I wasn't surprised to learn than Rhanna had been given the First Place Award in Fiber at Woodland Park, nor that it was the fourth award she'd received so far last summer. She went on to accumulate awards at two more top shows in 2009, including the Award of Excellence at Winterfair in Cincinnati.

"While my images are made from cloth and thread, they have strong ties to painting in the way they are created. I build an image similarly to the way one works paint onto a canvas. I start with a ground layer of color (a plain piece of cotton in my case), and then start working in and out of that ground with small bits of pigment, which over time combine to form a cohesive whole. My 'pigment' is not applied with a paintbrush though - it is applied via thousands of very small, precisely cut and positioned bits of cottons, silks, satins and transparencies. As the fabric is laid down, layers of free form embroidery add to an intricate network of slowly developing line and color. Because each bit of fabric, and each sewn line, is a direct response to what has come before and is considered in relation to the whole, a richly toned, elaborate image results. This involved, contemplative application of the color allows me to develop and engage light and space in a way that is traditionally a painter's domain."

 
In a reflection of creativity through the generations, Rhanna collaborates with her son Wyatt to create cards and prints from her original fiber art. The gift items feature the poetry of her grandmother, Margaret H. Brooks.

I had the honor of learning about Mrs. Brooks on the Legacy.com website. Her obituary there clearly illustrates the inspiration she has been to her granddaughter.

Margaret H. Brooks was born in 1913 in Talas, Turkey to American medical missionaries. She attended Smith College, then Brown University to begin graduate work. She received her PhD in genetics from Johns Hopkins in 1958, and joined the faculty at Oklahoma State University - doing research, jointly publishing with her husband, and teaching.
 
"She constantly searched for knowledge and truth and loved to provoke and force people to find and defend what was important to them. She had a disdain for the comfortable, advocated a challenging life, loved heated discussion, and taught us all to love questioning and the questions themselves."

Until a few months before her death last year, Mrs. Brooks continued to write daily and "observe the ever changing and infinite subtleties of nature which inspired much of her poetry. She never stopped asking questions, searching for answers, and challenging others to open their minds to new ideas."

Mrs. Brooks wrote and published two books of poetry after retiring from the academic world in 1978. The following poem, from her book "Shatter of Weeds", is even more beautiful alongside Rhanna's artwork.


Could a cloud lie?

Great dollops of whipping cream clouds boiled up
from the south late this evening changing shapes
plump forms rolling over one another in play
huggable.

If you look away, of course you miss it all
the sky is clear until another storybook page
slips into view.

A child preparing to bed down under the stars
could see a bedtime tale unfold in the sleepy silence,
fresh air gently stroking his soft hair
and the faint hum of cicadas singing his lullaby.

Now I have no child to keep me company,
to remind me that stories at bedtime are essential,
be they read from a book or from the skies.

Yet I can tell myself stories, partly made up
and partly real, and fall asleep believing in the
"lived happily ever after" because

a cloud could never lie.

© Margaret H. Brooks 2007. From "Shatter of Weeds"