Journey Series.

In December 2019, I created what I consider my first truly loved woven piece—This piece was my first exploration of deconstructing and reconstructing of my woven work, a process that would later define my artistic practice.

Then, COVID-19 changed everything. I had to leave college, pack up my work, and move home, where I no longer had access to a loom for two years. During that time, I explored other creative outlets—jewelry, cartoon illustration, and eventually, fabric collage. I began cutting and assembling fabric collages using thrifted textiles, piecing together scraps I had collected. It felt creative, but something was missing. I knew I needed to weave again.

In April 2022, I bought my first loom—a small 24” Baby Maccomber. It felt good to be weaving again, but deep down, I knew my heart yearned for large-scale work. That October, I invested in a 54” Maccomber and started weaving again, though still without clear direction. I wove piece after piece, simply for the sake of making, without much thought about what they would become. Eventually, I folded them up and put them away, not thinking much of them at the time.

In the summer of 2023, I moved apartments, bringing my two looms with me. I decided to quit my job and focus on my art, but instead of creating, I found myself stuck. My looms sat untouched, my weavings remained folded in boxes, and I felt creatively lost. It was a hard point in my life, but I never lost hope.

When 2024 arrived, I knew something had to change. One day, inspired by abstract minimalist painters, I picked up some paint and began layering color onto my weavings. I had always loved painting and wanted to explore how it could interact with my woven work rather than exist separately. Leaning into the philosophy of Jackson Pollock, I let instinct take over, allowing the materials to guide me instead of overthinking. For the first time since December 2019, I felt true joy in my work and in being back in my studio.

That joy sparked something in me. I pulled out all my old weavings from college, the ones I had stored away, alongside newly woven pieces, old dyed fabrics, and paintings. And then, it truly began—I started building a cohesive body of work, layering, cutting, collaging, and transforming forgotten fragments into something entirely new. I had always envisioned my work framed, so I purchased a shadow box and placed one of my completed pieces inside. The frame gave it a clean, finished presence that I had always felt woven pieces lacked when hung on their own. I loved how it contained the textures and layers, making the work feel complete. The contrast between the raw, organic materials and the structured frame elevated the piece in a way that felt right to me. For the first time, I was proud—not just of the piece itself, but of the journey that led me to it. I was finally ready to share my work with the world.

Journey was born from revisiting my past, from rediscovering and breathing life into work I had once abandoned. In many ways, it mirrors my own creative journey—the doubts, the setbacks, the rediscovery of passion. For years, I had pushed my creativity aside, tucked it away like those stored weavings. Now, I am ready to put myself and my work out into the world and say, Here I am. I am Audrey Nixon, and this is my art.

This series speaks to overcoming doubt, embracing imperfection, and finding beauty in the raw, messy, and organic. Like the layers of fabric and thread in my pieces, we all carry layers of experiences waiting to be seen. We need more of that in the world—more color, more expression, more courage to embrace imperfection. The hardest part is taking the leap, but once these works were framed, I felt more certain than ever: I am an artist, and I am proud.