something yet to be

Something Yet To be
encaustic and mixed media
6×6 inches
available for purchase

What’s been running through my head in regards to the new paintings that I have been working on: Mending. Stitching. Joining. Creating. Sewing. Threads. Binding. Connecting. Pieceing. History. Generations. Past. Future. Present. Family. Home. Identity. Shelter. Domesticity. Motherhood. Life. Patching. Weaving. Fragmented. Whole…

A few years ago I read the book The Art of Mending by Elizabeth Berg. I have a journal where I write down phrases, sentences, or paragraphs of things that strike me while I’m reading. This was one of them.

“As for mending, I think it’s good to take the time to fix something rather than throw it away. It’s an antidote to wastefulness and to the need for immediate gratification. You get to see a whole process through, beginning to end, nothing abstract about it. You’ll always notice the fabric scar, of course, but there’s an art to mending: If you’re careful, the repair can actually add to the beauty of the thing, because it is testimony to its worth.” ~Elizabeth Berg


  1. Like the thoughts of mending and repairing in these last two pieces and posts. Also, there seems to be a new lightness in these last pieces. They are beautiful.

    You have prompted me to keep a journal next to my bed for my nighttime reading. I always tell myself I will remember to write down something in the morning — I never do.

  2. such a lovely poetic piece, and post Bridgette. there is a magical quality to it, for me. scars are the reminders of wounds mended; stitched and cared for with tenderness, their mending can be something of great beauty.

    in complete contrast to my word verification, which has me laughing:

  3. this is a lovely piece, bridgette..i did not see a price when i clicked on “purchase”… i love what is running through your head, and elizabeth berg’s thoughts on mending…

  4. A lovely share Bridgette. It reminds me, both the fabulous Berg quote and your wonderfully magical little piece, of a museum installation seen years ago. Hanging on the gallery wall was a full size white cotton bed sheet that had been lovingly mended over the years by sisters in a nunnery. White on white. Gentle meandering tiny repairs and patches that when viewed ‘as art’ had such power and unpredictable beauty that it stopped everyone and viewers stood in rapt silence.

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