REBIRTH: AN ARTIST BLOOMS, FROM HEART TO HAND

Natalie Sullivan, in conversation with Elizabeth Meggs

Elizabeth Meggs
16 min readJan 11, 2022
A person with blond hair cut in a bob, wearing all black, stands in front of a stone-walled structure. On the ground, daffodils and other flowers are in bloom. The person holds a rectangular work of art that is a weaving made of cream, lavender, purple, aqua, and yellow colors. Concentric circles form the center of the composition, with yellow and cream bands of color radiating from the circular forms in the center.
“Bloom 1”, wool & cotton on metal frame, 24" x 24", 2021, Natalie Sullivan

Natalie Sullivan is an artist and full-time parent residing on Powhatan land known as Richmond, Virginia, in the United States. She grew up in Winchester, Virginia, and studied at Virginia Tech and Virginia Commonwealth University, before receiving a MFA from Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, New York. After a dozen years working in a demanding job, she has returned to a regular creative practice via weaving and fiber art. In 2021, Sullivan has had a prolific explosion of creativity. Her work considers what we can discover from slowing down and looking closely, using fiber’s long connection to humanity as a way to embody belonging in a place between social practice and the natural world. Her fiber practice explores the connectivity of the human hand to nature, incorporating handspun yarn with other fibers, weaving them together to evoke plants or imagery that is almost, but never fully, recognizable. She strives for a simultaneous sense of playfulness and unease using recognizable material, scale, or form to trigger a context for viewing, but inserting an element into each piece meant to question that very recognition and exactly what is being viewed. All images courtesy Natalie Sullivan.

EM: In recent years, you have had what I think of as “the artistic renaissance of Natalie Sullivan”, or an era of inspired and prolific artistic rebirth, because your creativity has flourished as you’ve become very involved in making fiber art, most specifically frame weaving, as well as using a spindle to spin thread. Please describe this explosion of creativity in terms of the work you’ve been doing.

NS: I love the way you put it– “an era of inspired and prolific artistic rebirth.” I had definitely been feeling the need for creative exploration bubbling up here and there over the last several years. I would say it was a good decade that I didn’t make anything other than a few random projects. Testing the creative waters a few years ago, I thought I wanted to paint, but painting just wasn’t a good fit for my lifestyle so I stumbled onto weaving. I had seen a local Richmond artist, Emily Nicolaides, doing circular weavings around 2018/2019 and was really drawn to them and had even signed up to do a workshop with her that ended up being canceled. So, early in the pandemic I finally got around to trying her online “Year of Circles” classes and just loved the weaving process so much. After practicing for a few months I was bursting with ideas and started making weavings that felt so fresh and exciting to me creatively.

There is so much I could say about weaving. It is slow and meditative. You get to make creative decisions, but you also get long stretches of repetitive hand motions that are so satisfying. The material you work with is so tactile and rich in colors and textures, so there is definitely a sense of calm. I would say it is akin to petting a furry animal. The yarn I use really informs so much of my creative process. I find it so inspiring! I also love that your palette is somewhat limited, unlike with painting where the sky is the limit with mixing colors, which I always found a bit overwhelming (I was the person to put on too many clashing flavors at the frozen yogurt toppings buffet).

All of this excitement has led me to be inspired to share my work. I just love that the process of making has brought back all my adolescent-like feelings of openness and joy and exploration.

A circular form, hung on a white wall, that supports woven materials such as wool or second hand fibers. The material is woven into organic and floral forms such as leaved and blooms, with colors symbolic of foliage and flowers.
“Garden Blooms 1”, wool & second hand fibers, metal frame, 18" x 18", 2021, Natalie Sullivan

EM: You recently told me that you felt kind of empty after going to graduate school for your MFA at Pratt Institute in New York City. I think a lot of people can relate to that sentiment. What do you think made you feel that way?

NS: Yes, for sure. I do think I was creatively drained after Pratt, it’s so much intensive making and critique that I needed time to process and figure out what made me feel creative excitement again. Like, all the critiques and judgments really drain that spark for me as a highly sensitive person. I had gone to Pratt for my MFA right out of undergrad, in part because I didn’t know what the next step would look like and probably in part because I was afraid I would lose steam on painting if I didn’t. Well, I did lose steam on painting at Pratt, which I think was a really good thing and led to some good “playful” work. But after graduating, I still didn’t know what I was going to do. Only now I had a lot of debt and was in NYC and wanted to stay so I had to support myself.

A rectangular metal support is covered in woven materials that create a yellow, orange, and beige moth with wings spread, on a mostly green woven background.
“Moth 1", wool & second hand fibers, metal frame, 10" x 12", 2021, Natalie Sullivan

EM: How has letting go of things that may have haunted you affected your artistic practice?

NS: It is a lot of work and surrender that led toward my more in-depth conversations with my ego… but somehow in digging myself out of a personally depleting time and reassessing how I was making decisions opened up so much space for creative exploration. I have been working to change my patterns, surrender to what is and answer honestly to myself what is important to me. I’ve been so affected by trying to do what was right, or expected of me. We are social beings, we survive by being in a community, but there is such a lack of processing hard and heavy things in community that we are all suffering alone more and in new ways in this digital age.

A nonrepresentational woven artwork hangs from dowels on white walls that meet at a corner (so, the two dowels are on adjacent walls). The weaving connects the two dowels, in colors of cream, blue, grey green, pink, and lavender. The weaving hangs in an arc in space between the two walls, each side merging into solid weaving toward the top, where the dowel is located.
“Connected”, wool, handspun yarn, wooden dowel, dimensions variable, two connected pieces, 8" x 30", 2021, Natalie Sullivan
A semicircular form that is woven, made from cream, green, and brown wool, hangs on a wall above a plant, a book, and a metal triangular sculpture. The weaving includes green and brown bits of yarn emerging from a main cream weaving, as if new organic growth is emerging.
“New Growth”, wool on metal frame, 18" x 10", 2021, Natalie Sullivan

EM: A lot of people have shut down during the pandemic, but your creativity seems to have significantly expanded in an inspiring manner. To what do you attribute this amplified creativity? What changes in your own life may have helped you evolve to this point?

NS: For me it was kind of a perfect storm, I had a baby under 1, a toddler, I had resigned from my job to spend more time with my baby and everything shut down. Any resources I had been using to cope were gone. I was pretty underwater and just needed something that I could turn to make me feel happy consistently (and to be fair there was a lot of tv and sleep in this phase). I had also really been wanting to do some creative practice for a while leading up to the pandemic, so I had the circle weaving videos in my back pocket as something I’d get around to someday. I was super fortunate that my husband Ian was already working remotely and was able to be pretty flexible and involved as we all adjusted to the new normal. It just sort of simmered for months as I trudged through and I feel like 2021 was the real explosion of creative energy for me.

Vibrant blue and orange yarn are woven on a pyramid-shaped metal base in organic forms. The orange appears to be inside the blue weaving, mimicking a geode that has been sliced open.
“Geode”, wool on metal frame, 12" x 4" x 4", 2021, Natalie Sullivan

EM: What aspects of weaving speak to you?

NS: It has shown me how much energy I have in my hands! I’ve always been fidgety, but man does my mind process better when my hands are busy. I also love that I can sit in my cozy chair and work even when my body is tired. It’s also really friendly to my lifestyle with little kids, the biggest concern is making sure the little ones don’t get the scissors, and it’s pretty easy for me to start and stop (i’m not counting rows or anything). But that’s all practical. I love everything, I love the yarn, the textures, the tactile nature of it. I love the rich history, the fact that it has been around basically forever and we are still doing interesting explorations with weaving and spinning. I love that you can get in a meditative state by doing the same motion over and over, but at the end you have something to look at (I love meditation, but there is something so satisfying about having something to show for your time). I love that there are so many avenues of exploration with fiber, so many techniques you can learn and explore. I’ve barely scratched the surface!

Organic forms and natural colors are woven on an embroidery hoop that is screwed into a wooden stand. On the top, the woven forms indicate plants such as lichen or moss, while on the bottom, yarn hangs below as if from a root system that has been unearthed.
“Fiber Terrarium 1” (front view), wool & second hand fibers, embroidery stand, 12" x 12" x 11", 2021, Natalie Sullivan
Organic forms and natural colors are woven on an embroidery hoop that is screwed into a wooden stand. On the top, the woven forms indicate plants such as lichen or moss, while on the bottom, yarn hangs below as if from a root system that has been unearthed.
“Fiber Terrarium 1” (back view), wool & second hand fibers, embroidery stand, 12" x 12" x 11", 2021, Natalie Sullivan

EM: What role do intuition and playfulness have in your artwork?

NS: Such a big role! I’ve always had a really strong sense of intuition, and a deep knowing that I need to find my inner voice and listen to it (of course not always successfully). In my day-to-day life I thrive on routine and having a mental plan about what to expect and what needs to be accomplished. So in my creative practice I thrive on pushing boundaries, not following the rules, surprising myself, trying the unexpected, balancing between recognition and allusion toward something you can’t quite place so your mind wonders about what the possibilities of the unknown might hold. Mostly I want to amuse myself, I want something rich and beautiful, but that still makes me think about all the big life questions that humans have always loved to ponder.

An oil painting in a horizontal or landscape format includes primarily red and yellow amorphous forms, with some dark or contrasting colors and white forms emerging from the red and yellow. The forms have an expansive quality, similar to a supernova.
“Supernova”, oil on panel, 24" x 48", 2005, Natalie Sullivan

EM: Color is a significant facet of your work. What does color mean to you?

NS: This is a great question, because it’s making me dig deep and think about why I choose colors… I think when I was painting I struggled with getting colors that I wanted, I wasn’t a master at mixing and layering, so I don’t think I ever got the colors I craved in that medium. Actually, I made this painting I loved in undergrad that was sort of like a supernova and was lots of thin layers of color and I absolutely loved it. And it got pretty slammed in critique I think. I just remember looking back at it, that I was discouraged from pursuing that path in my paintings. I actually was thinking about that painting a lot before I found weaving. That path was calling me back as a way into creative exploration. So now I’m including a photo of it and going to talk about it for this question (ha!). The painting is mostly really bright pink and yellow with smaller sections of deep purples and blues. I love bright rich colors, and bright pink is one of my favorites. One of my favorite things about yarn is that your colors are limited. It’s so much easier for me to hold up the yarns and get an idea of how they’ll interact than it was when the sky was the limit with paint.

This is a woven image of a desert landscape, with brown and green tones on the ground, green cacti, a blue mountain, and a vibrant sunrise or sunset with bright blue, lavender, pink, orange, and yellow yarn. The weaving is on an elliptical form with a vertical orientation.
“Arizona Landscape”, wool & second hand fibers, metal frame, 24" x 18", 2021, Natalie Sullivan
This is a close up, or detail photo) of a woven image of a desert landscape, with brown and green tones on the ground, green cacti, a blue mountain, and a vibrant sunrise or sunset with bright blue, lavender, pink, orange, and yellow yarn. The weaving is on an elliptical form with a vertical orientation.
“Arizona Landscape” (detail), wool & second hand fibers, metal frame, 24" x 18", 2021, Natalie Sullivan

EM: Do you feel personally connected to the long human history of fiber arts, and if so, in what ways?

NS: Yes and no. I’ve been feeling this exploration tugging at me for a while. Coming into fiber arts, I had very limited knowledge about the craft’s history and traditions. But at the same time, it’s so deeply embedded in the history of humanity. It’s almost so vast that it is overwhelming. I like story, and I’m curious, so just sort of naturally bits of knowledge are seeping in through podcasts or a Google here and there. I also recently joined my local spinners guild and there is so much knowledge held in that group! I actually think this exploration is leading me toward researching my personal ancestry and using that as a connection point to its history. I’ve been feeling really energized by the idea of making weaving as commissions that are sort of collaborative in that the person that will display the piece is involved in its conception. I’m trying to figure out how to give prompts to the people I’m working with so they can tap into mindfulness, memory, connection– something that offers a useful touchstone in their space to bring them back to a memory or state of mind that gives a reset or access-way to emotion.

This is a photo of a square format weaving of a landscape scene. Autumn trees in colors of orange, ochre, and rust, line a pond’s shore while also being reflected in the pond. The sky is woven from hues of pale blue and blue grey, with white clouds streaks. This is also reflected in the pond. A simple cream-colored building with two windows is on the shoreline, and is reflected in the pond.
“Virginia Tech Duck Pond”, wool & second hand fibers, metal frame, 24" x 24", 2021, Natalie Sullivan

EM: The art world, particularly institutions such as museums and commercial galleries, can be notoriously exclusive, and by that I mean it excludes major groups of artists, especially women. Recent studies show that 87% of permanent collections at major art museums in America are by men. How does this affect you?

NS: I’m not sure how to process this one… It’s so deeply in our culture, and I think there is a shift slowly happening. I’m trying to focus on doing what feels right and true for me, and apply to some things and just be open to where it leads.

A nonrepresentational weaving, with hues symbolic of the landscape at the beach is created in a varied and complex texture across an amorphous, organic, slightly elliptical wooden frame. The orientation is vertical.
“Beach Dreams 3”, wool & second hand fibers, hand bent wood frame, 13.5” x 9" x 2", 2021, Natalie Sullivan

EM: Are the craft and fiber communities more nurturing and supportive than the fine arts communities you’ve encountered?

NS: I’m going to preface this with the fact that I have made some amazing friends at Pratt that continue to support me and help me grow.

The community I’ve found on Instagram has been amazingly welcoming and supportive. I would love to have a local group to meet and talk with about art (hit me up RVA artists), but Instagram has definitely offered me a community to talk and share with that has been so helpful and inspiring. I was recently chatting with an e-friend about how nice it is to be in a warm, gentle community compared to art school, which felt much more aggressive and cut-throat. Critiques often had an element of tearing you down so you can learn, and upon reflection I can see how counterproductive that is. It’s really difficult to let go of what our ego tries to tell us, and it’s really good to practice identifying the voice of our own egos, and try to be sensitive to other’s egos. I crave a calm environment, so I’m somewhat conflict averse, but I do believe in honest sharing and in my own life have been working a lot on my “phrasing” as I can sometimes come off too harsh without intending any animosity.

Organic forms and natural colors are woven on a hand bent wooden frame that rests on wooden curved legs. On the top, the woven forms indicate plants such as lichen or mushrooms or moss, while on the bottom, yarn hangs below as if from a root system that has been unearthed.
“Fiber Terrarium 3”, wool & second hand fibers, hand bent wood frame, 7" x 8" x 7", 2021, Natalie Sullivan

EM: How do you feel about the hard push for aspiration and productivity that’s so prevalent in today’s world?

NS: It is so stifling! Down time and “play” time is so critical, and our society really doesn’t value it enough. There are so many ways to lead a good and satisfying life, but the aspirational culture focuses our attention on things that aren’t going to bring us joy. Sure, new shiny things make us happy! But not for long if there aren’t other things fueling you. We all want to feel like we are good at something, or that we can do something we really enjoy and not have to prove anything in particular to enjoy it. I was listening to the audiobook “Braiding Sweetgrass” recently and the author Robin Wall Kimmerer — a mother, scientist, decorated professor, and enrolled member of the Citizen Potawatomi Nation (description via her website). She talks about gift giving so beautifully in the book, about giving without expectation of anything in return and receiving gifts graciously. And how if you think about this in regards to harvesting or foraging, as nature giving you a gift, you will naturally be more likely to only take what you need, and with gratitude, and that sentiment has really resonated. What do I really need to be satisfied?

A weaving, done on a semicircular frame, is made in colors and textures that suggest natural groundcover and dirt. Small forma in bit of bright colors emerge, indicating wildfloers growing on the groundcover. Yarn hangs below as if from a root system that has been unearthed.
“Wildflowers”, wool & second hand fibers, metal frame, 24" x 12", 2021, Natalie Sullivan

EM:What changes do you hope to see in our world and culture during your lifetime?

NS: Oh, there are so many. Lately I’ve been finding myself wanting to talk about how much we could change things by better supporting pregnant people and young children. (P.S. as I typed this I wrote women and went back and changed it to pregnant people b/c I also believe making everything less gendered would be super helpful.) I want to see all of it, better care for people having sex, pregnant people, mandatory paid parental leave (so important that people have and use this time), subsidised childcare starting much earlier, better pay/support for teachers, more cultural support so parents can take time to be present in the schools more often, more free/subsidized college options, it really just all builds on itself.

A weaving, done on a semicircular frame, is made in colors and textures that suggest natural groundcover and dirt. Small forma in bit of bright colors emerge, indicating wildfloers growing on the groundcover. Yarn hangs below as if from a root system that has been unearthed.
“Wildflowers” (detail), wool & second hand fibers, metal frame, 24" x 12", 2021, Natalie Sullivan

EM: What advice do you have for anyone who may be in a place of creative stasis or depression?

NS: Oh man, first off that it is so normal! I’ve been thinking about authenticity a lot lately, and it feels really abstract to me because it is informed by so many things. How do you listen to your true/best self? I’ve been thinking about how clouded my thoughts can be by cultural expectations, or doing what you think someone you care about would want you to do. It takes a lot of experiences to start to get to know your true/best self, and it takes all of the experiences, good and bad, to learn. I’m relating deeply to cycles lately, and we go through them in so many ways in our lives and we have so many reminders of them all around us.

I just listened to the podcast On Being with Katherine May, and basically everything they said was about cycles and their importance, I found myself saying, “YES, EXACTLY” to everything they talked about!

A woman, standing in front of white paneled doors, holds a weaving that hangs from a dowel in front of her body. It appears that she has no clothes on behind the weaving, although the weaving covers her body. The weaving mimics the curves and forms a human torso, seemingly female, and has thick rope-like segments of wool roving looped and loosely woven to create a thick texture. The wool roving is a cream or beige color.
“Self Portrait, My Body is Mine”, wool roving, cotton, wooden dowel, 30" x 23" x 9", 2021, Natalie Sullivan

EM: You recently completed a powerful and highly personal project titled “Self-Portrait, My Body Is Mine”, that delves into your motherhood journey, body acceptance, inclusivity, and confidence. Would you please describe this project and its sources of inspiration?

NS: This was a piece that felt so vulnerable to share, but I really wanted to share it and it was so amazing to receive the outpouring of support and relatability that came with putting it out there (online).

This piece is a neck to stomach nude body woven very thick with soft, squishy wool roving. The idea for this piece had been in my mind for a while before I sat down to make it. Early in the pandemic I was at a very low point emotionally, I had been struggling even before the pandemic, but as my amazing friend, artist and member of my 3-family pandemic pod Jackie Ann May puts it “The universe has a way of showing you the same lesson louder and louder until you pay attention.” I think the pandemic was a really strong spotlight on the hard shit. As a brand new parent I finally moved away from NYC after 10 years. I was trying to figure out how to parent, be in a relationship, have a career, take care of myself, be a family member, friend, and everything all at once. I was always really good at making a plan, taking action, being available, but as a parent to young kids, they need SO MUCH. And it’s wonderful, and I wanted all of it, but it is such an adjustment and the support we have culturally is so lacking, and I consider myself so fortunate and with a really good support system and resources.

So yeah, somewhere in the birth of my two children I went through a death and rebirth cycle. Everything was so different than it had been a few short years ago, and I needed to adapt in a way that worked for me and my family, and it took what felt like a long while to go through all of that. Part of that was dealing with my body. It had been one of the biggest themes in my life for as long as I can remember, always in the back of my head about how my body would affect my ability to succeed at things I wanted. I don’t think I ever really thought my body was bad or wrong, but culture is so pervasive and it really affects us all. There are so many people that talk about this more eloquently than I can (I’ll refer you to Aubrey Gordon’s @yourfatfriend book or podcast). But such a huge part of getting out of my depression was dealing with my body image. I did some coaching groups online during the pandemic and I was ready to reframe my thinking and stop trying to control the shape/size of my body, and the coaching really helped with tools and community to process and heal. Thinking about controlling my body was taking up a TON of mental energy and it was amazing how working toward letting go of those thoughts helped to open up space for creative energy and mental openness. I also think parenting has a way of changing how we look at emotions and how we’ve coped to handle situations and if those methods are really working for us.

So, yes, there is so much meaning in this piece for me. And sharing our truths is super healing, especially when you are met with love, understanding and support.

A weaving hangs from a dowel on a white wall. The weaving mimics the curves and forms of a human torso, seemingly female, and has thick rope-like segments of wool roving looped and loosely woven to create a thick texture. The wool roving is a cream or beige color.
“Self Portrait, My Body is Mine”, wool roving, cotton, wooden dowel, 30" x 23" x 9", 2021, Natalie Sullivan

EM: What advice do you have for young people today, especially those with an interest in pursuing a career as a visual artist creating fiber art?

NS: Wow, ok reading this and I’m running with the first thing to pop in my head. Don’t try too hard to pursue an art career, just make art and community. The best thing about art school was the people I met, and honestly that’s one of the best things about school in general (and I recognize that is in part because we were all drawn to specific schools). But I feel like the advice that was going around when I was growing up was to get degrees and to network. I just think we all want to be in the pursuit of happiness and our capitalist society is basing everything on money. So yeah, go to school to learn about something you’re excited by, but do what you can to not go into a ton of debt for it. Find a way to make art and be around other creatives, even digitally, just so you have a safe/supportive place to share work and talk about it when you want to. I don’t think balance is really achievable, but try to keep making adjustments to your routine throughout the year so you are feeling like a whole person, but be easy with yourself if you stumble or struggle, one small thing at a time. There is no timeline on being an artist.

A person stands in front of a black wall next to a large circular woven artwork. The person is a woman with blond hair and white skin, in a black dress that has a floral pattern in reds, blues, yellows, and greens. The artwork is a weaving of a waning moon, made from white, grey, and black yarn.
“Waning Gibbous; October 11, 2008”, wool, cotton, metal frame, 42" x 42", 2021

Natalie Sullivan’s work will be on exhibition at what will be the tenth year of ArtFields, in Lake City, South Carolina, from April 22–30, 2022. This exhibition will be, according to ArtFields, “a diverse and celebratory exhibition, showcasing hundreds of works selected from submissions from artists across the Southeast. The accepted artwork represents a wide range of subject matter, media, and creative approaches.”

You can find and connect with artist Natalie Sullivan on Instagram at @nataliecreated, via signing up for her mailing list, or at her Etsy shop.

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Elizabeth Meggs

Elizabeth Meggs is a Brooklyn-based artist, designer, and writer. BFA: Virginia Commonwealth University; MFA: Pratt Institute