For this installation, I was inspired by loss of traditions, loss of tactile ways of making, and loss of person-to-person passing on of knowledge. Change is not inherently bad, but I want to slow down enough to recognize it, and to decide what to try to preserve and to continue.
I worked on this quilt during a month-long period living in Indiana, writing and biking through wetland, forest, and prairie. I wanted to work in the craft that my recent ancestors worked in, and that I have learned hands-on from my grandmothers.
The fabrics are a collection acquired over my life: fabrics my grandmothers gave to me to practice sewing with, fabrics gifted by friends, fabric I inherited when my great aunt died, fabrics I bought from creative reuse centers and resale stores, a few clothing items I wore until they were just about irreparable. This collection represents many pieces of my experience, my changes and changes in my communities and locations.
I left nothing on the cutting room floor. The smallest thread cuts and fabric scraps were stuffed into fabric pendants now hanging in the Storefront Window Gallery as a sort of resistance to loss.
Most of my work is about communication and inevitable loss of information, meaning, intention, and context. At the root of this installation is an attempt I've been making to listen to my ancestors. I often wonder if we understand each other, me in this time and place that is unfamiliar to them, and them only speaking in signs. What about you? Are you listening for someone who doesn't speak your language? What is lost in translation?
If you have answers (or questions), shoot me an email at iris.write.artist@gmail.com.
Many thanks to Dirt Palace for having me in their window :)
This window installation is up from mid-January through February, 2026 in the Dirt Palace Window Storefront Gallery in Olneyville Square, Providence, RI.