a time for spiritual growth.  Basically, it's the church's default season, when there is no special holiday or holiday season being observed. In keeping with the idea of growth, I'm allowing myself to learn the pick-and-pick technique that yields alternating vertical stripes.  This week I'm playing with shaped pick and pick, trying to follow the gentle curves I've sketched on the white paper behind the warp.  I am learning more about it every day, with every little mistake I make.

In some respects I've broken the rules I set.  A few times I've allowed myself to use fresh new yarn off the cone rather than limiting myself to scraps and thrums.  A few times I've even worked ahead, like this week when I've been exploring the technique of shaped pick and pick.  I got so caught up in it I couldn't stop!  And during the white Christmas season, it seemed right somehow to break out of the grid and allow the weft to climb up the blank warps in gentle curves.

I really debated about whether to even share this since, as I said, this is hardly worth looking at if you're searching for visual beauty.  But it has been a very useful daily practice for me, and I am excited to see where the rest of the year takes me. 

What's looming?

Here's what I'm working on these days:

On my 4-shaft floor loom, there's a set of 8 tea towels.  I'm using my favorite yarn for that purpose, American Maid sustainably grown and naturally colored cotton yarn.  I'm weaving a pattern that I think of as a huge gingham check, using three different twill patterns and five colors:  two shades of green and two shades of brown.  The yarns are pretty pale until they're washed, so it may be hard to tell the colors apart on your screen.

I've been blessed with a great response to these since my farming friend, Phil Busman of Cherith Farms, has allowed me to put them out at his CSA this summer.  The folks there really "get" the appeal of cotton grown without pesticides and colored without dyes.  Gotta keep those folks happy with more towels!  This bumper crop of heirloom tomatoes is keeping all of us happy. 

And, drum roll please, I have finally warped my big vertical tapestry loom.  As you can see I had to use a step-stool for part of the threading process.  Many thanks to Tommye Scanlin for her indispensable guide, complete with great photos, for how to dress a high-warp loom.  (See earlier post about "It Takes a Village. . . ").

You may recall that my plan was that I'd scale up this tiny abstract tapestry I'd done years ago for my first try at weaving at a larger size on this new-to-me loom.  This design was loosely inspired by the general layout of illuminated manuscripts.

But after my exposure to pattern upon pattern in Istanbul, the arabesque has crept into my original design, and this is the collage I am using as my design.  No doubt it will evolve during the weaving process, but I am pretty excited about it.  It'll be a challenge to weave those graceful curves!

Meanwhile I've been busy with all the preparing-to-weave tasks:  sampling colors and types of yarn and scaling up the design into a cartoon (line drawing) that will go behind the warp and guide me as I weave.  For the first time for a tapestry, I have to calculate the amount of yarn I'll need, especially for the large expanse of white, to make sure I have enough before I begin.  It would not do to run out of that particular white yarn 3" from the top of the tapestry and then discover I can't find the same yarn to finish with!  So this morning I wove a small section with the white, measured it, and then unwove that section and measured the yarn.  Once I've got a full-size cartoon, I can calculate the number of square inches of the white background and figure out how many square inches of tapestry I can weave with the yarn I have on hand. 

But first I have to scale up the design, using the good ol' grid method.  My 8" x 12" collage will become a 24" x 36" cartoon.  At least the math works out with whole numbers!

Review: Intertwined show of Fiber Art

There's a new biennial show of fiber art in town.  It's called Intertwined:  Contemporary Southeastern Fiber Art, and it runs through March 21 at the Hudgens Center for the Arts at the Gwinnett Civic Center in Duluth.  I had the pleasure of attending the opening reception last Saturday night.  A few days ago I went back to the gallery for a closer look at the art.  This time I was even more impressed by the innovative approaches of several fiber artists working in the Southeast.

Jim Arendt:  Totemic Figures  Photo:  Molly Elkind

Let's be frank:  too often fiber art begins and ends with technical mastery.   Conceptual content can be weak.  The best work in this show goes far beyond technique and grapples with real contemporary issues, both in the art world and in the world at large.  Jim Arendt's piece Totemic Figures (see left) was awarded Best in Show.  Three monumental figures clad in flowing layers of cut-up blue jeans dominate the modest-sized gallery.  In two figures, strips of denim pour out from the mouth and eyes.   The third figure has a double face.  The effect is disquieting, threatening and mournful all at once.  The sheer abundance of the recycled blue jeans reminds me of the mountains of cast-off clothing at my local charity, waiting to be sorted through.  I also think of textile workers who sacrifice their health and sometimes their lives in far-away factories, making our disposable fashions. Doubtless other viewers will find other meanings.  There is fine craft here--the faces are depicted with amazing realism in carefully constructed layers--but the piece is much larger, in both senses of the word, than fine applique.

Detail, Totemic Figures  Photo:  Molly Elkind

Another piece that pushes a traditional technique into new territory, and one of my own favorites, is Cassidy Russell's Removing/Shifting (Doorknob), a work of machine and hand embroidery on layers of paper.  (Apologies for the off-kilter photo--I had to shoot at angle to avoid a distracting reflection.) For me the paper substrate lends the piece the aura of an obscure text, an enigmatic poem.  Stitches hint at a mystery:  what is behind the doorknob, if I were to grasp the edge that folds out from the page?  What would I see through the keyhole?  The precise stitches form frilly patterns suggestive of women's clothing, perhaps hinting at a domestic secret. This piece alludes to traditional decorative textiles without itself becoming one.  Loose ends are appropriate here.   

Cassidy Russell:  Removing/Shifting (Doorknob) Photo:  Molly Elkind

While work involving quilting, sculpture, embroidery, printing, painting, felting and mixed media techniques is on view, for me the innovative weaving stands out.  A number of pieces held my interest; I will limit myself to one here.  Robin L. Haller's piece All of Your Tears (photo below) garnered an Honorable Mention.  Large circular patterns float over several small circular patterns.  The piece is divided vertically in half--an intriguing  composition also used to great effect by Ann Roth in Serendipity--and yet color, line and shape create an all-over unifying pattern.  Haller's digitally driven TC-1 loom makes possible intricate combinations of weave structure, yet finally I was charmed most by the irregularities of the ikat-dyed warp, and the glint of hand-stitched gold threads.  

 Juror and judge Dorothy Moye states that the show reveals a "spectrum of techniques, concept, materials, execution, and global awareness transcending any hint of a regional fiber ghetto." 

Robin L. Haller:  All of Your Tears  Photo:  Molly Elkind

 This show does display the incredible variety of media and approaches in contemporary fiber art.  Many group fiber shows do that. This exhibit demonstrates that the best fiber work being done today can stand beside the best contemporary work in any medium.   Fiber artists are used to their work being "ghettoized," segregated in fiber-only shows.  Traditionally fiber art has been marginalized as craft, as women's work, as amateur and domestically oriented, lesser than the "high arts" of painting and sculpture.  Fiber-only shows have offered and continue to provide important opportunities for exposure and visibility to fiber artists.  



At the same time, however, these shows can fall into the trap of celebrating astounding technical achievement devoid of fresh content.  Intertwined is a pointed reminder to me and to all of us who work with fiber to keep pushing the conceptual content of our work. 


This show is sponsored by Atlanta's Southeastern Fiber Arts Alliance, (SEFAA) in honor of the organization's fifth anniversary.  Also on view are works by five artists chosen by Ray Pierotti in recognition of their outstanding contributions to the growth of SEFAA: Jennifer Crenshaw,  Lynn Pollard, Leisa Rich, Tommye McClure Scanlin, and Karen Tunnell.  Uniquely among the artists represented, Dahlonega tapestry weaver Tommye Scanlin was selected for both parts of the show. 

The show is on view through March 21 at the Hudgens Center for the Arts at Gwinnett Civic Center, 6400 Sugarloaf Parkway, Duluth, 30097.  A catalog of the show will be available mid-February at the Hudgens or from SEFAA at 1705 Commerce Dr. NW, Atlanta, 30318 or online. The show will travel to The Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Atlanta (March 23- April 21), Lamar Arts in Barnesville, GA (May 1-June 27) and Annette Howell Turner Center for the Arts in Valdosta, GA (Aug. 3-Sept. 16).

Go!  See the show and tell us what you think!