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.

Nidus i

 The original unbound book work about nests was this one using rusted papers, and stitching. Like the grey one which followed, but which I blogged about previously, it is an unbound book work, where I invite the reader or viewer to co-create poetry about nests, from the pages I have deliberately left unbound.

Once again they can be re-arranged into 5 haiku poems; they can become single line or triple line poetry; or they can be combined into one lengthy poem.

I used a full stitching line to indicate the 7 syllable pages, just in case folk really wanted to do the haiku poems and enjoyed a shortcut kind of thing.

I had really wanted to gather together a collection of things that were linked or connected to nest making and, the notion of the divided box with that special little extra compartment to hold them came into being.

I have submitted this book to an exhibition in New Zealand. It would be wonderful if it were selected and could go on show there...

Nidus, for Narratives

 Before we left, we delivered our books for the Artists' Book exhibition Narratives, which is being held in Maleny whilst we are away (again). I am so sorry we will miss it, as it always brings forth some delightful and thoughtful books.

I changed my mind about which book to enter as I went along and in the end I submitted the second unbound book work on nests I had been preparing called Nidus  (Latin for Nest). The soft grey one.

In part because as I was working out what to include in the additional compartment of the box, Barry asked me to consider my sterling silver nest. The one I had created under Lindsey's supervision back here.

As soon as he said it, I knew he was right. I simply had to let go of the nest, and work out how best to include it. I didn't really have any other real plans for it, but I was attached to it!

But more on that later...

I have long been fascinated by 'the unbound book' (see here and here and here and here for examples).

Nearly all of my unbound book works have been about re-arranging. About a non-linear narrative and about the involvement of the reader/viewer. And so it is with these books. What begins as 15 single pages, can become so much more, and so many more things.

Initially drafted as 5 separate haiku poems (5 syllables, 7 syllables, 5 syllables) these words and poems now range free. They can be re-arranged into 5 haiku poems; they can become single line or triple line poetry; they can be combined into one lengthy poem.

A typical haiku: 5,7,5 syllables

Not a haiku, but a rather lovely gathering of thoughts nonetheless...

Another variation.

 

And some more...

It is entirely up to the reader or viewer to determine the form. As the colophon notes:

Nidus (Latin). Nest.

An unbound book work, co-creating poetry, meaning and nests.

I used the simple stitched lines to help folk, who might desire it, determine which were the five and which were the seven syllable lines.

I felt that this book (and its sibling) are both worthy and valued. I wanted to present them beautifully and I blogged about my personal inability to create what they needed in the moment here.

And so I commissioned some Perspex boxes; each with a little bit on the side to support and extend and celebrate the book. This is where the silver nest comes into its own.

Stitched with invisible (!) thread onto a piece of the embossed grey paper, and snuggled into the display compartment.

I really love the softness of this work and I hope folk enjoy exploring it as well.

The second book of silences (2)

Once again, the light is hard to get right here at home and the book looks duller here than it does in real life. In real life there is a softness, not a heaviness.

 And we begin again from the middle - where the silent pages rest quietly.

This spread gives such contrasting silences, with much to ponder.

More silent pages, slowing us down, making us feel and listen to the silence.

And yet more silences.

And yes, much gratitude once again.

I like how the soft Japanese paper almost muffles the book at the ending.

And further evidence of the lighting issues - here is one packaged looked light and bright and beautiful!

So, the books of silences are complete. I have enjoyed having a self-initiated, not-for-profit, community collaborative project to pursue for the past year or more.  It has been a gentle thing to be doing; it has tested my brain and made me practice a lot of things which now feel less daunting each time I do them. I will take a break from this sort of project for a bit now, and turn my mind back to making some jewellery; and a couple of ideas and works I have had burbling away in the back of my brain. 

The second book of silences (1)

 So... the second book of silences is complete!

I have also managed to wrap, pack and post those that need posting. Once again, posting to the US proves challenging as we negotiate tariffs, non tariffs and all the rest, so I have sent them off with my very best wishes and hopes!

I wanted to show the books in full, so have created two blog posts; this one and the next one so that all of the pages can be viewed without creating a single, huge post of almost 30 images!

This is a book of silences and a second book of silences, side by side. I had thought at the last minute that I might add a second line of pen 'stitching' to the bottom (or the top) to differentiate them, but when I tried to do it it looked really awful, so I quickly retreated from that thought. Instead, they look the same on the outside, but differ on the inside.

Siblings.

I tossed up between a book of silences ii; and a second book of silences and went for the latter. So many decisions.

And straight away, the book offers you silence.

And little bit more silence, then a perfect silence.

I can feel myself in so many of these silences. Either acknowledging a shared silence; or seeking one I am yet to experience.

And we reach the middle of the book, we pause, with silence.

The rest of the book can be seen in the next post. It is nice to take time and read the silences slowly as well.