I know what it was before it became what it is I’m at a disadvantage perhaps and must forget its ****** state its absolute condition of whiteness the purity of snow untrodden unmarked except for the lines woven in warp and weft
I don’t know how to look at this piece if I had it in my hands I’d turn it about this way that way upside down even to lie on its diagonals perhaps otherwise it appears like newsprint smudged but I think for me its best on its side so there are columns not stories floors horizontal separators
There - now it has something of that Annie Albers City Skyline a tapestry seen together on a January day you blue-skirted with winter boots grey-cloaked with stripy tights a sketching bag on the shoulder a camera in hand and I entranced by every move you made
As though seeking an image in a cloudscape I view a quintet of panels on a painted screen a Chinese landscape Han dynasty stark trees slow fields low hills rising to a darkening horizon then a river flows a valley forms and I am smitten by the accident of invention as always my love as always gathering myself into the pleasure of it all dear artist of weave and print