Over time, the components (the scraps, the stitch, the symbols, the names of things) I use to create a stitched cloth become the story themselves as they touch and overlap. I always assumed that how they combined would eventually bring forth new form. I've been at it long enough to be witness to that as an evolving personal truth. I have named a lot of the stitches and methods so they become a lot like story characters in a way. Friends, acquaintances, traveling companions. Then, even when I just talk about my process, a story unfolds. I am happy to see this taking more apparent shape over time. Eye-Dea, this fits. Sort of a merging of thought and visual presence. Finding oneself in one's work.
So in short. I feel as I explain the making, I am telling a story. The story of the cloth is the story in the cloth. And the cloth is self. Telling story. Cloth itself. Cloth, it's self