On rainy days in New York…

umbrellas can seen on every street corner. As a New York City resident for thirty years, rainy days in the city are apart of life. As the unrelenting winds swarmed through the streets and sheets of rain-soaked people walked from place to place, one thing was always left out in the elements. The umbrella.

Piled together, they started to look like creatures, each moving differently as the wind and rain beat down on what was left of them. Trash cans began overflowing with color, with life. At least to me.

As a lifelong artist, I found the beauty in their colors, their intertwined broken ribs, and wings and decided that I’d fix a few instead of letting them pile up in the city dump.

.

I became interested…

in the idea of repairing broken umbrellas.  For me, making art is hard. It doesn’t feel leisurely. But fixing something with your hands does. As I began collecting umbrellas, that familiar spirit of creation came to, and I began to breathe life back into each one of them.

As a lifelong artist, I found the beauty in their colors, their intertwined broken ribs, and wings and decided that I’d fix a few instead of letting them pile up in the city dump. Breathing life back into an element is fun for me. This is truly art.

The materials on the umbrellas range from my watercolors cutup to French lace to old makeup.  Many of the materials are not durable or water-proof, making them a unique choice for an umbrella. I was interested in reusing materials I already had, much like the construction of a kimono and how it wastes nothing.