We were lucky to catch up with Kimberly English recently and have shared our conversation below.

Kimberly, thanks for taking the time to share your stories with us today When did you first know you wanted to pursue a creative/artistic path professionally?

When I became interested in art in high school, there was never really this “AHA!” moment – I just couldn’t imagine pursuing anything else. I went to school at Savannah College of Art and Design not knowing what I wanted to major in, but knowing that I needed to be there. I quickly found the Fibers department, at the nudging advice of several of my professors, and soaked up everything like a sponge. When I studied abroad in France in 2014, there were some looms in our studio, but no weaving courses were currently being offered. I think I traded an older classmate a bottle of wine to show me how to weave one evening. I remember the feeling that night of my whole world opening up. It just felt like the way my brain worked; like a language I already spoke. I prepared my first warp on a folding table and used a comb as a beater – just using things around me to figure out each step. I fell in love with the rhythm and the ritual of the entire weaving process. I felt like I made a commitment before coming back to school, that I was going to follow this technique seriously, whatever that meant.

Kimberly, before we move on to more of these sorts of questions, can you take some time to bring our readers up to speed on you and what you do?

I am a fiber-based artist living in western North Carolina. My work is conceptually driven – sometimes personal, sometimes research-based, sometimes both. Cloth, for me, is so rewarding to work with because folks don’t suspect that it could be something powerful. It’s soft and warm, but it’s also primal and necessary. I love that it’s human-like, in that it sags with time and touches you back when you interact with it. I think that because of this, fabric is the ultimate trojan horse in talking about big abstract ideas that get to the heart of the human condition.

Lately in my more conceptual work, I’ve been exploring the relationship between belief systems and human survival. I’m interested in the idea of the “progress” of humanity as evidenced by the objects that we make, and I’m thinking about textiles as a metaphor for human production in general. Weaving today is still often recognized as craft rather than art. I’m excited to be tip-toeing the line as an artist who works in a craft medium because textiles can speak both languages – function and form. Cloth can symbolize security, the body, and time; it can also symbolize labor, violence, and it can be a symbol of our society at large. I enjoy exploring these big ideas of progress and industrialization through my materials because textiles, in my opinion, really do have a distinct ability to convey a sense of intimacy and story-telling.

Do you think there is something that non-creatives might struggle to understand about your journey as a creative? Maybe you can shed some light?

Something I hear frequently from clients, friends, and students is something to the effect of, “I wish I had the passion that you did.” While this notion of obsession or inspiration is true sometimes, most often it’s not. Going into the studio is sometimes like pulling teeth, but I know that once I’m there I’ll be glad I am. To me, a fulfilling creative practice relies more on discipline and pushing yourself rather than riding the passionate or inspired moments. We choose this life, not because it’s easy, but because the reward is so deeply intrinsic that it’s difficult to put into words. It’s a happiness that is earned.

What can society do to ensure an environment that’s helpful to artists and creatives?

My work is really about labor, accumulation, and progress, so I do have some thoughts about how these ideas are reflected in society. I think that simply put, we have too much stuff. If we were to practice more mindful consumerism, we would not only have objects and goods that we were proud to own, but we’d also have more space and money to invest in things that connect us to one another, like art.

It’s generous (and free!) to share artists’ work. If something moves you, challenges you, or inspires you, but you can’t afford it, help share it with the world. This could mean a share on social media or it could mean actually, literally, talking about a piece of art that you find intriguing. Taking the time to let an artist know that their work resonates with you is profound, as well.

Lastly, take your kids to museums. I am a teacher at a few local colleges, and you would be surprised at how many students feel uncomfortable talking about artwork. It’s vulnerable and it’s intimidating. But what if we were taught from a young age that “Maybe you’re right – maybe this piece is about xyz…”, or “Did you think about this one from this perspective?” Artwork is meant to be considered, even contemplated. I think that exposing children to the nuances of art regularly can help familiarize them with feelings of recognition and creative connection.

Contact Info:

• Website: www.kimberly-english.com
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/kimberly__english/
• Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100071921625251

Image Credits
Colby Rabon Steve Mann