I’ve been participating in SciArt September for a few years now. Glendon Mellow and Liz Butler came up with some excellent prompts yet again this year, each week on a different theme: horror, sci-fi, fantasy, folklore, and the end. I shared older work based on all the daily prompts.
Horror
Day 1: fang
An excerpt from my video poem ossa . ora (2014), featuring my son’s baby teeth and my animated haiku poetry.
Day 2: weeping
My SciArt embroidery eye poem (2016), showing the venations of the eye with a circular poem.
Day 3: grim
From my symptomatology series: paresthesia (hand 1) (2016). My first ME/CFS symptom was tingling/paresthesias over my entire body. This was my first attempt at depicting it in embroidery.
Day 4: cursed
The symptomatology of ME/CFS sometimes feels like a curse. For this embroidery, body map (2016), I stitched my ME/CFS symptoms freehand as I felt them over the course of a few months.
Day 5: claws
My hands are almost always tingling, and sometimes they ache and curl into slight claws as shown in this ME/CFS symptomatology embroidery, push, pull, & tingle (2018).
Day 6: devouring
ME/CFS causes my tongue to tingle and sometimes ache. This symptomatology embroidery is paresthesia (tongue 2) (2018).
Day 7: rot
Cancer is a kind of rot. Here is a close up of the uterine polyp that was diagnosed as stage IA endometrial cancer while I stitched this piece a couple years ago. A hysterectomy removed all the cancer and my checkups have been cancer-free since. Bleeding Vessel (2022).
Science Fiction
Day 8: illuminated
This heart detail from my recent vagus nerve embroidery shows the glow I feel around my heart while meditating. From the wandering ghost (2024).
Day 9: origin
This is my original mitosis embroidery sampler. I recently did a seasonal set of four of these and am writing a pattern for this piece. mitosis sampler (2016).
Day 10: scavenger
My studio is full of all sorts of anatomy-related things. My friend James scavenged this plaster spine and pelvis from a dumpster beside a recently closed chiropractor’s office.
Day 11: stellar
This symptomatology embroidery, stars within, stars without (2017), shows the tingling/paresthesias I currently feel on and around my upper body.
Day 12: clone
My autumn themed mitosis embroidery sampler (2024), for which I’m writing a pattern.
Day 13: electrified
My symptomatology embroidery, she was tributaries (2016), showing the electrical storm I feel in my brain from ME/CFS.
Day 14: futurist
Now that it’s autumn, spring feels very far in the future. Here’s my spring mitosis embroidery sampler (2024).
Fantasy
Day 15: beastly
In the poetry for my liver embroidery, tethered by fluid & ligaments (2023), I imagine my liver as a fleshy, tailed beast.
Day 16: sword
A scalpel is like a tiny sword. Here is the cut edge of the mesometrium of the uterus in my embroidery Bleeding Vessel (2022).
Day 17: glitter
I wove gold thread through the recurrent laryngeal nerve of my vagus nerve embroidery since it feels bright when I am in a ventral vagal state. Detail from the wandering ghost (2024).
Day 18: knighted
In the 17th to 19th centuries, an embroiderer might be called “a knight of the needle”. Here’s my current embroidery in progress as of 18 September 2024: an iliac vein.
Day 19: royal
In my imaging, my uterus was crowned in a huge fibroid so I used shiny beads to give it some glamour. Detail from Bleeding Vessel (2022).
Day 20: enchanted
I stitched some asemic writing on this needle-felted finger bone (2020), making it look like an enchanted object.
Day 21: destiny
Some of the anatomical decorations in my studio serve as memento mori. It may seem macabre to point out that every one of us is destined to die, but it’s also a fact that we must all accept eventually.
Folklore
Day 22: hidden
Our tongues are usually hidden in our mouths, and tingling is an invisible symptom. I’ve made both visible in this embroidery, paresthesia (tongue 1) (2016).
Day 23: orphan
The etymology of orphan is from the Greek “orphos” (bereft). When I could no longer sing because of air hunger & fatigue I was bereft. This is she breathed (2018), in which I explore ease of breath.
Day 24: mirror
Mitosis/cell division is a kind of mirroring. This is the winter version of my mitosis embroidery sampler (2024).
Day 25: underworld
When I have post-exertional malaise (PEM), the hallmark symptom of ME/CFS, I feel like I am sinking down to the underworld. neuraesthenia (2017).
Day 26: lost
This embroidery of cell division was ruined because the thread I used didn’t have the dye set. Here it is before I washed it and then gave it to my sister-in-law to integrate into her quilting. cell division (2016).
Day 27: motherly
The uterus is the most motherly of organs. Bleeding Vessel (2022).
Day 28: secret
There is a secret shell inside our heads, listening to secrets whispered to us. This cochlea/inner ear is titled nave of vibration (2017).
The End
Day 29: happily ever after
This vagus nerve embroidery explores polyvagal theory (PVT) sensations. PVT has helped reduce some of my ME/CFS symptoms which gives me hope for the future. the wandering ghost (2024).
Day 30: epilogue
My current embroidery in progress as of 30 September 2024: an iliac vein with a stent based on the imagery from my venogram earlier this year.
Thank you for coming on this year’s SciArt September journey with me! Forthcoming is a long post about my process for the Day 29 embroidery above, the wandering ghost.