New Mexico textiles Archives – Page 2 of 2

The start of 2022’s been a little hazy with pain. On December 19, preparing for company and the holidays, something happened to my hip/back. Initially, we thought it had to do with a new med I’d just started for migraines, which would’ve been really sad as it seems to be working. No daily headaches can really brighten your day, let me tell you! Long story short, I tried my usual yoga and the chiropractor, no real relief. But friends and family and sparkly Christmas lights (and good bottles of

Photograph of clown in pain — “Pierrot in Pain,” albumen silver print from glass negative by Adrien Tournachon, person in photograph = Jean-Charles Deburau, 1854-55, from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, in the public domain.

wine) go a long way to distract one from the pain. Unfortunately, last week, it all went south, and we headed to the ER located conveniently up the hill from the house. Thought we found the answer there (after 7 hours of possible Covid exposure!), but NO. Talked to a number of my providers over a couple of days, but in the end, because medical practices of all kinds are overrun by the Coronacootie, I had to settle for an appointment later in the month with my rheumatologist.

But then there was Saturday and Dr…YouTube! While I’m always cautioning Tom and the kid about relying on and trusting Dr. Google, I was desperate. I was also starting to think that it was actually more of a mechanical problem rather than something internal. Long story longer, it looks like a really bad case of sciatica, much worse than anything I dealt with when I was pregnant all those years ago. (The kid’ll be 25 this year.) Did the right exercises and some targeted yoga, more ice, then fired up the hot tub. Life was much better by Saturday evening. I slept well for the first time in weeks. A couple of days later and I’ve backslid, but I think I’ve turned the first BIG corner. It’ll take awhile, but soon Bowyn and I hope to be back to our early morning walks in the Bosque.

What bothered me most – besides the pain and limited mobility, of course – was losing so much time making, creating. After all the holiday hoopla, by New Year’s I’m ready to hunker down with my journal/sketchbook and supplies to make new stuff. There’s a stitching project I’ve been mulling on for 2022; it needed more fleshing out. That didn’t happen. I wanted to start a new “Baby Boucherouite” to use in my In the Studio Workshop Week 4 class on January 30. Getting to draw that out today. Finally.

I did manage to finish the Angel of 2022, but haven’t gotten her up to the Etsy shop. Photographed her just yesterday. During that demoralizing Patriots game.

Hooked rug, hooked art — THE MIGHTY ONE, THE ANGEL OF 2022. Hooked with old t-shirts, plastic bags, gold lamé, and a wee bit of wool.

But I had a little epiphany in the hot tub Saturday evening. Maybe it was just the chardonnay whispering in a picture-perfect New Mexico sunset and a bubbly 103º, but it did tell me how great life is and can be when you stop and rest for a bit. Sure, there’s Omicron and all, but the folks in my bubble are all vaxxed and boosted, so it’s unlikely any of us will die if/when we catch Covid. The world won’t end if my yearlong project doesn’t start till February. Or because I haven’t hit 10,000 steps in three weeks.

Why is it that we need a crisis to remind us that we can’t control everything? And while we’re dealing with sed crisis, the rest of our lives rarely fall apart. Completely at least. The reality is that having time off from working out every morning has let me linger at breakfast reading the paper and having another cup of tea. Not racing onto the next rug has given me more time to practice crocheting. And Tom’s been taking good care of me, though I’m not sure if that’ll extend to encouraging the purchase of a pair of “pity shoes.” (I’ll let you know.)

“Acute Pain,” by Thomas Rowlandson, 1800, from the Metropolitan Museum of Art, in the public domain.

I beg you to learn from my pain-filled experience. Or don’t; feel free to enjoy your own. LOL. In this new year, take a little time to slow down before you break down. Remember that you cannot control the world, not even your own little part necessarily. You definitely can’t control people, not the ones on TV or Facebook or even the ones in your family. Just do what you need to do for you. Because if you don’t put that oxygen mask on first, you certainly can’t help someone else with theirs.

High on Hooking dog with crocheted and hooked art — Bowyn implores you: ” For the love of God, take care of yourself. Who the hell else will walk us?” Meanwhile, for a price, he shows off the things I’ve worked on in the past couple of weeks.

Which leads us into an advertisement for WORKSHOP WEEK 4 kicking off Sunday January with a class and panel discussion led by Susan Feller. Classes are filling, some are to capacity. Now is the time to do something for yourself. At home; no Covid exposure needed! We’ve got nine workshops running, all very different, not all involving hooking. Find more INFO HERE or send an email to me at Laura@highonhooking.com.

In the meantime, take a look at our Instagram page. The various artists/teachers have been taking over the account these past few weeks in order that you might get to know us. If you’re interested in a class or just someone’s pics, take the time to message or email them. You never know where a new skill or just a new contact might take you in 2022…

In-person events. Can you imagine it after over a year of hiding out from each other? But it’s starting to happen!

High on Hooking and friend Catherine Kelly will be vending our first in-person show since November of 2019! We’ll be at the SPRING & FIBER FESTIVAL at EL RANCHO DE LAS GOLONDRINAS June 5/6. It’s an outdoor venue, so if you’re vaccinated, you probably won’t even need a mask! If you’re in the area then, please stop by to chat and fondle the rugs. Mention this blog post and get a 5% discount on anything you purchase from High on Hooking. (See our other events in the Calendar.)

Spring’s just busting out all over! It’s been a big week here in the HoH house. We entered the modern age when we traded our 2003 Honda Accord in for a much newer “old” car, a 2019 CR-V. All those freaking electronics! Fortunately, I still have my little Fit to tool about town in and keep my gas usage and emissions to a minimum.

Wednesday, Cathy (above) and I took the new vehicle for a spin up to Santa Fe’s Museum of International Folk Art. Other than the need for a mask, it was like pre-Covid times! An in-person museum visit! I was so excited early last year when the museum announced that they’d be having an exhibit of the Afghan War Rugs from summer through the fall. And then the Coronacootie struck! No fears – they were able to extend the exhibit through September of this year. Since I had my second Moderna vaccine last week, it was finally time. And the carpets did not disappoint. Unfortunately, I couldn’t take any pics, so I stole the one below from the museum’s website.

Photograph of Afghan War Rug; we were able to go to the museum in person. — Photograph from Museum of International Folk Art

For those who aren’t familiar with the Afghan War Rugs, at first glance some of them look like typical, traditional rugs woven in Afghan and other areas of the Middle East, but when you take a second look, you realize that the Cypress tree motif is a…missile. A “boteh” (paisley) is really a helicopter. Look a little harder and you’ll find pistols, machine guns and grenades. In some of the rugs, though, the artisans went full on war-rug. You can’t miss the tanks.

Afghanistan is known for its rugs, though many of these rugs were created by Afghan refugees in Pakistan and Iran after Russia and then the US waged war in the country. They offer, certainly, an artistic commentary on what’s happened in (primarily) the last 40 or so years. (Russia invaded in 1979.) But they also demonstrate a commercial response to war in Afghanistan and the effect on its people. The carpets have proven popular with journalists, military personnel, foreign aid workers, and such.

The emergence of war-related imagery in Afghan rug design has clearly aided the economic survival of area weavers and displaced craftspeople through years of armed conflict and cultural disruption. What war rugs mean to individual weavers is less understood. Are war rugs a celebration of modernity or a rejection of war? Are they a witness to shared trauma or a commercialization of violence? Are they testaments to ingenuity and a spirit of survival? Perhaps they are all of these things at once.
(Museum of International Folk Art)

Over 40 rugs hang in the exhibit. Some look brand new; others have clearly been used as…rugs. All are fascinating to view. And, of course, being textiles, we desperately wanted to touch them. To turn them over and examine them. Yeah, that would’ve gotten us booted out. Unfortunately, too, there’s no real info about individual rugs or artists. Though this isn’t surprising.

If you ever get a chance to see this exhibit, make sure that you do. If you’d like to read more about the War Rugs, there’s a great article here. The Museum of International Folk Art has a virtual exhibit available here.

Dogs on hooked rug — This is what happens when you try to take the WHAT’S ON THE FRAME pic too close to the boys’ dinner hour. Just getting them both in the frame was tough enough, then they kept looking over their shoulders as if Daddy was about to make and eat their meals. Still working on the newest in the happy rug series. Her name will be “Abundance.”

What events are you excited to get back to in-person this year?

HIGH ON HOOKING

Tag: New Mexico textiles

The pain of it all

We’re going to shows – in-person!