My week at Penland School of Craft was amazing: restorative, affirming, welcoming. I am a huge Penland fan, now, and cannot wait to return, I hope, next summer, if not at some point for a longer stay.
My work in the textiles studio with Nneka Jones reminded me of the joy and camaraderie I experienced in art school. Made me miss those years, and wish for a do-over, or do-again. About a year or two ago I read Nell Painter’s Old in art school, which I relished. And may actually re-read, which is rare for me.
As someone in their fifth decade, I’m usually in bed prepping for sleep between 9-10pm each night. But at Penland….I remained in the Lily Loom third floor textile studio until after midnight one night, and nearly 11pm another. It has been too long since I felt that drive, that obsession to work on something, pour my energy and time into it. Eventually I made myself leave because I grew tired and sloppy—poking myself with my needle, or losing my floss too often and having to re-thread my needles.
Another artist and I explored the empty building prior to the beginning of the seventh summer session. The second floor held dozens of looms and windows overlooking the iconic Penland view. The third floor wasn’t as amazing as the second, but it was an excellent studio space in which I spent many hours. Each floor was well-stocked with dozens of books about textiles, weaving, sewing, fabric construction. Truly an immersive and delicious experience.
I left thinking about how to construct similar worktables for my home studio. But, incredibly a day or two after returning home from Penland, my darling, generous next door neighbors asked me if I wanted a work table they formerly used for their furniture up cycling side hustle. I said yes, of course. And they gifted me a huge box of upholstery fabric samples. Heaven.
What is it, serendipity? Synchronicity? All signs encouraging me to create! The universe providing the tools I need. A beautiful thing, really.
I remembered what working alone, together felt like. Having other artists surrounding me, chatting with them about their interests (very similar to mine), their experiences… Giving and getting advice about areas of our work that seems stuck. Working so intricately on our projects gave us tunnel vision, and we all doubted the quality of our work. We were too close to see, which was quite interesting, as I listened to Rick Rubin’s The Creative Act: A way of being (which I noticed at least one other artist reading at Penland) during my first day or two at Penland, and he remarked that getting some distance from our work helps us see again, or renews our vision of our work. Right book, right time.
