Amy Keefer
She/her
Amy Keefer
Omentum, 2024
Silk and Metal Thread, Gold Chain 13.75" x 13.75" x 1.5" framed
The omentum is a fold of tissue that connects and drapes over your abdominal organs, providing vital protection. It is an essential, yet forsaken part of anatomy in our culture. Belly fat is stored here, this temporal battleground of shame, insecurity and scrutiny. Devastated by my mother’s diagnosis of omental cancer this year, I sought to conjure her healing, and exalt her body, by methodically crafting a golden lace belly chain. A contemplative and meticulous practice, making needle lace dilates and stretches time. The resulting object holds the emotions of this critical, expanded season as well as our ineffable bond.
Amy Keefer
Mending the Veil, 2022
Darning stitch on knotted net. Linen and cotton thread with natural and unnatural pigments 24" x 22.5" x 24" installed
The last photograph of my father is a selfie I took of the two of us. It was taken just before I left for the airport, a tradition I adopted on one of the many visits I had made over the years. I would return eleven days later to say goodbye for the last time, but he would be unable to answer me. The photograph shows a distorted version of my father, so weak and exhausted that he strains to smile. It is the last visual record of him, but does not come close to conveying his being, or his personality, nor is it how I picture him in my mind’s eye. For this triptych, I pixelated the selfie, and divided it into three separate compositions. His ashes were divided into thirds among us, and I felt that the image should be similarly dispersed. I made knotted nets of linen, and filled individual pixels by mending them with a single strand of embroidery thread. Some of the thread is conventionally dyed, some is naturally dyed with tea, indigo or oak galls. Some carry the nail polish I wore to his funeral, the house paint from the home I live in that he never got to visit. Like dust, the pixels drift and rearrange, and by mending the image, he is visible again.
Amy Keefer
Mending the Veil, 2022
Darning stitch on knotted net. Linen and cotton thread with natural and unnatural pigments 24" x 22.5" x 24" installed
The last photograph of my father is a selfie I took of the two of us. It was taken just before I left for the airport, a tradition I adopted on one of the many visits I had made over the years. I would return eleven days later to say goodbye for the last time, but he would be unable to answer me. The photograph shows a distorted version of my father, so weak and exhausted that he strains to smile. It is the last visual record of him, but does not come close to conveying his being, or his personality, nor is it how I picture him in my mind’s eye. For this triptych, I pixelated the selfie, and divided it into three separate compositions. His ashes were divided into thirds among us, and I felt that the image should be similarly dispersed. I made knotted nets of linen, and filled individual pixels by mending them with a single strand of embroidery thread. Some of the thread is conventionally dyed, some is naturally dyed with tea, indigo or oak galls. Some carry the nail polish I wore to his funeral, t
