Memorials and TributesThe loss of a loved one is a tragedy everyone experiences at one time another. There's no escaping the pain.Even so, the act of grieving can itself become healing, especially when those left behind become involved in the creation of a lasting memorial to their friend or family member. I ask the family to bring me an abundance of the most interesting and colorful clothes along with photos, papers and jewelry, to be crafted into a memorial wallhanging that reflects the personality of their owner, which I cull from interviews. This process is not limited to humans. I made the portrait of Clyde, the spaniel mix, nearly 8 years after he died. His story follows. Nor is it limited to the departed; I use children's clothes, toys and papers to make similar pieces I call tributes. They are joyful reminders of the highlights of childhood, made with christening gowns, baby shoes, toys, rompers, bonnets and the like. Brooke's memorialThe large quilt pictured here was made for Beacon Journal reporter Kim McMahan in 2008 from the belongings of her beautiful daughter, Brooke, who died in 2004. I felt the presence of this talented young woman guiding me throughout the eight months it took to create, and during that time, my own mother died.Making this quilt was an exercise in compassion, a meditation, a prayer, and when my grief was at its worst after my mother's death, Brooke and her quilt pulled me through a storm of misery. I came out the other side understanding things that I still can't articulate. I set Brooke's quilt against a water background, because she was a swimmer. Her Special Olympics gold medal dangles from the zipper pull of the pocket at the center top. If you look closely, you'll see Brooke's photograph peeking out of the pocket. Her jewelry, class pin and buttons from her clothes are embedded in the piece, bright sparklies that call the viewer closer but don't show well in photographs. Brooke loved the Titanic, so I made a photo transfer of a sign from the great ship and stitched it in. A piece of her swim towel, which says McMahan, floats along the right hand side. The three large pink squares began with three of her favorite T-shirts. The dogs and cupid and other motifs were cut from her clothes. The entire piece was pieced, an engineering feat that requires special knowhow when combining fabrics of different weights and textures. Brooke's mom told me that Brooke loved all of God's creatures, so I introduced other elements to express that, including fish and flowers. Abstract elements such as checkerboards were made from her favorite knits and cottons -- sweaters, dresses, parkas, blouses, skirts and other garments, some thin and stretchy, some thick and nubby, all combined in the finished piece. People who do not sew may not realize what a challenge it is to combine fabrics of divergent weights. It is a laborious process. Every piece of fabric must be meticulously stabilized by adding other fabrics to the back so they can be stitched together. That's just the tip of the iceberg. Kim was emotionally overwhelmed when she came to pick up the finished work, which was roughly 3 x 5 feet. It hangs in her family room. Clyde the barking clownClyde and his mom Maura and I used to kick around in the local parks when we worked at the Akron Beacon Journal together before she moved to Boston a few years back. Maura and Clyde cut a sprightly sightly wherever they went: She sometimes wore a blue beret and Clyde always paraded those handsome black spots on that sleek white body of his. Little did I know back then that I would one day be making Clyde's likeness -- using fabric from her favorite PJs to represent his spots.We communicated entirely by email and snail mail when Maura commissioned me to make the portrait. She sent along her white jammies with black spots because they reminded her of him. It was an evocative touch that made the piece more meaningful. More than once, Maura described Clyde as a clown, and that was the image I seized on when I began my work. Even so, the jester's collar he is wearing appeared like magic from a serendipitous technique I used to put him together. In the end, he really looked like he belonged under the Big Top. Maura sent the following missive to Dr. Jon of Pet Place fame in an Internet conversation about pet art: Dear Dr. Jon - My German Shorthair mix, Clyde was a work of art too. He's been gone for almost seven years now, but we still think of him daily. I recently gave his photo to my very talented friend, Connie Bloom (of Akron, Ohio), and she produced this beautiful abstract quilted piece for me. What you can't see in this photo are hours of time she spent meditating about my animal and what he meant to me before she determined how best to portray him. I gave her little direction if any, as I wanted the end work to be a surprise. What I love most, and what you can't see are the dozens of the beautiful little jewels sewn into the piece, including a little beaded heart right above one of his eyes. Connie specializes in memorial works, and animals are her favorites. I have copied her with the hopes she will share images of some of her other works with you and your readers. # |


