Taking a deep breath and beginning

 One of the main pieces for Scotland involves seven bobbins with seven hand stitched scrolls. As ever, a lot of preparation has happened to get to this point where a needle goes near fabric.

Firstly I had to try and find seven wooden bobbins. We were lucky to come across a stash in a nearby antique shop so we snaffled them and brought them home. I was trying to work out the descending measurements and B kindly cut the bobbins that needed reduction, and we glued them back together so there are now 3 pairs of different sizes, and one large central bobbin.

Another step involved having seven sort of matching rusty tins, so I painstakingly went through my rusty tin stash and tried to pull together seven tins that were siblings and might be able to go together. 

I learned how to hand stitch run and fell seams to create the seven scrolls (after all the fussing that went into measuring and choosing fabric).

I bought a bunch of embroidery threads that I thought might suit the work, and which complemented my own threads which I had chosen.

I had created a very long list of words - a bit like a shopping list but different - and then transferred some of them onto the fine fabric.

And started stitching.

I am very conscious that there is a lot of stitching to do, and I am still strangely anxious about overdoing it and damaging my hand again, so I am going slowly.

But the first scroll is done!

Cautiously, and slowly, onwards.

Thursday Thoughts...

"(…) we find beauty not in the thing itself but in the patterns of shadows, the light and the darkness, that one thing against another creates. A phosphorescent jewel gives off its glow and color in the dark and loses its beauty in the light of day. Were it not for shadows, there would be no beauty". 

Junichirô Tanizaki, “In Praise Of Shadows”

A good friend gifted me this book  many years ago, and at the time I did not think of it much. It was only later as I began to explore my art-life that I realised how important it really is; the manner in which it thinks about the unseen, the hidden, and the illuminated, and how this thing here makes that thing there come to life.

I came to understand especially that gold leaf, glows in the shadows. It can seem dull or flat or indeed over done in the light, depending, button the shadows it finds an inner light. Shadows add such dimensionality to work, they enable you to see it as a different piece by virtue of where they lead your eye. 

It's probably a good guide to life - don't just look at the obvious thing. Look to the side, look behind, look elsewhere to see what else is happening... 

GOMA December 2023, apologies for inaccurate reference to artist. I think Taloi Havini...

Working cubes out...

 For one of my remaining pieces for the Scottish exhibition I am trying to work out how to create artwork on fabric and cover two cement cubes. I know right? 

This was the play that made me think about it and how they might be positioned if I ever make them, but first things first...

Before working too hard on the printing/creating imagery and artwork on calico explorations, I thought I'd better see whether I could even wrap a cube so to speak.

I found a video tutorial about creating a cube that you could stuff with foam and make into a squeeze and fiddle type object and followed along with that.

Unfortunately I took no photos of the preparation phase, just the almost complete object. However there were 6 squares of calico, stitching four of them into single row and then adding one either of the second square in the row - making a 't'. Then some clever joining seams and voila as they say in the classics.

Of course I was there for the random dangling threads, but I do know it would be better if I trimmed them.

I popped my trial cube in and it fitted pretty well.

Rather than just leave a small hole to pull the cube through to the right side and to put the stuffing in; I needed to leave three sides undone in order to sit the cube in; and think I will need to hand stitch three sides.

I was faced with how to keep the seams tight as I pulled the lid over for sewing and came up with this .

And then I will fold the lid over and stitch it down.

I think.

I am now about to go discover if there are real patterns for sewing an ottoman cover which also needs the full cube popped into it; and of course, am now wondering if in fact I should hand sew all the seams! Laugh.

First up I have to make sure I know what sort of story I am trying to tell with these cubes and what sort of imagery and details they will each have. Then I need to work out of in fact I can achieve that. Do I work on each cube square separately before joining? Or do I wait until I have the 't' and design the work onto that? As ever a myriad of questions wait to be answered, but the only way to find out is to give it a go, so here we go! 

Exhibition Activity

 For my exhibition later in the year in Scotland, I will be undertaking a weekly activity within the gallery space.

Because the exhibition explores ideas around home I have prepared four questions.

I am printing each question on a postcard sized page, and will have them in the gallery space for people to fill in, answer and complete.

I will then collect them all and stitch them into a book at the end of each week; then deliver the second week's questions, then the third and then the fourth. At the end of each week I will pop the now-stitched book back in the gallery space for visitors to flick through as they ponder the next week's question. By the end of the show there will be four hand-stitched books that have gathered people's thoughts about home.

So I have covered the covers - each week will be a different but complementary colour.

I have printed four Title pages, one for each book.

I have printed 4 slightly different colophons... saying where it was printed and who hand stitched it.

Because time in the studio has been very limited given life circumstances, I knew I wouldn't have time to print them all at the one time; and didn't want to waste ink, AND do a major clean up before I could return and print the next round, so I decided to hand ink each print. Its slower, but much less mess to clean up.

It always takes me a while to get into the groove again hand-inking, the consistency of ink, the coverage and the direction of rolling the ink on. As evidenced...

So I managed to get all the covers and the colophons (needing to stop and change out the week numbers each time), and 20 of the first question printed. There will be 40 pages printed for each book (I hope that is enough) so the top book here will be double the size once the extra 20 pages are added; and then bigger again because there will be stitching that keeps the pages a bit further apart than this. Chunky!

I have managed to set the second question and cut an extra 40 pages, so I will good to go whenever I next get to the studio.

You can just tell that we will need all of our luggage allowance to take everything over!

Thursday Thoughts...

Sometimes a flat-footed sentence is what serves, so you don't get all writerly: 'He opened the door.' There, it's open. 

Amy Hempel

I chuckled when I read this. The way she goes "There, it's open." was such a good line. And yes, "He opened the door "told us everything we needed to know, and still left us wondering what happened next.

I imagine as a writer that getting the balance right between beautiful and lyrical, and straightforward and easily understood is an ongoing project when writing a novel. I remember the first time I read Michael Ondatje's The English Patient. When folk asked me what I thought about it, I said "the writing was so beautiful it was almost impossible to understand".

I had been taken away on the beauty of the words, and the descriptions. I found them tantalising in and of themselves. Whilst they were stunningly lyrical and evocative, somehow, for me, they didn't improve my comprehension or help me follow along with the story.

On second reading I understood a lot more; but for that first time around I could probably have used a few more flat-footed sentences!

Not quite open yet...

Visiting my work at All Stitched Up in Gympie

 We finally managed to head north to Gympie to see this show, where I had three pieces display. As anticipated it was beautifully presented and curated, and in fact, when I walked in and saw my work on display it took my breath away a bit.

It looked so serene within the space.

And I was very happy to see it.

I loved this work by Sandra Pearce - the delicacy of it, and how well the words fit the work...

I also loved this form by Joanna Faber.

And the way these pieces were displayed.

All in all, it was well worth the drive, ad real delight to see such a variety fo work in such a beautiful space. Huge thanks to all involved.

And then for the briefest of moments as I walked past, the sun shone and the birds had shadows!

Completing the pegs

 And here we are, with the work completed.

I had done so much to get this work this far, but there were still plenty of moments that needed to be worked through in order to get it done. I had managed to do the stitching lines, and to attach the pegs with wire. But now the challenge was to attach the paper to the canvas.

As Barry had looked at my design earlier, he had said - maybe the  Xs could be how you attach the paper to the canvas. And I was so excited as it sure beat trying to line up the pegs and poke holes in the canvas and tie the wire through the canvas!

First up I wanted to secure the paper to the canvas so it didn't slip and slide - I had cut it to fit perfectly so there was not a lot of margin for error. Bull dog clips and some grey board to protect the paper did the job. It felt really secure.

And then the funniest stitching team work began. I sat on the floor, we extended the canvas beyond the edge of the table, I would begin underneath the canvas; B would take the needle through the canvas from the top; together he would then help me find the next hole to pierce from below; and then he would send the needle back through from the top.

My abs got a minor workout as well!

Me finishing one of the Xs off underneath.

B about to pass the needle back through from the top.

Then we had to line up the canvas within the frame and secure it in there. It came with some spacers os that really helped.

And then we screwed the canvas and its boards into the frame and ta- da it was done!

I oftentimes include a little X somewhere in my work - to place me within it, help me find my place, connect me to the work, and so on.  Here they do the same thing, but also often an excellent anchoring option!

And so it is done, This labour of love and pondering over years. It will head to Scotland to be shown in my exhibition "Hame" in September. It explores how I feel about having two homes, both beautiful, and how somehow, across the many miles, they connect and are one in my heart. Beautiful threads from here, and from there, connect.

I am still deciding on a title, but it is somehow about threads connecting...

Thursday Thoughts...

"There are only two days with fewer than 24 hours in each lifetime, sitting like bookends astride our lives". 

Kathryn Mannix

I was utterly struck by these words the first time I read them. Kathryn Mannix is a palliative care specialist, a psychotherapist and an author who has spent her life caring for these with incurable and advanced illnesses; and wrote a great book called With The End in Mind from which this quote comes. I learned so much about death from reading that book. She is a wise woman.

I guess I just hadn't stopped to think that birth occurs somewhere in the day, rarely right at 12.01am; and that death truncates a day most often as well. But that every other day we have 24 hours in which to live and be.

It made me a bit sad, (and who knows why because really, I knew it already), that the day you die is a shortened day; you don't get to live it right to the end. 

The flip side of the words for me tho is the reminder that in between those two days you get a full day, every day. You get the maximum amount of time in each day to do or be; to create; to live; to laugh; to help; to care; to make. And I guess the subtle reminder is to make the most of those days...

We moved these birds recently so we can see them better and they bring me joy each time I pass them.

Grief is a Stone in sandstone

 I have had two of my Grief is a Stone metal calligraphy pieces cut into Corten steel, which should weather and rust.

My plan is for them to be outdoor sculptures that might sit in a garden, tucked away and folk might come upon them quietly.

So I have popped them outside to get the rusting action happening a bit more quickly - we have had a fair bit of rain! I got one of each style cut.

And they are beginning to rust nicely on the front.

But I have had to turn them over to get a bit more happening on the back.

 Barry cut the groove for me in a couple of small pieces of sandstone we had set aside for another project.

Broadly speaking, I think they are going to work well, they just need little bit more time weathering.