Calligraphy and doodling

 There comes a time in every studio space where you need to go - Stop. Just stop. Clean up and tidy up before you do another thing. And I recently met that moment.

My desk space had pretty much NO space left on it as I had supplies for teaching out, samplers of Kilian Caps, some small pieces of calligraphy I was working on, my watercolour set and my watercolour doodles all fighting for dominance alongside my finished poetry books and my Conversations with Women Friends cards.

And so 'Time' was called, I cleaned up, cleared up and began again. I sent this photo to Barry showing him that I had done some calligraphy, chuffed that I had completed two small works that I thought I could use, only to discover as I sent it that I hadn't finished the pink one at all! It still needed the word Serenity added in.

So back I went. And you can see I gave up on the blue one as that S for Silence went way too wild (the lower bowl was too loosely curved, it needed a much sharper return) and was unretrievable in my book. 

I have now completed four I think including one blue pencil on black card which has proven almost impossible to successfully photograph.

Practising all those S s has been good for me I am sure!

I have continued with my daily doodle, most days, and am starting on my third one now.

And in amongst it all there have been flowers and local wildlife. 

A platypus in our creek.

There is a wallaby in this photograph, and a clue to where you can find it! Laugh.

There have been some lovely winter days, and we are grateful.

Thursday Thoughts...

“Grace is the face that love wears when it meets imperfection.” 

Joseph R. Cooke

As I imagined when I searched for this fellow, this quote comes from a theological background. I know folk who have become experts in the theological understanding of grace; and yet I tend to think about it in a non-religious way.

I think of people who are gracious. Who show grace in how they respond to things. For me this quote describes that perfectly.

Folk are gracious in the face of imperfection, wrongdoing, and hurt. The way he describes grace as a face is particular I think. It makes me focus on the face of somebody being gracious and I see a calmness, an openness and a gentleness there.

I do not see a sneer, or anger, disappointment or derision. The face I see is accepting and warm, and possibly forgiving.

The word imperfection is also a nice choice. For me it suggests we can all do with being gracious when things don't necessarily meet our standards or expectations. And sometimes I definitely need reminding of that.

And because it is a hard quote and set of thoughts to illustrate, I came up with these poppies. A, because I love poppies, and B, because their quirkiness could be seen as imperfection and yet I see them as beautiful.

Printing for peace

 Barry and I were lucky enough to have time on the weekend to print our peace weather grams for 2026. Even though International Day of Peace is not until 21 September, we head back to Scotland in the relatively near future and knew we needed to print them here before we go.

It was a great test of our new printing space with the two of us working alongside each other setting up; and then a team effort to print and set them to dry. 

I chose the simplest of phrases - Peace is beautiful.  As I went about it, I thought maybe it could begin a new series of Peace is ... but who knows?

I started with Mistral 72 point, but boy oh boy the word beautiful looked like it would go right to the edge; and it did plus more. So I thought I had better find another way.

There always plenty of problems to solve.

I left the word peace as 72pt, and then moved the rest of the words to 48pt Mistral, and think that looked better. I wanted peace to catch people's attention and then have quite a breathing space before is beautiful. I really like the handwriting stye of this, and the way it looks as if I could have scribbled it myself.

As ever, printmaking leaves you with such lovely images - the starkness of the black and white here and the ink and the tools.

We printed up a storm and our two sets of weather grams are quietly drying (with the aid of a dehumidifier given the rain and the mist we are experiencing).

Given we have had so much weather, it was no real shock to find that several of our weathergrams form years past had fallen from our peace magnolia tree (partly we think because we also recently had it pruned and everything was just a tad more exposed). So here are some fragments and some remnants resting on our chair by the front door.

And some other cheery wee ceramic stars that keep the wishes for peace alive...

I Hit a Wall on show

On Friday B and I headed off to the big smoke (Brisbane) on the train (for 50c each way!) to see an exhibition called Dearly Departed, at the State Library of Queensland.  The Library has put together an exhibition around death, dying, loss and grief and has sources lot son fascinating items from heir collection; the original layout maps of cemeteries, stonemasons tools, journals of nurses and doctors; and all many of things related to how we mark death and the grieving process.

I was thrilled to learn that my artist' book I Hit a Wall  had been selected to go on show alongside so many other precious items.

I have written about its progress before (plenty of link backs in that previous link) but here are the words that accompany it in the collection (but which are not display in the exhibition):

I hit a wall 
2024

After the year that was 2020 I regretted not creating any work that spoke of, or to, the pandemic.
In 2021 I thought I would pay attention and just note down key events.
My Dad had gifted me a number of my mother’s handkerchiefs and I thought to embroider a journal of sorts onto them.
I began by writing down events in my own handwriting, transferring them onto a hankie, and then hand embroidering my handwriting.
I had no idea what 2021 would hold and that in fact, it would be busier than 2020 had been.

Each month I would capture events, and start stitching.
It took all my creative time to try and keep up with policy shifts; quarantine; border closures; contact tracing; gatherings; social distancing; access to vaccines; short sharp lockdowns…
It was exhausting.
I persisted.  
But then.

There was too much. I was too tired of it all.  I felt numb and overwhelmed. I felt weary.
I transferred the month of August onto the hankie but couldn’t start stitching. So much happened in that month that I had to do the criss-cross writing so often seen in old correspondence where the written lines went in two directions. I felt it would never end.
And I submitted to a sense of overwhelmedness and simply stopped.  

I hit a wall.

Leaving this artists’ book partially completed represents us all at the tail end of that year. I had thought I might pick it up and complete it, but I haven’t been able to.  Like everybody I probably just want to park those times, not re-visit them in detail.

Reading the handkerchief pages of this book, I am amazed to recall the daily drama we dealt with.

But I hit a wall and have now simply tacked the pages together and it is complete just as it is…

31cm(h) x 31cm(w) x 1cm(d) closed; 31cm(h) x 62cm(w) x 1cm(d) open.

Cotton handkerchiefs and embroidery thread, Pilot Frixion pen

There were different themes across the exhibition, and my work was part of the Pandemics, epidemics and quarantine.

There is an interesting virtual tour of the exhibition for those who can't get to Brisbane, and here is a screen shot of my work on display.

Back to the book itself, August was the month that defeated me - so much happened and I felt overwhelmed by the thought of trying to capture it all, let alone sew it all.

And by October, I had nothing.

This remains a book that I am proud of, and that has a special place in my heart and in my mind. They were such difficult times, and with this book, we remember them.

Thursday Thoughts...

"What's really good about the word 'art' is that 'art' is a word like 'love,' or 'god,' or whatever. It transcends so many things. "

Tracey Emin

I have been re-reading journal articles about the world of artists' books; and the Book Arts; and what makes a piece of work Book Art; and on and on in the attempt to characterise and catalogue artists' books.

These articles are nearly 20 years old so it has been interesting to see how they hold up - what is useful now; what fell by the wayside; what new direction took off afterwards etc. So yes, defining art is an interesting notion!

The openness with which Ms Emin describes art - the way in which it can encompass so much, can make room to hold and support diversity is a real strength of art I think.

Of course there will be divisions and categories within any gathering under the title of art; and purists will be annoyed by new things that purport to be art; and will no doubt say "yes... but is it really art"? And for me it broadly doesn't matter. I think lots of things are artistic and creative; does that make them art? It probably doesn't make them Art!

I am interested too in how she uses both love and god as the comparatives, and uses the words transcends. And yet I immediately read the meaning as to encompass and include. Whatever way it goes, I think art as a word, can be a very big umbrella.  Or many umbrellas.

Glimpses

 I have been working on finalising three verses/poems that reflect some of our time in Scotland.

I have called the series Glimpses. Each one is a glimpses of a scene I have become familiar with, and fond of, in the north of Scotland.

The chaffinches that visit our kitchen window are absolute favourites and still stop me each and every time. Yet, they move so swiftly I often only catch a glimpse. 

The changing nature of the hillsides as the seasonal colour changes take effect, incrementally, yet creating such vast contrasts, inspired glimpses of the turning.

 

Trees of the blanket bog came about following a conversation with my brother in Australia:

 

“It’s Autumn there now isn’t it?” he said; “How’s the colour?”

 

I turned and looked out the window.

 

“The colour’s more down south, like Perthshire, up here, we don’t really have trees”.

 

And I told him what we have instead are power poles. That these are our ‘trees of the blanket bog’; and how at certain points in our regular drive, we glimpse them, scratching the sky.

I have been working on them with my beautiful new typewriter and some lovely Japanese papers. 

There were typos, and layout mistakes, one time I didn't return far enough and the new line started in an indented position...so many things to focus on.

I was working towards using the Moleskine notebooks I mentioned back here...but after attempting to glue

the paper onto the lightweight page part, I was disappointed with the buckling and the way in which it flattened and deadened the lovely paper. So...B was right! And I had to ponder what to do instead. 

In the interim, I went and worked on my second doodle page - which was calming and mind-emptying, so I didn't get too het up about my failure.

I knew the typed pages were good and showed promise. I had stitched the typewritten page to another page of the same paper and they created a lovely framed/bordered look. But then what to do with them?

I tried them out on some Arches Velin paper, cut as if to make a cover. I liked the look, but then thought about attachment. Would I sew right through them into the cover? That was problematic as any sewing would cut through the words which were split over the gutter of the page. Glueing them was another option - but I really didn't like how much it deadened the work and didn't let it feel alive.

So I did a mock up in plain paper and much smaller than the real thing. And wondered how it would go if I simply machine stitched from the stitched border to the top; and from below to the bottom?

This was functional - it held the paper page in place; but also met the form requirement of letting the page have lift and life. Felt like I was onto a winner!

And so I went and folded the page and set each page into a cover and sewed from the border to the top and to the bottom. And left the threads...

And attached the title to the front of the cover. And they were done.

I have made four of each verse, and now I know what I want to do, I have the capacity to make more. But this is a good start, in readiness for the Pop Up in Scotland in August.

Conversations with Women Friends cards

I have popped all the cards into their packets/pouches and will see if I get any more made before we head to Scotland; but for now I have enough stock to got with in preparation for the Pop Up in Armadale in late August.

Women Friends are so important in our lives, and  I felt I wanted to honour those relationships somehow - recognise and celebrate them.

I ended up sequencing them - calling them CWWF I, II, II, IV etc all the way up to X.  I thought it would help people choosing, but also I wanted to think my way through sequencing them for a book I might print with them all.

CWWF I is a smily one - simple. We can often say so much with a delivery of chicken soup. Or a friend just delivers it without even talking about it and you know all the love and care that is in it.

Sometimes the conversation is pretty much one where one person does the listening as it's a hard, tough, sad, soul-destroying experience that needs to be shared and heard; not solved. CWWF II.

CWWF III - so often this is my answer to "how did it go?" Whenever I think back over all the topics we touched on - the health, the books, the politics, the friends, the work, the weather... so many things!

This one is powerful, and potent, and didn't need a red thread of conversation between us... CWWF IV

CWWF V - oh my this is cracker! Those moments when a shared experienced is captured in one word and you both just burst out laughing! The stitching line tries to capture that explosive burst somehow.

CWWF VI - this one captures those special friends you have known for decades, where your conversations cover so much territory. Over decades we have seen the ups, the downs and the round abouts...

Sometimes our conversations with friends are texts, chats, messages, emails and oh the bliss of a written letter. CWWF VII

Nothing beats sitting side by side and blethering whilst the road unfurls before you. CWWF VIII

CWWF IX - so true! Somehow time disappears and you take a breath and look around your and realise its been hours...

CWWF X. This one. The special ways of knowing and understanding, of sharing, connecting and checking in... is like no other relationship.

And yes, they still look glorious in a bundle!