The Women of Westport at the Depot Theatre located in the Westport, NY Amtrak Station show runs through January 1, 2010. The Women of Westport art opening and reception is tonight at 5:30 PM.
For a while, I have been wanting to produce fabric art that makes use of my photos, my artwork, and my kids' art. The other day, I happened across a site called Spoonflower that prints custom images on fabric. As a test, I have ordered a yard of the fabric above, created using a drawing of mine from 2001. I've also ordered a map that Peter drew as fabric. We'll see if it truly suits my purposes, but I am hopeful.
I have some very specific projects in mind if it does. The test fabric design comes from this drawing of mine:
My original intent had been to reproduce it as endpaper in a small press book.
I'm counting the days until my test yardage arrives.
When we were first sewing pieces together for the smallest block, I told her, "Never sew the pieces together unless you know what they mean."
She asked, "What do these pieces mean, mommy?"
I said, "These are angry men running in the grass. This one is the moon rising over the lake. This one is our house. This one is about thinking about the tiny little creatures in the water."
This is not a quilt make from a pattern, but from a method of construction. This is a method to be done fast, in love, in anger, and as a form of meditation: Use only scraps, as much as you can. Cutting from the big pieces of cloth should be a last resort. Make small blocks as though you were spelling words, combining letters. Then make bigger blocks as through you were making sentences.
The bigger blocks will not all be the same size. The easy way out would be to trim them so that they are and then sash them with a plain fabric to spread them out so they don't have to mean together. Don't take the easy way out.
Arrange the pieces on the floor in relation to one another. If some are too simple, cut them apart and sew them back together in a different order. Add strips of fabric to fill in the gaps, but using the same grammar that you have used so far.
Work fast, but observe things like seam allowances carefully. Because this kind of quilt is made in the heat of the moment, it is prone to structural flaws. Overwork the structure just a little to make sure it will all hang together in the end.
I did have to reach for the larger pieces for the outside edges, and needed a trip to the fabric store in Lake Placid, NY to get the batting and the backing.
Also, I did a small amount of applique using some of the better scraps -- 20 years ago I had experimented with hand-cutting rubber stamps and then printing on fabric with fabric paint.
I am going to tie the quilt, rather than hand-quilting. Elizabeth and I discussed it last night, and she wants the binding to be sunshine yellow like the backing.
It will be a gift for her seventh birthday.
"Defining Characteristics of the Posthuman & the Emergent Transition to the Transhuman: a Dystopian Scenario" by Kathryn Cramer
Posthumans communicate electronically. Pay no attention to the geek behind the handle.
A posthuman outnumbers a human: their emergent relationship is often predator and prey.
Humans are single, identifiable individuals. Posthumans are legion; they are multi-headed hydra. When fully developed, they contain multitudes, as many identities as they need.
Posthumans are the heroes of their own stories.
Humans may have several social identities, usually dependent on contexts such as work, parenting, gaming. Posthumans have more.
Humans are cursed with continuous lives; posthumans are not. Posthumans can go underground with a keystroke. Bingo, another identity!
Posthumans are lonely, they are looking for love and companionship and attention. Self-love does not ease the ache for another, more satisfying identity. Perhaps even as a superhero.
Posthumans are disinhibited.
Posthumans are thrill-seekers, enjoying the rush of the group demagogic skydive.
Posthumans live in constant fear of exposure as insignificant meat.
Posthumans argue against the unique identification of moral actors.
To protect them from predation, children are taught in elementary school how to become posthuman when going online. As with many top predators, by adolescence, these proto-posthumans with have learned the role of predator. Social networking plays a major and perhaps even Darwinian role in this socialization.
Posthumans hunt in legions. If no one else will hunt, posthumans become the legion.
Posthumans bear no responsibility for the past. For posthumans, electronic life is an organizing principle imposed on the past, which is chaos.
All the truth posthumans need is available online. And if it isn’t there, they can make something up and put it online.
For a human to seek a human's address and phone number, she looks in the phone book. For a human to seek a posthuman's address and phone number is stalking!
Humans privilege relationships formed in and founded on what they call "real life." Posthumans either deny a distinction between “real life” and online relationships, or disparage the idea that "meatspace" relationships have any privileged meaning.
Posthumans like to watch. They especially like to watch humans and other posthumans fighting.
Posthumans find inflicting pain easier than do humans. Posthuman demagogues easily replicate the results of the Milgram experiment again and again, since posthumans are drawn to such experiences.
Posthuman culture changes at a much more rapid pace than human culture, such that the social protocols of online communities less than five years old are often regarded as ancient and venerable traditions. Still, most bad ideas go back a long way.
Truth is the consensus of posthumans today. Tomorrow's truth will be different. There is no fact outside of constantly-shifting consensus truth.
Humans are limited to no more than 3 or 4 romantic entanglements at a time. Posthumans may pursue 15 or 20 simultaneously; those posthumans augmented by bots can pursue hundreds. For some posthumans, this can prove highly profitable, particularly those who specialize in widows and the elderly.
Posthumans can blogswarm from jail!
The posthuman condition is a happy state for registered sex offenders.
Posthumans have solved the problem of professional ethics: The ethics of posthumans are completely undiscussable. How dare you raise the issue of ethics!
Posthumans are becoming the natural prey of Intelligent Agents, currently in the service of humans and adept at parsing social networks and friends lists. Intelligent Agents perform due diligence.
A posthuman’s HR department already has the posthuman’s Charles Manson fanfic on file; is already aware of the disturbing themes in the posthuman’s Shirley Temple Second Life porn; the posthuman’s Flickr account has already been run by legal. Legal has advised management to let him dig himself in a little deeper.
Posthumans are losing security clearances for unexplained reasons.
Posthumans are now being investigated by the Securities and Exchange Commission.
Now posthumans lose their jobs.
Intelligent Agents take over. Truth is the consensus of corporately owned Intelligent Agent systems.
The era of Transhumanity is at hand.
History has ended. Posthumans have no history.
Copyright © 2009 by Kathryn Cramer.
Spent several hours at the waterfall in Wadhams painting the waterfall under the instruction of artist Kevin Raines. The painting went tiki-god on me when I got home and finished it. The rock needed a face.
Maze to be entered by parachute
beanstalk (This goes with my poem "What Stopped Jack?" that was published in Lady Churchill’s Rosebud Wristlet, #11, November 2002.
And a design for endpaper:
Here are the pieces, so what is the game?
With permission, Mary Koth Lutton used a photo of mine as part of the interior package of To Vermont with Love. Here's the cover:
. . . and here's the interior:
. . . and here's my original photo:
I gather it will soon be for sale via Amazon and at CDBaby, the independent music distributor.
Also, some of my other Lake Champlain work is coming out from a book on the art of Lake Champlain from a publisher in Vermont. I'm not sure what the pub date is.
I did this partly as an update to the previous entry, but really, for purely aesthetic reasons -- if your Internet connection can handle two YouTube videos at one -- you must absolutely must listen to this Talking Points Memo video of today's John McCain with Die Partei hat immer Recht (Lied der Partei) going in the background. (The McCain video is a little longer than the song, so let it start before starting Die Partei.) This makes a truly beautiful mashup.
Who knew that the GOP would converge with the East German Communists? The 21st century is a really wild place!
McCain seems to have suddenly discovered the Base and the Superstructure and all that.
Last evening, the kids and I went to Edward Cornell's art farm, Crooked Brook, just outside of Westport, NY. Elizabeth didn't understand how there could be an art farm. When asked, Cornell explained that it's a farm where the art grows.
Cheryl Morgan has noted that my kids and I are absent from Denvention. Ah, I'm busted playing hookey from the WorldCon. No, I'm not in Denver, I'm in Westport, NY painting my basement and painting pictures of Lake Champlain.