This piece is from a series of pieces stitched on table linens that I call “Things We Don’t Talk About At The Dinner Table”.
This piece was inspired by the flowers I grow in my garden. I was sitting on the porch one day thinking about all the flowers growing now in places where human blood has been intentionally spilled.
How some flowers particularly like blood.
I live in a country founded on, and still perpetuated by, violence.
I live in a town named after a Sauk chief that the town celebrates because he was a “great” chief. But the reason they say he is great is because he opted not to fight the white man. Which saved his people, no doubt. But he should never have had to make that choice to begin with.
And now I sit where his people would be, and should be, sitting. I try to remember that when I am planting, picking and sniffing the flowers.
This piece is made of many little scraps of vintage and thrifted cottons plus a few old shell and bone buttons stitched on to a thrifted cotton napkin.
This piece is from a series of pieces stitched on table linens that I call “Things We Don’t Talk About At The Dinner Table”.
This piece was inspired by the flowers I grow in my garden. I was sitting on the porch one day thinking about all the flowers growing now in places where human blood has been intentionally spilled.
How some flowers particularly like blood.
I live in a country founded on, and still perpetuated by, violence.
I live in a town named after a Sauk chief that the town celebrates because he was a “great” chief. But the reason they say he is great is because he opted not to fight the white man. Which saved his people, no doubt. But he should never have had to make that choice to begin with.
And now I sit where his people would be, and should be, sitting. I try to remember that when I am planting, picking and sniffing the flowers.
This piece is made of many little scraps of vintage and thrifted cottons plus a few old shell and bone buttons stitched on to a thrifted cotton napkin.