LC: You have said that you create your embroideries without a preliminary drawing or plan in mind, that they are free-hand drawings with thread. How did you arrive at using this medium in your artwork and can you describe how the embroidery process works for you?

CR: I never learned formally how to sew. I just always loved sewing, embroidering, and making sewn things ever since I was a kid. A few years ago, I kept wondering what it would be like to draw with thread on fabric. So, one day, I just picked up a needle and began, as did my obsession with embroidery. I don’t plan or draw out anything beforehand, as I love the element of surprise and amusement that comes with it, especially when it is such a tedious and slow process. My starting point is often with the head, distorted foot, or perhaps exaggerated lips. The rest feels like it just happens, and the story unfolds. Peep shows, carnivals, or circus and stages with performers are recurring themes.

LC: The unfinished edges of the fabric on which you embroider give the pieces an active sense of something that is in process and perhaps part of a larger magical universe. It may seem like a small detail, but how do you see the unfinished edges functioning in your work?

CR: I don’t feel that traditional even edges suit my work. I have done some on vintage linens which were once used as hand towels or runners, so they are being repurposed. They are finished with a border which works really well, but they are worn, soft, with their own history and again, not traditional or stiff.  Like the oddly cut or unfinished pieces, they bring their own quiet character to the piece. The unfinished edges are a way to show that the piece is still alive, still becoming.  They make it feel like part of a bigger world, something that goes beyond the fabric. Since I work intuitively, the images often feel like they are growing on their own, and the raw edges reflect that. They keep the work open, a little mysterious, like there’s more to the story that hasn’t yet been told.