The Fiber Artists Coalition is made up of Professional Artist Members of Studio Art Quilt Associates (SAQA) from the upper Midwest. FAC curates traveling exhibits of its members' works. Members employ a variety of innovative materials and techniques in the creation of fiber art with a contemporary edge. Some members have published books about their artistic processes and are in demand as teachers and presenters. Many exhibit their work in juried group and solo exhibitions within and beyond the U.S. The eleven members whose works are included in this show are Frieda Anderson, Astrid Hilger Bennett, Kathie Briggs, Shelley Brucar, Clairan Ferrono, Peg Keeney, Pat Kroth, Casey Puetz, Joan Potter Thomas, Laura Wasilowski, and Trish Williams.As an example, Clairan Ferrono’s Eye of the Blackbird interprets the opening stanza:Among twenty snowy mountains,The only moving thingWas the eye of the blackbird.In The Beauty of Innuendo, local artist Astrid Hilger Bennett chose to interpret Stanza V:I do not know which to prefer,The beauty of inflectionsOr the beauty of innuendoes,The blackbird whistlingOr just after.List of Blackbirds participating artists plus state of residence:Astrid Hilger Bennett, Iowa City, IAKathie Briggs, Charlevoix, MIShelley Brucar, Buffalo Grove, ILCheryl Dineen Ferrin, Mattawan, MIClairan Ferrono, Chicago, ILPeg Keeney, Harbor Springs, MIPat Kroth, Verona, WICasey Puetz, Waukesha, WIJoan Potter Thomas, Northville, MILaura Wasilowski, Elgin, ILTrish Williams, Chicago, ILSource Material:Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Blackbird, by Wallace StevensAmong twenty snowy mountains,The only moving thingWas the eye of the blackbird.III was of three minds,Like a treeIn which there are three blackbirds.IIIThe blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.It was a small part of the pantomime.IVA man and a womanAre one.A man and a woman and a blackbirdAre one.VI do not know which to prefer,The beauty of inflectionsOr the beauty of innuendoes,The blackbird whistlingOr just after.VIIcicles filled the long windowWith barbaric glass.The shadow of the blackbirdCrossed it, to and fro.The moodTraced in the shadowAn indecipherable cause.VIIO thin men of Haddam,Why do you imagine golden birds?Do you not see how the blackbirdWalks around the feetOf the women about you?VIIII know noble accentsAnd lucid, inescapable rhythms;But I know, too,That the blackbird is involvedIn what I know.IXWhen the blackbird flew out of sight,It marked the edgeOf one of many circles.XAt the sight of blackbirdsFlying in a green light,Even the bawds of euphonyWould cry out sharply.XIHe rode over ConnecticutIn a glass coach.Once, a fear pierced him,In that he mistookThe shadow of his equipageFor blackbirds.XIIThe river is moving.The blackbird must be flying.XIIIIt was evening all afternoon.It was snowingAnd it was going to snow.The blackbird satIn the cedar-limbs.