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Little red dots and thread

Last year around this time, I began threading red linen thread through tiny little holes drilled in wood. Over and over, threading each hole, like threading hundreds of needles again and again.

It coincided with this need to make little red dots of varying shapes and sizes, on various prints, tree rubbings and other found or painted material.

This repetition of paint and pen dots, or thread through holes became my manta, my om, that I repeated, and repeated and repeated.

It’s what I want to do right now, this repetitive action, to calm, to center to find the peace that comes with repetition. But as 2012 begins, I ask myself, what can I do with it next. What is the next step for this work? Do I continue making the collages with layers of images and dots? Or do I go larger, grander, bigger? I want to take yards and yards of the thread into the woods–and thread it through little cracks in trees. Kinda like this:

This is all I can think about right now. Will the weather hold and give me the chance to find the perfect spot in my woods to try out this woodland installation? Can you picture discovering something like this along your walks in the woods?

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