Two years ago, I pondered the question: If I could embark on any project, what would it be? The response came to me during a visit to the Brooklyn Botanical Gardens, and it was as vast as the towering trees.
Taking a leap of faith, I embarked on the endeavor. The mere purchase of the fabric left me breathless—100 feet of it! The sheer magnitude didn't register initially. The stitched portion of the artwork stands at an impressive 65 feet in height, and creating the image required adapting my pattern, spanning over 100 pages.
My previous series measured 11 feet square, allwoing me a sense of the space the new project occupied. However, this project extended to 15 feet in width—slightly larger than 11 feet. . As I began mapping it out, the realization struck that it was almost 50% wider than my previous experience.
Initially thinking it would take four months to complete, I underestimated its scale. Descriptions of the project consistently garnered reactions like "wow, that's big!" When relayed to others, the dimensions were often simplified to 20 feet in height, reflecting our tendency to relate to the world through our bodies.
The stitched portion, however, spans 65 feet—over three times the mentioned 20 feet. To put it in perspective, it exceeds the height of a six-story building. Working in my home studio, I only see a few feet of it at a time, as the fabric is rolled up on a bar 5.5 feet above the floor.
During the summer, I had the opportunity to unroll it in a warehouse, revealing its substantial size. The piece's dimensions created a unique relationship with it—it felt like a bike path or a church window when laid on the floor. The juxtaposition made my body feel simultaneously small and large, given that I had meticulously stitched every element.
Displayed outside on the side of a house for a weekend, only the top third (the completed section) was visible. The remaining two-thirds, partially stitched, were rolled up at the bottom. The sheer enormity of it disrupted my sense of my body, leaving me disoriented.
As I contemplate the future display of this piece, I wonder about the sensory experience. Will it evoke a connection between time and space? Will the past two years be encapsulated in the 65 x 15 feet expanse?
