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
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…
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.
Congratulations, that is wonderful news. I remember you working on that book, admiring your desire to record those troubling times in some way. As I was reading this post I also thought the pages not all being finished were appropriate - it was a tiring, exhausting, deeply emotional time and in this way demonstrates that better than any words could do.
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