The Evolving Nature of Completion

In 2023, I completed Mind Wanderings Over Tumbling Rocks, a textile piece deeply connected to my personal journey through grief and healing. The foundation of the work consists of textile appliqué rocks – each one stitched during the pandemic – a time of collective stillness that, for me, was intertwined with personal loss and trauma. These rocks, made from hand-painted and dyed fabrics, and stitched on linen, became meditative objects, a way to process emotions and find solace through the rhythmic act of stitching. Rocks have always been a source of inspiration for me, both as physical objects I collect and as metaphors for endurance and resilience.

This past week, as I prepared for an upcoming exhibition of my work in France this April, I revisited Mind Wanderings Over Tumbling Rocks. While I had once considered it finished, something about it had always lingered in the back of my mind – an intuition that it needed a little more. And so, I began stitching once again, adding silhouettes of rocks to the composition. The addition was subtle yet transformative, giving the piece a sense of cohesion that I hadn’t realized it was missing. Now, it finally feels whole (after I add one or two more hand-stitched outlines).

This experience reaffirmed something I’ve come to understand over the years: completion is often fluid. A piece can feel finished in one moment, only for time and distance to reveal a new perspective. Sometimes, we need to live with a work for a while before we recognize what it truly needs. And that’s okay. Art is not static; it evolves as we do.

There is often hesitation around revisiting completed work, as though we are breaking some unspoken rule by altering what was once declared “done.” But in reality, art – especially textile art – is alive. It carries our emotions, our histories, and our changing perspectives. If a piece calls us back, asking for more, why shouldn’t we listen?

I share this because I know many artists struggle with the idea of reworking a finished piece. We fear we might “ruin” it or that we should have seen its potential the first time around. But creativity is not linear; it is a process of discovery, growth, and reflection. Revisiting a piece is not a sign of failure – it is an affirmation of our ongoing dialogue with our work.

Mind Wanderings Over Tumbling Rocks was finished in 2023. And yet, this week, I stitched just a little more. Now, I can say with certainty—it is finished. For now.

Until I write again, enjoy your week. I’m off to grab needle and thread ..

Ana

PS: Not sure why this piece is so difficult to photograph. The colours go all wrong. But I think I finally got these quite close …

PS1: The quilting was done by my friend Linda Schmidt. She did a wonderful job! I added a few more lines on the background of the rocks.