Vicki Essig sitting at weaving loom

Several years ago I moved from Asheville to historic downtown Penland, North Carolina, with the goal of creating a space to live, work, and make a career in art.

I have since built a studio and a home and forged a local community of fellow makers. These people help me realize why I sit at my loom everyday, why I push myself to make something new and interesting. They also look at my train wrecks and point out the ways that I can learn from failed projects. My new surroundings, and my renewed commitment to my craft, have strengthened my determination to continue to learn and teach.

Every day I position myself to listen, whether I am in the studio behind my loom, in the garden, or in the woods. When out in nature, I stop and observe, collecting tiny buds, sedges, galls, insect wings—the small things we see every day but forget to notice. As I work in my studio, the world slowly fades away. I watch closely through my magnifying glass as the silk moves to create intricate patterns, and the objects I have gathered nestle in to the fabric get more comfortable.

I want my work to remind people to notice—to notice nature, their thoughts, their surroundings, their community, their world.

People often ask if it requires great patience to work with such small materials. On the contrary, patience arises from the work. The quiet solitude and slow repetition makes me calm and at peace. I see this feeling passed along to those looking at my work, especially in a frenetic setting such as a craft show. As people stop to look, I see their faces: they move from piece to piece, looking at the details, looking for what might be waiting for them, becoming absorbed, growing calmer. 

Although my background is in textiles, I have incorporated books and book elements into my work, blurring the lines between book arts and the handwoven. After studying book arts, papermaking, and printmaking I have made books part of my everyday vocabulary. I teach occasionally, am collected by a few, and enjoy making things always. 

 

Artist Statement

loom with threads coming out of the back

I walk. It calms my mind. I know just what to do next. My feet carry me forward. Mostly my walks are routine, tranquil, and quiet. Occasionally I flush out a bird, a deer or two. Sometimes I come around a bend in the path and am delighted to see a dried pod, a tree full of galls, or a vine that is particularly beautiful that day. I am in a place of meditation. This is how my weaving feels to me as well. It is quiet and methodical, one thread after another carrying me forward.

On a good day, I am surprised by the time that has slipped away as I witness where I have been and where I am going, traveling on foot through the landscape or into the space in front of me at my loom. My contemplative pieces are a reminder that the small fragments of nature that we tend to overlook are always there, waiting to be seen. As you view my work, I hope that, at least for a moment, you become lost in the discovery of the minute, the quiet of repetition, and the beauty of nature and pattern.


Artist Biography

Vicki Essig looking at wall of art with young boy

Vicki Essig is a full-time artist living and working in the mountains of North Carolina. Her studio work includes weaving and paper-making, collecting and observing. Her work is quiet, contemplative, and intentional. Vicki’s professional career began over two decades ago, when she studied hand weaving, textiles, and design. She later became proficient at working with exceptionally fine yarns and slowly developed a body of work that incorporated intricate patterns with remnants of nature and fragments of old books. She recently built a new studio where she will continue her exploration of textiles alongside paper and book arts. Her work has been exhibited throughout the United States and can be found in the collections of Baylor University, the University of Washington, UC San Diego, UC Santa Cruz, North Shore University Health System in Chicago, and Fidelity Investment Bank in Raleigh, North Carolina.