Discarded

I speak Russian - fluently and infrequently. It was my first language, but will forever remain my second. I will always love vodka, borscht, and braised cabbage. My memories of childhood are filled with rich imagery of my Russian culture.

During the Stalinist purges over 20 million Russians were killed by the communist regime. My grandfather, a successful fisherman with a fleet of boats, was told one night by a friend that the next day, his boats would be donated to the state and he would become a member of the communist party - or he would pay the consequences. He quickly gathered his family, his most precious possession, a compass, and sailed out of Russia, leaving behind his native land forever.

As a textile artist, I’ve saved what would have been my thrown away thread and fabric fragments and applied them to my collages and weavings. Using beads of wax and yarn, I’ve create images of my grandfather’s golden years, my father’s youth…all discarded.

Welcome Mat: Please Enter, Eat Some Borscht, and Kindly Marry Our Eldest Daughter

Wool Shawl, wooden spoons, handspun wool spirals, reupholstered stool. 2009

Bed with Nesting Pillows

Bedspread: fabric remnants, linen, silk, cotton, wool. Hand and machine stitched. 36" x 48"
Floor Mat/Nesting Slippers: cotton, wool, sheep skin. Hand felted and hand stitched. Spring 2009