In honor of International Women’s Day I am featuring four women in my life, who have influenced me the most. All four of these women are exceptional and I am deeply grateful to each of them.
The first – my grandmother, who, though I did not always have an easy relationship with, I greatly admired her joy for life, her dedication to the environment, her devotion of the arts and her philanthropy.
Second – My mother who once told me, when I asked for her advice regarding parenting, “Tell them they are loved, show them they are loved, and one day they will forgive you.” That statement embodies my mother, her sense of humor mixed with wisdom of a life well lived. My mother models generosity and a love of learning, two things I value to this day. I love her dearly and think of her every day.
My mother, Paula Zurcher, in our cabin in Colorado
Third – my sister, who also happens to be my best friend. She is one of the kindest, strongest and hardest working women I know. I admire her. I respect her. I am forever grateful for her presence in my life. Though we live far from each other, I carry her with me every single day.
My sister: Toni Photo by: John Kelly
And finally, my friend, Sue Spargo, mother, daughter, friend, artist & business woman extraordinaire. Sue’s kindness, generosity and support have meant more to me than I can express. Sue has transformed how people see “embroidery”. With her techniques and artistry she has paved the way for so many. Sue continuously strives to find new ways of approaching an art form. She has encouraged me to push beyond what I thought I was capable of, and her friendship is everything to me.
“Crafts” have occupied a large part of my life. I was fifteen years old when I knitted my first sweater. My mother taught me to knit when I was so young my fingers had trouble wrapping the yarn around them. I didn’t realize it then, but being left-handed certainly must have made it more difficult for me to learn, yet learn I did, and to this day I knit as a right handed person does. It was the beginning of a love affair. When I was in my twenties I had a brief moment when I was the editor of the “How To Knit” page in Elle Magazine.
Ariane Zurcher DesignsAriane Zurcher Designs Capelet and Sleeves
My mother also taught me to do embroidery and sewing, this was in the days when knitting and fabric shops were as abundant as Starbucks. It was a special occasion when my mother would drive me to San Francisco so we could visit Britex, which carried the most luxurious silks and fabrics from all over the world. When I moved to New York City there was a little knitting shop on Sixth Avenue in the village that had hand dyed and spun specialty yarns. They were out of my price range as I was a student on a budget, but I would wander into that shop and just smell the wool and gaze at the beautiful colors, coveting the skeins that hung like candy along the walls.
Emroidered Creche my mother & I made when I was a teenager.
My father, born and raised in Paris, used to do Petit Point, at least this is what he called it, though in fact I believe he was doing what in America we call needlepoint. It was my father who taught me how to do basket weave needle point so the back of the tapestry resembled a basket weave, and was not as prone to warping the fabric and lay flatter or so he insisted. He looked down upon those who did their needlepoint by going back and forth horizontally. I have a pillow he made for me with the letter A prominently displayed in the center, it’s tattered back and edges giving clues to how old it now is.
The Pillow my father made for me
When I came to New York City it was because I’d been accepted to Parsons School of Design. My love of fabrics, sewing, knitting and all things crafts-related propelled me into the world of fashion design. It was an uneasy alliance and ultimately one I could not reconcile. I learned early on that anything “Crafts” related was the sullied, unkept cousin to “high fashion.” Crafts were what housewives did, it wasn’t the sort of thing an “artist” indulged in. So the thing I loved most, creating things by hand, became the thing I felt ashamed of. The world of fashion and the designers whose work hung on exquisitely tall and impossibly thin models, exemplified all that I wasn’t. My love of crafts became something I began to hide and even reject. It was “woman’s work” and if I was ever to make a career for myself, it was best to put those “childish pursuits” behind me.
“Craft” has begun to get its well deserved recognition and I couldn’t be happier. It is no coincidence that female artists in general are generating more interest in museums and galleries. Women’s work finally elevated to more prominence in a male dominated world is as it should be. “Craft” and all that it encompasses is yet another way we have been taught to undermine, under value and even ridicule work done by, mostly, women. We have a lot further to go, but it is wonderful to see that beginning to change!
Above is one of the images my teenage daughter sent me saying that she wants to dye her hair pink. I don’t have a problem with that, except for the fact that her hair is already pretty fried from having gone platinum (like Gwen Stefani) for years, and only in the last year plus has she agreed to get highlights, (less damaging) instead of full on platinum. Even so, her hair is not in good shape, we just had to trim it again, and I worry that it will get even worse if she goes pink. So we discussed. And then we discussed more, and there was alot of disagreement, interrupted by watching You Tube videos of a number of young girls dying their hair various shades of pink and how they did it. Some were incredibly compelling and I wavered between thinking maybe I should dye my hair pink, to sternly telling myself this was an idea I would quickly regret and reminding myself to get back on track as this wasn’t about ME, this was about my daughter and how could I best support her without her doing something that might just destroy what was left of her hair. Not my body, not me, get out of the way…
Last night I barely slept. Because this is just the sort of thing that keeps me up at night. And yes, I was aware, at 2AM that I was incredibly fortunate to be thinking about my daughter’s hair color and not something actually serious. I even said a silent – thank you – to the great unknown. And then I remembered that when my son was my daughter’s age he went in for some serious ink and came home with a massive tattoo that he now wants to have removed. I didn’t love that tattoo, though I rather like a couple of the others that he got, but again, not my body, not me, get out of the way…
My job is to support my children, now almost adults. This is easier said than done, however. I figure it’s my job to give them good information so they can make, hopefully, great decisions. Unlike my own young adult self who made a series of questionable and even very, very bad decisions! (I will spend the remaining years of my life apologizing to my mother for what I put her through.) But mostly I need to not engage in anything that starts feeling like a power struggle, because, in the long run, I’m not going to win, and anyway it’s ultimately counter productive. Again, not my body, not about me, get out of the way…
All of this got me thinking about designing (see, I told you my thoughts ricochet like a pin ball during the wee hours of the night/morning) and how similar these kinds of challenges are when designing and stitching. Often when designing I begin with a sketch. Sometimes that sketch evolves, but other times it’s simply the starting point. I have to be willing to let go of the initial idea. Some ideas are definitely more bossy than others. I have to go with where the design leads me, sometimes down unexpected paths. But most of all, I have to get out of the way…
Below is a sketch of a bracelet idea I had using 18 Kt Gold and a variety of green colored gemstones.
Preliminary Sketch for Bracelet
That idea eventually turned into this 18 Kt Brushed Gold Bracelet with multi-colored Tourmaline.
18 Kt Brushed Gold & Tourmaline Bracelet
Below is my sketch for what would finally become my Cookies Delight Quilt. The Pattern for this has been written and I’m just waiting on a couple of things before releasing it as a PDF with detailed instructions on how to make and stitch it.
Cookies Delight Sketch
My Cookies Delight Quilt, using Sue Spargo’s wonderful techniques for layering and stitching, free motion quilted and bound!
Finished Quilt
This is the preliminary very rough sketch I did for the piece I’m currently working on, which was begun in a workshop I took a few weeks ago with Sue Spargo.
Landscape Sketch
This is where it’s going or maybe I should say leading me… I am definitely having to follow this one as it’s careening off the original path I’d set out on. We will see! But that’s also part of the fun – seeing where it goes and doing my best to follow.
Landscape Piece in Progress
I’ve convinced my daughter, for now, to get highlights (compromise) and we’ve bought a “pink conditioner” and will apply that this weekend! Who knows where this may lead?!
People often say to me things like – “You’re so patient” or “I could never do that, it’s so tedious.” What I want to tell them is that I am so NOT patient. I am incredibly impatient, so much so that as a child my impatience was something often commented on by others, not just my parents! I would like to report that I’ve made massive inroads with this since then, but the truth is, I tend towards impatience rather than the other way around. However life has a way of throwing things at you, and over the years I’ve had to dig deep to find ways to temper my impatience. One of those ways, ironically, is through stitching.
Stitching is like meditation. It calms my mind, gets me out of myself and my often whirlwind thoughts that can ricochet from one crises to the next if left untended. Tending to my ragged nervous system requires vigilance and a whole series of things that I must do each day so that I have a chance at making sane, calm choices. Stitching is something I must do. It doesn’t feel like an option. It feels like a necessity. I must have material, needle and thread in hand or I feel off, the day is destined to be more difficult, life’s problems feel more acute, small problems take on a razor sharp edge, things begin to feel increasingly chaotic and impossible. Stitching gives me some semblance of order, a feeling of being a part of something much larger; a feeling that I am part of something inexplicable and unknown.
As I design and look at each shape, consider which thread to use, what stitch will best compliment that shape, those colors, that idea – it feels like I am inserting a little beauty into the day. And so this is how I cope. This is how, when everything feels impossible, when I am overwhelmed by life, through stitching I feel some semblance of calm in the midst of, what otherwise feels like, a tsunami.
Bullion Knots, Picot, Running Stitch, Backstitch & Beaded Backstitch on Wool & VelvetBullion Knot, French Knot, Backstitch, Running Stitch on Wool, Cotton & Dupioni Silk
My son, Nic, who is a teenager and has been painting since he was old enough to pick up a brush, just won an award from Scholastic Art & Writing for one of his pieces. It’s a portrait, done in acrylic on a large piece of wood, of a friend of his. That painting will be hung in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, here in New York City, in an exhibition featuring the award winners. To say that I’m proud of him would be an understatement. I’m beyond ecstatic. Every time I think of him and his beautiful painting I smile. A big, sweeping, all-encompassing smile. A smile that makes my cheeks hurt and my whole body feel as though it were filled with sunlight.
When Nic was little he began painting every day. We have drawers filled with his work. When he was three, a friend of mine wanted to buy one of his paintings, but it was one of my favorites, so I wouldn’t let her purchase it, even though Nic was happy to have her buy it. He sold his first painting to an art collector when he was 8 or maybe he was 9, I can’t remember now. It had a Basquiat feel to it, lots of color, playful and yet there was an undercurrent of something deeper. Nic was thrilled with his first sale and said he was going to save the money so he could buy himself something important, “like college”. He was 8 or maybe 9.
Nic’s always been a collector of sorts and, like both his parents, tends to get obsessed with things that interest him. I see this as an excellent trait. Every member of my immediate family is passionate (another, more accepting, word for obsessed) about their line of work. I say YAY to obsessions! I cannot imagine life without obsessions. This is also something that some people frown upon in the world of disability, particularly autism, where an obsession, having a passion for something, is called, “special interests.” There’s something so condescending about that. Why should a passion be called anything even remotely derogatory? Every human should be so fortunate as to have passions in this life.
Here’s to a life filled with passion and obsessions. And here’s to my son, Nic, his talent and this award! You’re amazing and I’m so proud of you!!!
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