Cut It Out

I have always made art, but I never considered myself an artist until recently. I grew up in a family of artists who used unconventional materials, made abstract images, and appreciated all types of work, but in my mind, being an artist came with a certain aptitude for recreating the outside world as it is and I just wasn’t apt. It felt like a failing on my part. Surely, if I could commit to the study of figure drawing, take classes in realism, or spend hours practicing the techniques of others, I would unlock this hidden potential passed down from generation to generation. Only then would I be able unlock my own style. I wasn’t able to explore my own unique artistic interests without first mastering all of the “basics.” I think that’s a common misconception when it come to being creative. That misconception is something I needed to step out of and when I did, I flourished.

My current and most rewarding creative journey began at an annual “Tie Dye Mai Tai” party thrown by some friends. Every year we would gather together with our heaps of white clothing and drink rum and make a colorful mess of things we would never wear once. It was a great time all around, but more and more every year the task of choosing white items to ruin seemed exceedingly tedious. Thus began my deep dive into the world of tie dye and textile art. Determined to level up and to walk out of one “Tie Dye, Mai Thai” with something I wanted to keep, I began learning everything I could about fiber reactive dyes, material fiber content, other chemicals needed to react with the dye and the in depth processes to put them all together. Launching myself into this impromptu education and experimentation was the catalyst I needed to shed my misconceptions of what art is and who can make it. I spent hours folding, tying and dyeing everything I could. The most magical time of any day became when the “batching” or curing of a piece was finished and I could take my scissors, cut away the various ties, and slowly start to the reveal the pattern. Every zip tie, rubber band, or piece of waxed thread that I snipped away would show the most unexpected colors and shapes. Opening the folds even more would show continuing depth of patterns; sometimes the most spectacular symmetries would appear. In fact, in most of my pieces now, I use many lines of symmetry while intentionally randomizing other parts of the folding and dyeing process. The outcomes of these projects are colorful pieces of clothing or large tapestries that almost look like kaleidoscopes. And just like kaleidoscopes, you truly never know what you’re going to get. When I tie a new piece, it is usually many hours, if not days until I can take my scissors to the sink to rinse the dye and carefully cut open the ties, which act as resists, to determine if my process was successful. To me, it is the perfect combination of practicing some basics and letting my mind and hands run free in a way I never thought they could, or should.

For my grandmother’s 85th birthday this year, I gave her a jacket. My grandmother is a big shopper and she is constantly rotating her wardrobe and minimizing her closet, most often by trying to give her clothing to me. It seemed a little silly that I would give her a jacket when my closet is filled with various outer garments she has “needed to get rid of,” but maybe this was my way of downsizing my closet in return and this jacket was special. This jacket had been hand-dyed by me, off-white to a gorgeous deep teal/green gradient swirled with shades of lighter green and blue. The back of the original jacket featured a large pleat down the center that opened back and forth as the jacket moved, but I wanted to fit the back panel with a custom tie dye piece. I used my sharpest scissors (used on fabric only, please!) to very precisely cut out the backing of the pleat, then stitched it closed to create a flat, one layer jacket back. I carefully cut a bright orange, purple and red tie dye piece to fit the back of the jacket, straight down the center, from collar to waist, and finished the edges with stitching so it wouldn’t fray. I sewed the finished tie dye panel to the back of the jacket, creating a contrasted combo I never could have planned, but that could not have been more well-suited. My grandmother wears the jacket well. When I gave it to her, she put it on and modeled for photos, which she never does. She smiled and I was happy.

Learning to trust in my interest, educating myself and leaning into the creation of something uncontrollable, yet so beautiful, has been one of the great learning experiences of my life so far. I have been able to share with my family of artists and my Tie Dye, Mai Tai friends, my grandmother and learn from some of the best in the tie dye community (who knew there was a tie dye community, right?). I have become my own abstract, unconventional artist on a creative path that fulfills me in a way figure drawing and realism never could. So for those questioning their right to be an artist, cut it out!