Daiva Harris

I recall the fond memories of childhood - going to work with my father, an upholsterer, and sitting on the huge work tables surrounded by bolts and bolts of fabric; the days spent in my grandmother's hardware store passing the time in my favorite place - the small room where I would pore through piles of wallpaper books and play with the racks of colored paint chips; and the nights at home- watching as my father lay fabric out on the dining room table, marking it with his white chalk and the sound of the huge shears that seemed to glide through the material as he would cut, cut, cut. These experiences became the foundation for the way I view the world- as a plethora of patterns, textures and colors and the creative impulse within me that was nourished, found expression in fiber art and textile design. Fiber, more often than not, is associated with craft, while canvas and painting is associated with fine art. I use all of these to explore and challenge such boundaries. I have long been drawn to making felt.

I love the tactile quality of making the felt using the wet technique and its connection to many ancient cultures for its strength and durability. For me, the resulting surface, with its multitude of colored layers and intermingling of line and form, rivals painting. Manipulating the felt through cutting, placement, and plaiting is my way of discovering how best to showcase the fiber. In some pieces, the felted surface stands on its own terms; however, in other pieces, upon a closer look, there is a deliberate place where the fiber ends and a painted counterpart begins. From a distance the fiber and paint unify; where one ends and the other begins blurs. So, too, I believe, the arbitrary boundaries of craft and fine art. This is but where I began...

Our visual senses are bombarded daily with information and imagery. We each pull what is meaningful personally. For me it's in the beauty of the little things- the details. My art is but a personal reflection- If life is in the details, and for me it is, then so the details give life to my work. Where two colors meet, where a line meanders and leads the eye, these are the details that are meant to capture the viewer's attention. The dynamic is the opposite of what happens in an impressionist painting - where up close the details lose their reference and it is only when you step away that the image emerges. In my work, at a distance the overall "image" (in this case an abstract one) may seem to lose its clarity, while upon a closer look, the complexities of the details emerge. Remember, for me life - or art - is in the details.

Is it an ugly repair on an asphalt surface or a beautiful line that dances along the surface? reality or just perception? Beauty can be found anywhere, even in the most mundane and at first glance, seemingly bland or even ugly (all subjective anyway) of circumstances. It is up to each of us to look beyond the "big picture" and see the details. It is there that one can always find something of value, beauty or pleasure. This is where I journey...

An artist's statement - a trap? As I give definition to what I do, am I defined by it? Would it not better to maintain a sense of mystery? I can give hints to what inspires and motivates me- pattern, texture, color, the idea that the life we live is but a random sequence of experiences and the world around us seemingly on the edge of chaos we have but the illusion of being able to control. This view does not come from despair- rather a sense of freedom that allows one to create a world of one's choosing. I think these "views" appear in my work- on the surface the wool and yarns move randomly and I strive to organize the "chaotic" surface in a way that to me anchors and gives a predictable stability. I don't want the overall look of the piece to be what speaks to the viewer. Instead, I want the viewer to look closely at the surface and find there a detail that speaks to them- the beauty of where two colors meet or blend, what colors those are, where a yarn pops into view and leads the eye- somewhere there IS a detail that will resonate. What is the measure of success for my work? Having a strong practical side, I reason that while I love creating the work, how much can I really hold onto and store? So I put it out in the world. If my work resonates with but one person and the universe manages to put these two together - then I have been successful.