Posted by: inkyspider
on Oct 20, 2010
This summer I grew six varieties of beans in my garden. They are my favorite vegetable to grow not only for their health benefits but also because of what they mean to me on a symbolic level. To me the bean seed represents the archetypal seed. They are almost the same shape as a baby in the womb. Beans are amazing to watch as they sprout because the process happens so quickly and dramatically. I love their diversity of colour and some of them look as though they have been individually painted by hand.
The process of shucking beans is pure joy. As you peel back the dry brittle pods the seeds appear like radiant treasures nestled in their own little chambers. The contrast of their colour, luster and solid little shapes against the dull pods thrill me every time. I love the feel of them in my hand.

Beans have naturally appeared my art over the years. When I was a painter I did a whole series of bean paintings in acrylic on canvas. They held a musical quality for me with a kind of rhythm in their forms.

When I moved more into textile design the image of the bean seed became more stylized. These cloth napkins have been dyed and screen printed by hand and then machine appliqued. I call this image 'Multiply'.

An image which I call 'Earth Bean' was with me first as a painting and later as a screen print on fabric. I have used it on tshirts and tote bags as a statement about the importance of seed saving and organic gardening.

'Earth Bean' celebrates the importance of the small to the wholeness of the large. Biodiversity is in crises and is especially vulnerable to the threat of GMO's (genetically modified organisms). By saving our seeds we can help to preserve the diversity of our lovely planet.
For more photos and information about beans I grew in my garden this summer check out my blog post titled "Enchanted Beans"
Posted by: inkyspider
on May 18, 2010
This is an article which I wrote in 2008 for my blog 'What Does the Golden Mean' . I really wanted to share it with this artist community because I feel that it is more relevant than ever. I hope you enjoy it.

Stitched shibori piece called 'ori-nui' , or undulating lines.
Ever since I started working with the Japanese textile patterning technique called shibori my relationship to the world of cloth has slowed right down. Instead of becoming bored with the tedious nature of binding and stitching cloth, I have embraced the meditative quality of this new 'slow' process. It has enabled me to realize my connection to textile traditions and women all over the planet. I've also realized the importance of preserving these traditions from cultural extinction so that we may continue to expand on them with new innovations and personal expression.

Bound resist belt sash over shibori stitched resist skirt. The fabric shown above is now part of this skirt
This concept of 'slow clothes' came to me last summer as I sat at markets and art fairs, working on a shibori bound resist belt sash which I was preparing for a fashion show. The technique required tedious but meditative binding of cherry pits into a beautiful piece of hemp silk fabric. I must have spent countless hours on this piece, but the result produced something which I am very proud of. There is no other way which I could have created this beautiful textured piece. Preserved in it's pattern are moments of my life that summer, not too mention pits from delicious local cherries . My husband had made wine out of them years before and insisted that they be kept for a 'project' sometime in the future. Now they are a staple of my craft. In this particular piece many of the cherry pits remain in the fabric to maintain the integrity and texture of the belt. Where they have been removed after the dye process, a beautiful pattern emerges.
Although I have done many stitched and bound shibori pieces, this particular belt sash has become a symbol to me of what I see as the 'slow clothes' movement. It was during my work on this belt that I came to contemplate this idea . However, it is also symbolic to me of the connection between food and clothing and reminds me of how indigenous people all over the world have always made use of every part of plants and animals which they 'borrow' from nature.
In this fast paced world I have begun to understand that the gift to the wearer of these 'slow clothes' is not only the fact that they are more carefully made and beautiful, but that they are infused with 'peace of mind' by the maker. They allow the wearer to participate in a cultural experience of connecting with tradition as well as the joy of the maker's creative process.