The Invisible Work:

vmramshur
Jun 30
5 min read

Vestments of the Invisible: A Triptych of Protection

Only a few days remaining

In just a few short days, my sabbatical officially ends.

In the past year, I have traveled, studied, photographed, painted, stitched, layered, excavated, and assembled. I have conducted research and written about clay roof tiles and cisterns, saints and city walls, devotional silks, and long forgotten garments . I have explored the threads of identity, memory, and material culture across empires and centuries, attempting to weave them into something meaningful.

Now, as everything concludes, I find myself seated before Vestments of the Invisible:

A triptych of garments, almost finished. Shaped, cut, assembled. Yet to be adorned.

The Project: Vestments of the Invisible: A Triptych of Protection.

This one last sabbatical project reimagines the fiddleback chasuble, a tabard like garment usually worn in 17th and 18th Roman catholic mass, as a garment of emotional armor, not linked to religious hierarchy but grounded in personal narratives. Freed from its ecclesiastical significance, the sideless garment transforms into a different kind of heraldry: a shield for survivors, thinkers, and wanderers. Through stitching, appliqué, found objects, and symbolic imagery, each garment delves into a different psychic layer:

Wound (Red), Witness (White), and Warrior (Black), providing protection through presence, transformation, and remembrance. These vestments pose the questions:

What protects us, if not belief? What do we carry when the old symbols no longer resonate? No longer intermediaries of divinity, they act as reliquaries of lived experience. Worn not to preach, but to endure, to express, and to transform.

**in residency at the studio of Sydney Cooper in Santa Fe, NM. I began creating these textile works**

**A textured ceramic bowl ,by artist Zachary Ramshur, filled with a vibrant assortment of colorful threads, ready for creative projects.**

Inspiration:

Inspired by this year's research on the tabard and my many visits to places of worship across the globe. I crafted portable assemblage altars that blend sacred cultural and heraldic symbols, symbols of devotion. Then focusing on the 17th/ 18th century Catholic vestment the fiddleback chasuble, so present in these colonial houses of prayer. Often ornate, heavy and imposing and protective like a shield.

I envisioned sacred symbols, amulets, charms, metallic threads, and motifs influenced by the architecture and artifacts I've studied this year, themes I actually explore continually in my work. . There were sketches, research, and color palettes. Hand-dyed threads also awaited patiently in a small dish on my work table to be incorporated link sinew or arteries. But I stopped.

Inspiration Boards Top Row:the Wound (red), Middle Row: Witness (white), Bottom Row: Warrior (black)

Left to right: Top row: portable altars crafted by me. Bottom row: Father Junipero Serra Chasuble, Mission Carmel, Carmel, CA, Altar santo from the Nuevo Mexicano Heritage Arts Museum, Santa Fe, NM,Our Lady of Sinj painting, Split, Croatia

Plans vs. Presence

I’m tired. More than tired—I’m saturated. Creatively full. And I’m wondering:

Do these garments actually need more?
Or are they already saying what they came here to say?

There’s a quiet power in restraint. Especially for something titled Vestments of the Invisible: Maybe it’s not about what’s seen. Maybe the absence is the point. The unadorned. The almost sacred silence of the nearly-but-not-quite.

What is invisible often carries the deepest weight—grief, belief, memory, protection, transformation. It’s possible that embellishing these garments now might blunt that idea rather than deepen it.

Conducting multiple iterations involving "wound" and "witness" and "warrior".

A Pause Before the End

So I stop and reflect. I question myself:

If I had an additional two weeks, would I continue?
If someone else were exhibiting this tomorrow, would I be proud to show it as-is?
If I put it away for a month and came back fresh, what would I want to do?

The responses weren't emphatic, but they were soothing. They allowed me room to rethink what it truly means to finish. Perhaps "done" doesn't equate to "complete," and "complete" might not mean "finished." Throughout my career, I've often worked towards deadlines, aiming to achieve completion by a specific date or opening night. Maybe this piece doesn't require closure—just recognition.

Unfinished or Whole?

I’ve been contemplating the distinction between restraint and avoidance, between creative burnout and creative clarity, and between what a work demands and the expectations I have imposed on it.

I don't want to embellish out of obligation, fear that someone might see it as incomplete, or concern that it doesn't match the volume of my other pieces. That’s not the kind of relationship I want with this work—or with myself.

There is a certain sanctity in allowing this triptych to remain as it is: tranquil, minimalist, and open to interpretation. It serves as a pause, a subtle hint of what is sensed but not visible.

This isn’t me giving up. It’s me choosing to listen.

The Current State of the Project:

Three intricately crafted garments embody the themes of "Wound," "Witness," and "Warrior," each telling a unique story through rich textures, vibrant patterns, and symbolic designs, pausing in the process of reflection and resilience.

Sabbatical, Softly Closing

This sabbatical has been filled with abundance—abundance of research, creation, travel, and reflection, healing and discovery. However, perhaps it also required a moment of stillness at the conclusion. A space for silence. For something unspoken.

Thus, The Invisible Vestments might stay, for the time being, without additional decoration. The enhancements I envisioned could be intended for a different place—or possibly they were never meant to materialize. Perhaps they merely served as a framework to reach this point.

Special Thanks:

**Artist Sydney Cooper's Santa Fe studio and residency, a charming adobe-style building the former Mercantile bathed in the bright New Mexico sun.**

A heartfelt thank you to the amazing visual artist and activist, Sydney Cooper. As a close friend, artistic ally, and source of deep inspiration, Sydney offered studio support and friendship during a two-week art residency in her remarkable space in Santa Fe, New Mexico, where this project came to life. Conversations are always collaborations.

Final Thought:

As I soon will resume my roles in teaching, mentoring, and the continuous cycle of the academic year, I keep this reminder in mind: not everything needs to be completed to hold significance. Some work simply needs to be created. And certain parts should be left untouched.

This year has been incredible. It's time to pause before returning to action. I appreciate your support. Sharing this year with so many, being open about my process, my creations, and my life, has been profoundly meaningful to me. Although it has occasionally pushed me out of my comfort zone, it has been crucial as I enter the next chapter of my journey as an artist. Thank you for being by my side.

- Val