fabric art textile design

About

I draw my greatest inspiration from the nature I see in the world around me. As a native Californian, I have a deep appreciation for the mountains, forests and the ocean and I love to gather new inspiration as I travel the world.
— liberty worth
 

BIO

Liberty Worth is a multidisciplinary artist, poet, educator and public speaker. She is a commissioned artist making custom work for installations in homes and public settings - one piece which is permanently in the Cayton Childrens’ Museum in Santa Monica, CA. Liberty teaches creativity workshops and conferences across the US and internationally as well as teaching high school art part-time in Santa Monica, CA. Her work has shown in multiple countries and she was a part of the inaugural show for the Museum of Contemporary Art of the Americas (MOCAA) in 2022. She has published a book of art and poetry and has had her visual art published in multiple publications. Find her on Instagram at @libertyworthart

ARTIST STATEMENT

Textiles are intrinsic to the human experience. Every culture in the world creates textiles — to wear, to sleep inside of, to regard as art — therefore, handmade textiles carry the skills, memories, histories, values and stories of their makers. And yet, textile waste is a primary threat to ecological sustainability. As an artist, I contribute to the legacy of handmade textiles, creating beauty out of what has been discarded.  

I create textile wall paintings with cast-off or reused materials, often sourced from different industries. Committed to creating zero waste in my studio practice, I often receive large rolls of leftover fabric from fashion designers and interior decorators, and incorporate leftover clothing scraps such as edges or hems. I use everything from cotton, silk, wool, and linen to discarded face masks that I find on the street and sterilize.  These choices reflect my interest in sustainable design but also stimulate my imagination on a subconscious level. Whether I’m using corporate fabric samples or the clothing of someone’s history, I touch what has passed through so many other hands and connect with stories both known and imagined. 

Living in coastal California, my inspiration comes from water, things I see on the beach, the way I see light in different settings; landscapes, mountains, trees and the way things grow. I find myself searching for patterns and textures everywhere I go, using photography to stay observant. As a native Los Angelino, I love the combination of urban life, street art and the mashup of many cultures, together with some of the wildest and most beautiful natural environments in the world. I am curious about nature’s tendency to overtake what has been left unattended or abandoned. Nature demonstrates how brokenness and decay are part of the life cycle and can therefore be beautiful. I’m drawn to shapes that move and swirl —  trees branching, water flowing, shells spiraling, vortexes pulsing, life growing.  This planet is the greatest revelation of design and beauty; to honor nature and address my daily worries about human impact, I gather textile waste and mend its broken pieces into new, fragmented-yet-whole stories of belonging.

My work is defined by improvisational quilting techniques wherein fabric shapes are drawn onto fabric using a rotary cutter. This part of the process cannot be mapped or replicated as I do not use a pattern. I cut individual pieces intuitively and one at a time; therefore, I cannot predict what something will look like, only that it will have a directional swirling. As the shapes form and come together, I pick the colors in the same way, choosing from a wide array of possibilities, making a decision every few seconds. Color is a tool to play with; I’m particularly fascinated by how analogous hues influence and change one another. Color shapes perception, expands visual memories, and draws people in. 

Textiles beg to be touched; they are visceral, comforting and part of daily life. Even though my pieces are meant for walls and have been shown in galleries and museums, they are reminiscent of domestic space and carry with them an innate intimacy. Lately, I have invited people to gather around the universality of textiles, and collaborate in creating art together. This new aspect of my practice is not simply about making objects; it’s about co-creating an educational or empathetic experience wherein people can share memories, find comfort in the  nature of sharing, and therefore, feel their worlds a bit softened. 

Liberty Worth in the studio