Something More Magical Than It Ever Was

From January 31 2008

Values such as 'making-do' and 'necessity' have been projected onto 19th century quiltmakers, but this demeaning idea has got to be re-evaluated. Nineteenth century women had access to a wide array of inexpensive materials as well as exhibition space in the form of huge well-attended fairs for their quilt art. It is my thesis that 19th century quiltmakers were artists and knew themselves to be. It's true that formal art education was not easily available to all women but I would suggest that it's also true that many of those women preferred (as I do) to work with cloth and thread. 

"If trends in visual and cultural studies and the so-called 'new art history' truly aim to revolutionize an understanding of the past, the aspirations and cultural productions of those women who worked in media heretofore outside the purview of mainstream art history - cloth and thread - must be taken into account." Janet Catherine Berlo

detail from reverse of Something more Magical Than It Ever was

From December 17 2007

God is alive

Magic is afoot

God is alive

Magic is afoot

God is afoot

Magic is alive

Alive is afoot

Magic never dies

Magic never fled

Magic always led

Leonard Cohen

And from February 13 2017

Michelle has given us this link.   

Four minutes of Leonard Cohen reciting the original.

Thank you Michelle for your friendship through the years of Judy's Journal. x

Self Portrait

self portrait with three of my four children made 1985 Judy Martin (from maternity clothes and painted fabric)

From September 29 2011

For years and years my artwork and my life were wrapped up with motherhood. My husband and I have four children, and this piece was made the year the third one was born. It is not my first quilt. 

Notice that the fourth side has no border, just a binding. I see it as a premonition of the fourth baby yet to come.
I cut up the maternity clothes I wore and re-arranged them. 
The mother is nursing her babe and drawing herself doing it.  At the same time.  That's how I was. How I still am.   An artist and as good a mother as I can be...at the same time. 

Fragile As a Leaf in Autumn

Fragile as a Leaf in Autumn  2004
 shibori with procion dyes,
 hand applique, hand embroidery, machine piece work
hand quilted. 70 x 90 inches

from October 25 2006
I spend a lot of time thinking.
I am inspired by what I've recently read.
The sketches I make during this early time are rough scribbles.
I make them in a book with ball point pen.

from January 29 2009

I am a mother who loves nature and worries about my family.
My quilts have longish titles.
My viewer recognizes the domesticity of these comfortable items.
The titles speak about the inner mystery within.

What if they just had numbers?    What if they were all named 'untitled'?

They are traditional women's work about traditional women's subjects.
When they are displayed in a white cube gallery setting, is that enough to elevate them into fine art?
Will people be affected by the lengthy time I spent?
Will they recognize their own memories?
Will they come away transformed by the work of the work?

from October 17 2006

my quilts let me tell my story
they let me speak about my life in code

Order Belies Chaos

From October 6 2006

I read an interview with Mary Babcock in the summer 2005 Surface Design Journal yesterday.  she believes that beauty holds the power to interrupt our habitual forms of reaction to world events (fear, anger etc) and provides a path to help us find the hope within ourselves.  She maintains that beauty is essential for growth and social change.

She refers to her time as a fine arts undergraduate.  "Another student drew with brilliant colours and animated marks.  During one critique someone asked about the content of his work.  He said his best friend had just died.  I was perplexed: how could he work with such brilliant colour during such pain?

I will always remember his answer.  It was the brilliant colour that enabled him to face the pain. Without that beauty he could not create.  Without creating he could not go on."

Family Life

Family Life 1990 Bear's Paw pattern, made entirely from re-purposed family clothing,
 the names of the family are used as quilting stitches.
 The shapes of the bear's paws made me think a mother's reaction to the chaos within a busy family day.
She throws up her hands.

from October 30 2006

So often I feel that I am the one who is responsible for all the things that are happening to me and to those around me.  I feel that I should be more in control of the situation when in actual fact, there's not much I or anyone can do.  The only place where I can do exactly what I want and can take total responsibility is the art I make.  Thank goodness for art.

Sonnet XIV

Sonnet XIV  1998  79" w x 89" h   A quilt made to celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary
The front of the piece includes text by Margaret Atwood.

From September 9 2006

Many people ask me if I feel isolated.  I usually answer 'yes', because Manitoulin island is so far away from larger centers in Canada and we live very privately here.  However, I don't think isolation is necessarily a bad thing for an artist.  I really do love solitude.  I'm reassured to read Nancy Crow's comments about being alone.  "I like it.  I love it.  I love being by myself.  I happen to believe that the more solitude you have, the more you're able to delve inside and find those rich levels of ability that are fresh.  Otherwise you're allowing all this chattering constantly coming at you and you can never reach that part of yourself."  

The reverse of Sonnet XIV  1998.  Elizabeth Barrett Browning's sonnet XIV is quoted
one of the sonnets she wrote for her husband Robert Browning

From September 11 2006

I make two sided cloth wall pieces that are large enough to cover two persons.  Thousands of hand stitches are used not only to quilt the layers together, but also to embellish the work with embroidery.
Production is slow and I finish about two a year.  I am currently exploring the metaphor of the quilt as a protective covering.

the water is my grandmother

From December 3, 2006

The earth is my mother
The sun is my father
The water is my grandmother

Cree

from August 16 2006

"All geometry - all architecture - derives from the proportions of the human body"

Vitruvius first century

Innana's Prayer Rug

From Sunday June 4 2006

I don't know about you but when i read a poem, even a short poem, I have to slow right down and think about it.  I have to read the words over and over and consider what the poet is saying.  If perhaps s/he might mean something else in addition to the obvious.  I appreciate the metaphors used in poetry.

I think that my quilts are like poems because of the slowness they demand from the viewer.  yes, the hand stitching gives visible evidence of the amount of time spent making them, but also, it is slow work to appreciate them.

When You Walk on a Tightrope

  

From May 14  2006

I grew up on a farm in North Western Ontario, near Fort Frances. I used to say that this area was the foothills of the prairies as it was quite flat compared to most other places in Northern Ontario.  This elm tree was visible from our living room window.  In fact, it was visible for miles as our place was on a slight height of land.

 

The text that surrounds reads:
'When you walk on a tight rope, at the least unexpected thing your break your neck.
Leave me alone, I can manage all by myself."    Kay Sage


The portrait is of my mother done with fabric paint on the white cotton.  (from a photo when she was 22 and pregnant with my brother)