Thursday Thoughts...

"Books have a unique way of stopping time in a particular moment and saying: Let's not forget this." 

 Dave Eggers

This quote got me thinking today about how often I do this. How often I get stopped in my tracks and think, whoa, this is important. Do not forget this moment; these words; this capturing of an idea; this expression; this perfectly succinct crystallisation of so much. And yet sadly, I so often do.

It feels like with the amount of information one consumes in the course of an average day, that where once you might have thought "that was so spectacular, I will remember it", nowadays I find myself barely remembering what is what that stopped, me exactly, nor where I came across it, or sometimes even who wrote it or said it. I am oftentimes left with a vague sense that somebody said or wrote something really good. Which is neither impressive nor inspiring...

Perhaps he isn't referring to that at all; rather he might simply be saying that a book that tells a story is encouraging us to pay attention to the time in which it is set; perhaps the place and how it operated; maybe the workforce of an era; or the gender roles we took on at different times. In a book about WWI we might be reminded to try really hard not to go there again; a book set in or around outback Australia during a drought reminds us of the fragility of both the planet and our people. Perhaps that is what he is saying.

But I focused on forgetting particular moments and was reminded how often that happens to me.

Circles of Concern

 It's interesting to me how things come around, and go around.

I last made a series of Circle of Concerns cards early in 2020 - the beginnings are here. The times feel right for more cards. I blogged on the different stages it seems both here and here.

I think it's fair to say we live in troubling times. Every time I look at the news I think about all the things there are to worry about in the world; all the places you fear for; and all the people struggling and suffering. It's big. It's a lot. And it's not hard to get overwhelmed.

I worry about climate breakdown and the intensity of the weather everywhere; I worry about refugees in countries which are under threat and living through attacks; I am horrified by the Taliban and the decisions they continue to make about what women and girls cannot do; I fear the impact of the elections result in the US; the cost of living goes up and up for folk; housing is scarce and expensive and homelessness is rising.

At times there is not a lot of cheer. Although these roses did bring me cheer this week.

And so I have to bring myself back from all of these circles of concerns - all of these things I worry about - and return to my circle of control. What is it that I can do to help ameliorate these problems? What steps can I take? What small things can I do? These are my circle/s of control and I need to focus on them and take small steps within them.

And so to the cards as a visual reminder of this.

I have begun again with a different typeface and a slightly different layout and size. I printed out a photo for reference.

After printing I draw in the squares.

These are the ones that were rejected - I didn't keep very straight liens as I traced out the square...

This is one under construction... adding circles here and there, trying for the "centre" circle to remain the same size across them all, but with variations around it.

Using my trusty circle drawing template!

A couple with both square sand circles drawn - although now I look at it, that one on the left is a bit wonky and should be added to the reject pile!

It's a slow process and I still have to draw circles on the remainder; and then add gold to the single circle, that circle we can control.

Nevertheless I also enjoyed this accidental photograph of a Christmas star with lights on it where I clearly moved well before the camera had finished doing its thing!  

Finding happiness and joy in small things and small moments.

Remembering to update

 So often I am reminded that its never just about making the art...

Having received the good news from the State Library of Queensland last week about their purchase of I Hit a Wall, I spent time updating my CV for them and completing the paperwork that accompanies the book; as well as doing the packing and posting and invoicing...

I woke yesterday remembering that I probably should update the CV on my website...and the document that indicates which institutions my work resides in.

I added this book to both and went to the website to attach the two new documents, uploaded them and felt most chuffed with myself. But of course it doesn't end there.

I remembered I hadn't include the two works which were acquired by the Strathnaver Museum following my exhibition there in September, Hame. So I re-did the documents and re-loaded them.

Which reminded me I normally add these sorts of things to my portfolio page. 

And from that page I have links to some process stories, and so off I went looking for representative blog posts about each of the works and thinking about titles and images that might describe them well.

I also added in Travelling Home which I love, but which is in our personal collection rather than a public one. As the top of the page says, sometimes it's just about pieces I love.

And then of course I realised I should probably update the news page of the website and include these stories; and remove the other pieces of 'old' news that were there.

It never ends!

Luckily it was a rainy day and I was pretty tired, and I didn't feel like doing much else, so updating all the website stuff felt like a real accomplishment. Phew!

And just to finish with some end of year twinkles - a table setting at lunch in theVillage on Friday...

Thursday Thoughts...

“To deliver oneself up, hand oneself over, entrust oneself completely to the silence of a wide landscape of woods and hill, or sea, or desert: to sit still while the sun comes up over the land and fills its silences with light. To pray and work in the morning and to labor in meditation in the evening when night falls upon that land and when the silence fills itself with darkness and with stars. This is a true and special vocation. There are few who are willing to belong completely to such silence, to let it soak into their bones, to breathe nothing but silence, to feed on silence, and to turn the very substance of their life into a living and vigilant silence.” 

Thomas Merton

As B and I walked on Sunday - our platypus walk we call it that loops along the creek and through the Showgrounds and back to the main street to an early morning coffee - we stopped, as is our want, to see if there were any platypus about. We are unbelievably fortunate to live in a place where platypus live, a place where they are readily seen. Not every time we walk, but often enough. They are shy and precious.

They stop us in our tracks. We stop, in silence, we scan the creek, we wait patiently to see if the ripples appear; the air bubbles. We wait. We oftentimes think we could wait a lot longer, and see a lot more, but we are often on a mission so to speak - places to go, people to see.

This quote made me think about what it truly means to stop and be present in nature. To be one with the silence, letting it soak into our bones, to fill our minds, to overflow our thoughts. The simplest, yet hardest, of being.

It is so tempting to follow these words and to see how a life changes if more time is spent with silence.

Some fabulous news

 I was thrilled last week to learn that one of my books "I Hit a Wall..." has been acquired by the State Library of Queensland. They have such a prestigious artists' book collection, I am always so honoured when they choose to purchase one of mine; it feels very very special.

This is a bit of a departure for me; although long term blog readers will recall its inception and some of its journeying way back in 2021 - some moments are here and here and  here and here.

Here is what I have written about it:

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

Some images of the 'completed' book follow:

As I pondered these hankies I realised that the story they told in their unfinished way, was a story about our lives during that time with the pandemic and lockdowns and fatigue and in fact, adding to the telling.

I am so happy that the book will have a home where it can be read and viewed, as it tells a social history of a unique time.

Making

 I feel very fortunate to have access to the workshop here where I can make jewellery - as well as having access to lots of tools and knowledge via Barry.

It was hot over there today however; but I do have quite a bit of jewellery to get made, so off we went.

Preparing lengths of different gauge silver wire to create pebble forms.

Excellent tools for 'sanding' and filing.

Pebble forms before soldering.

And after soldering.

Steps still ahead include: polishing, oxidising and adding elements to pendants and earrings.

Christmas stars...

I am helping out with the Christmas party where we live, and am decorating the tables. I have chosen a star theme and have been practising making folded stars. Here are some coloured ones.

And here is what happens when you cut across the wrong folds!

The stars will be more along silver and gold lines, and I think I have folded about 100 so far... 

And this is what I found in a box I bought labelled warm white twinkle lights... laugh!

Thursday Thoughts...

“You don’t take a photograph, you make it.”  

Ansel Adams

I imagine we nearly all know what a remarkable photographer Ansel Adams was; and his iconic black and white nature photographs convey so much. Majesty, serenity, awesomeness. Insignificance. Splendour. Timelessness. And so much more.

I like how he considers a photograph a creative process that is thought about; curated, created, and made. That as you see something unique or special; as you consider how best to frame it or present it; as you wait for the perfect light or grab the magic moment, you are making and creating.

You are not simply taking.

I sometimes wonder how somebody like him would have handled the ubiquitousness of cameras in mobile phones. The ultimate snap! And I wonder if he might have come up with another word for those snapped moments that are in thousands everywhere - somehow different to a photograph like the ones that he made.

I thought about using a photo of my own to illustrate the thought; and then thought for heaven's sake why wouldn't you choose one of his? But hard to choose!

Cathedral Peak and Lake, Yosemite National Park, California. Ansel Adams

Some lovely times...

 We had an amazing weekend at the studio (hence no Sunday post...) with Barry's exhibition of small watercolours, plus the showing of The Shape of Things, and a general happiness around other studio items on sale. We were thrilled, exhausted and exhilarated.

The opening on Friday was a real buzz, and I managed to take ONE photo!  Barry speaking at the opening.

I had lots of lovely conversations about the collaborative exchange with Annwyn called The Shape of Things, and so many people pored over the books and loved the stories behind them. 

In the lead up I had managed to make two pairs of pebble earrings - each earring with one silver and one oxidised silver pebble. They both sold on the night, which was very special.

Hopefully I will get the chance to make some more soon!

In other news I have bundled up some Together cards and whilst some are already in the post; others are waiting for a free moment to be able to address the envelopes -  it has been quite busy but hopefully the next few days will see them on their way. Please let me know your address so I can send you some (if you'd like them).

And I captured this serene moment on a side table in our house. So quiet, so still, so delicate...

Wishing us all some moments of quiet and stillness in the upcoming weeks...