2024, the year in review

 This time of year is good for so many things - slowing down, forgetting what day it is, as well as looking back and looking forward.

Each year I reflect on what I made in the course of the year, and consider the pieces I like the most; or those of which I am most proud. Sometimes they are real works; at other times they are simply little pieces that gave me great pleasure.

This year I have a real blend of things, as it was a busy year exhibition-wise and I experimented with different things.

In alphabetical order only, no listing of favourites by ranking, here are the ten pieces I made this year which I like the most.

1. All That Was Lost

The feature piece of my exhibition Hame, these five scrolls cascaded beautifully into their rusty tins, with the hand stitched words depicting such rich and full lives and homes. My heart still feels warm when I look at this piece and I'm thrilled it has a new home at the Strathnaver Museum.

2. Bundled and Burnt

Another piece for my exhibition Hame, this piece is so simple, so elegant and so poignant. It too now resides with the Strathnaver Museum and whilst I will miss it, I hope to visit it there again one day. The background story can be found here.

3. Grief is a Stone book-ets and cards

The three poems here, pondering grief at different points along the way; hand illustrated, embossed and stitched; are quiet and gentle acknowledgements of grief.

4. Hame exhibition activity

Alongside the exhibition Hame this activity brought me so much joy! Visitors participated by writing their responses to four questions over the four weeks and I hand stitched each week's responses into a book. I loved to read people's thoughts and was impressed by the time and consideration they gave to them. Such a lovely record of what home means to folk.

5. I Hit a Wall

This one kind of came out of the blue towards the end of the year, when I was just taken by the notion that this work, incomplete as it appeared, was in fact complete. I tacked the pages together and it was done. Telling the story of the pandemic in 2021 and how weary we were all were; how many things we had to deal with; how many decisions were made daily and how we were transfixed by press conferences, updates and data.

6. Pebble Jewellery

The Pebbles exhibition offered me the opportunity to expand my work into all sorts of mediums - laser jet cut steel words into stone sculptures; and hand formed-silver jewellery in the form of pebbles. I discovered I loved making pebble jewellery! And folk also seem to appreciate it. I now have an exclusive arrangement with a shop to sell it for me - who knew?!?!

7. The Emigrants

This unbound book was another new direction for me with the overlaying of photographs onto lightweight papers as illustration and image. Although the postcard size, Letraset and hand stitching meant it didn't venture toooo far away from me. Another piece for my Hame exhibition.

8. The Shape of Things 6

Although this piece was not my favourite amongst all of the books for The Shape of Things, it does make me happy as it reminds me what a lovely collaborative exchange it was with Annwyn Dean. It was also the only piece completed this year as all the others were made in 2023.

9. Together

Sometimes its a large exhibition or collection-worthy piece; sometimes its a small gift or offering that heads out and around... These together cards are the latter; and they just remind me of how important it is to stand alongside folk and remind ourselves we are not alone.

10. Travelling Home

Last, but definitely not least. This piece has been in the making for years. More than five, as ideas about pegs and threads and two homes percolated about in my brain. Hame offered me the place to put it together with notions of here and there, of travelling and of reminders of home. I quite simply love this piece and it is the only piece of my own work I have ever put up on our wall.

Thanks for coming along on the wander back through the works of 2024. On reflection having so many exhibitions to participate in meant I really did create some work! For once I was spoiled for choice for selection rather than rummaging through and trying to find the small things... It also looks a lot like my palette - the soft muted tones and a surprising amount of blue.

I focussed on the notion of home a lot, and the impacts of displacement on women; pebbles also featured in different ways, as did grief. Community, collaboration and care are there; along with my new found passion for silversmithing. Life is good and it was a very fortunate year.

Here's to more making.

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...

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.

Hankies update

A well overdue  update on my big project of last year, my Covid hankies. A random selection of blog posts from last year can be found here here here and here.  But searching by hankies will find you most of them.

However, here we are one month into 2022, and the hankies are not done.

I need to rewind to August last year when I began to suffer some very weird hand symptoms. Excruciating pain as I tried to turn door knobs, dropping things as sharp pain burst through my hand. I went to see my physio and we had a great yarn about what might be happening and both decided I should go see a hand therapist.

I did that and she was quite clear that I needed to slow down on the stitching; use some anti-inflammatories, wear a pressure glove and really reduce my stitching. I think I said that twice, because she certainly did!

Which left me a bit betwixt and between.  I couldn't really stitch but I knew I wanted to finish the project.  So I chose to stop stitching until I was symptom-free and then do a slow but graduated return with a few modifications to my style.

What happened of course is that I kept on collecting the information, recording it, writing it down, planning for the next months and so on. But I didn't pick up the needle.

I was fearful I guess; as a maker I really really use my hands. As a former physio I know that rest is vital to repair and recovery. I was really concerned about setting up a chronic situation of flares ups, settling, flares up and so on; ending up in the need for surgery (which was discussed as a real possibility). So I behaved. But psychologically I also stayed away from even doing small bits, and then other work took precedence and here we are in the new year without having picked up the hankies  in nearly 6 months. 

Where I left off stitching July.

So I gave myself the task of trying again and seeing how much I could do.  It turns out that baby steps are still needed, but I think I have made some progress.

A half hour here; a half-hour there. An hour one day, another half hour here. 

My mouse mat acts a reminder of the cottage...

Today in the studio I was determined.  I did the second last line in half an hour, took a break for an hour or two then finished the last line in about 45 minutes.

The coffee mug in the background is a gift from a friend - a reminder of our former Prime Minister Julia Gillard's famous misogny speech. Go Girl this video is powerful.

And it looks grand!

The fierce symptoms haven't returned; yet there is swelling and strain up my arm; and a few weird pins and needles things on occasions. The glove helps a lot and I have tried to remember to take arnica beforehand and afterwards.  I think I will be able to finish them, but ever so slowly.

They remain a really important piece of work for me, and a remarkable reminder of all the ups and downs last year with the virus. 

I am not repeating them this year but have another small Covid recording project up my sleeve.

Afghanistan

 Our hearts feel so heavy, and there are layers of grief and sadness.

As the stories emerge from Afghanistan,  I feel deeply and achingly sad for the many women and girls facing who knows what. I feel scared and horrified. I feel so very helpless, and yet no hopeless. 

I wanted to touch something real and hopeful and beautiful and I reached for my book Two Trees.  It is a collaboration between a number of women book artists and some women in Afghanistan.  I purchased a copy several years ago; but it has always resonated as a beautiful connection of cultures; and the solidarity of women across the globe.

There are many, many people involved; but one touch point is the group SAWA (Support Association for the Women of Afghanistan) in Australia.  It is here that I purchased the book all those years ago.

The idea was that the Australian artists would make concertina books; and then through as series of wonderful people and relationships with organisations, women in Afghanistan would choose a book and respond to it by adding words. And then the books would be returned to Australia.

I sat quietly and went though the book from start to finish again; reading in more detail the stories behind the works; and behind the workers and artists who made it happen.

And I was thrilled to be reminded, that the books had been purchased by the State Library of Queensland for their collection. One day I hope to visit them.

And on the website I discovered a new book had been produced, after a new collaboration.

And more tears - the works that were exchanged and collaborated on were handkerchiefs.

Some hankies were sent and didn't make it back as the women's lives changed and they weren't able to participate or complete them. But many did and it is so beautiful to see how they added to the handkerchiefs in stitching. Sometimes minimally; sometimes in bold sweeps of colour and thick, dense stitches.

So if you can. Please go to the website and purchase one of these books (or make a donation). Three of the key women involved (including Gali the lead artist) have been working all the hours of every day to try to get a visa and safe passage for one of their colleagues in Afghanistan - a women's rights advocate whose life is in danger.

Having secured a visa; they wait desperately for her to be evacuated somewhere safe, as the opportunities for that close by the hour.

Go gently.

Starting the second six months of stitching

 Having made it half way through the year in terms of stitching, the next six months are looming.  It's funny how it works, being a month or so behind in stitching; I can look back over the whole month and try to work out how best to achieve it.

July caused me grief. Too much happened and I did not think I had a hankie big enough to handle it all.

What to do? Do I re-design, edit or stitch two hankies?

I ummed and ahhed a while and asked Barry's opinion.

We both agreed that it had to be one hankie not two. 

Here I am comparing my hand written notes, with two of the 6 hankies available. Seriously, all those words will not fit in the bottom one. The top one has potential; but I think it would be crammed.

The other four options...

Also not looking good when the words are alongside them.

In the end, we decided to re-design. Firstly, I combined a few lines (e.g. rather than 'Perth out' on one line, followed by 'Darwin out'; I combined them onto one line).

Secondly I edited (e.g.Worst day yet - with hindsight this was pretty superfluous and added very little - except the innocence and naivety of the statement, which I often try to note as a reminder that we didn't know what was coming).

And managed to fit the words on - in-between some of the decorative elements and not as straightforward as previous hankies, but that adds to the message of increasing complexity and messiness I feel.

This is my thread palette thus far. I am sticking with 6 colours and definitely NOT re-using the thread for January as it is way too pale.

The first stitch was made during the week, and August is looming like another biggie here.

 

PS that is NOT the stitch that was made! Laugh.

Half a year of stitching

On Saturday I finished stitching my June Covid hankie.  Being in lockdown for a week helped as I stayed home and stitched in moments when I might otherwise have been out and about. 

That means half a year of documenting, recording, noticing, paying attention.  Interesting.

For me, we here in Australia are at another turning point moment; and I think we are learning all over again that the world has changed and that returning to normal is probably a nonsense idea. I spend time mulling what does it mean? What will it look like? How will we be? What do we let go of? What do we work hard to retain?

There is tentativeness, uncertainty and a yearning for simplicity.

This is quite a big project.  I had not realised how big it would be when I began with a quirky notion, and a hope to keep a funny little diary of sorts.

I have had to remind myself that this is real work and when complete, it will be quite a remarkable record. Initially I had thought of it as a fun thing to do on the sides; yet it has become quite a focal point for my 2021 work.  I like how the work leads you sometimes; and I like how things evolve and take on  new meaning.  I like that I don't know what I am doing nor where I am going at times!

Here are the first six months of hankies.  

I love their individual natures. I long for the casual capturing of February where not many big things happened. The intensity of the script in June describes the growing concerns.

The tactility of them is a precious thing. 

I love their edges and their individual characters. And I apologise for the threads from the rug that appear on them - I wild do better.

And the backs of them. The script has power on the other side as well. It is possible in places to decipher it.  I still need to tidy them up and snip threads etc.

 I am grateful for that flicker of an idea - of looking at my mother's hankies and thinking oh, maybe that!  And for friends who shared theirs with me.

And for knowing that the story continues and that I have work to do.