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.

Next steps for a book & pebbles!

 I am pushing a couple of things forward at the same time - the wee book for Narratives, and the second Book of Silences. Both are in fact pretty big projects; but the deadlines for both are only a few weeks away for me (given we have plans to return to Scotland. I say plans, because as we have all observed, the planet is a risky place right now).

So the stitching is happening on the pages of the Nest book. I am varying the placement and length of lines of stitching, but have decided on three lines of stitching for each. 

One thing I am missing from the larger public studio space is the light for photographing things. I used to put things on the concrete floor, in an area without direct light and the colours were always pretty true. I am yet to find my happy place for photographs here at home, but over time I hope I will. I think this last photo is the truest to the colour of the pages.

So that work continues, and I have also added some of my calligraphic pebbles to the shop. I was trying hard to work out a way for people to select their own word and I had a few tricks up my sleeve; but without adding 26 letters of the alphabet as items and have people choose 1 x P + 2 x E + 1 x A = 1 x C to create PEACE I couldn't make it work. I thought having 26 items on top of other things in there (like jewellery and book-ets) would just make it look way too messy and be a bit too fussy for folk. So I selected a few phrases and words and priced them; and offer folk the opportunity to email me with requests.

I did work out how to let folk choose if they wanted upper case or lower case so that felt like a win!

The pebbles are $2.00 each; and if any locals want to buy them, there is no postage.  Well depending on how I go manipulating the website, there might be postage, but it will be swiftly refunded!

So many things...

The book continues

 The next steps.

I have loved the background to these pages and really enjoyed the typewriter written words., but have been wondering what else to illustrate and support the words???

In my previous works Under Construction, I had successfully used twigs, both stitched down individually, and bundled and stitched, so I thought to see how that might work.

As ever, I do love the twigs.

I liked them more when they were angled slightly. 

But I was a bit worried about their fragility and if they would hold up as pages were moved around. The books I had previously used them on were concertina style books where the book was displayed like art, rather than one where pages were lifted, turned and placed.

And I think my fears were probably well founded given they snapped and fell apart as I tried to bundle them. I will have to see if, or how, twigs can be part of this book; but they won't be on the pages I now know.

I then turned towards stitching, as the words about the building of nests so often suggest threads, and weaving and stitching.

For some reason, the notion of couching came to mind as I thought I might like the little bobbles that form part of it. So I did a line of couching. And was a tad underwhelmed. So I did another line thinking that together they might say something more.

But I wasn't convinced.

So back to running stitch I went. And I decided I liked the alternate lines of stitching and I think that three might work well.

I then used a metallic silver pen to make a few marks on the page (barely noticeable here) and added a few bits of scrap material I had rescued on the way out the door of the studio. I think they add something...

As ever, the challenge is how to support the words without overwhelming them. How to make the pages interesting but not too busy... I have one more thing I want to test and then I think I can begin.

And on another note - I have been invited by Sandra Pearce of Art from The Urban Wilderness to give an artists talk at Hive Studios in Brisbane in late March. I am excited to talk about my work and show some books and generally have fun chatting with artist book type people.

If you are local and/or interested in getting along here are the details...

2025, the year in review

 I usually use that never-never time between Christmas and New Year to ponder and reflect, to plan and to dream. This year it has not been like that, with all the heft and heaviness of shifting and moving, but I have grabbed some moments to ponder the year of making that was.

I felt like I was an artist almost each and every day last year; but interestingly I didn't make a huge amount of things. What I discovered as I wandered back through the year was that I had done some lovely things; one thing was very involved, intricate and time-consuming; I spent a lot of time in my head writing a conference paper and preparing courses; my making was varied across materials; and that a lot of my art time was thinking about how to move what to where, how to promote and sell art when we don't have a physical shop and generally re-imagining my world as a maker.

As ever, in alphabetical order only and with no ranking of favourites, here are the ten things I made this year that I like the most.

1. Book of Silences

I loved this whole process; the honour of working with the words of friends, and the testing and trialling that came with the challenge of a representing silence... In the end the wee book is a marvellous thing and I cherish it, and its making.

2. Building Narrative

This is a bit of a catch all for me as maker. I included Building Narrative because I enjoyed it and was proud of it. I presented a paper on Building Narrative in Artists' Books at the  BIND25 Conference in NZ; and I presented two one-day workshops on Building Narrative here in Maleny at the studio of my friend Kim Herringe. Both of these things took a lot of work,  a lot of care, a lot of thinking, and both are a creative product (in my mind). Not so much to show and physically hold in your hand - but I am comfortable saying I made them!

3. Silver pebble jewellery.

I continued to make and sell sterling silver pebble jewellery. I did some commissions, I went big, I tried new things. It is a lovely thing to wear jewellery that you have made I must say; and I also love seeing it on others as it shimmers and moves .

4. Nest.

I really enjoy working with Lindsey when we are in Scotland, and this time I asked her if I could try to make a nest. It was such a fun process and I really got into it. The result was a layered, sterling silver nest that could be sculptural, or a pendant. It has inspired me to try and make more.

5. Peace around the world.

We have been making and sharing peace weathergrams for International Day of Peace for many years now. Over a decade at least. This year was no different - the weathergrams are used cutlery holders that my dad and his folk collect for us; and we letterpress print a message of peace on them and make a hole and tie some string. But this year felt different. It felt like there was such a yearning for peace (and care, and kindness) across the globe. And this year, without prompting, folk sent me photos of their weathergrams flying boldy and bravely in oh so many marvellous places. It truly lifted my spirits and gave me hope.

6. Red Card.

I made my first book about Australian women being killed by their partners or former partners over 11 years ago. It is still a crisis in this county and so little has changed. This book is simple. It is loud. It is full of me being so sick and tired of all the talk and still women are murdered with monotonous regularity. I give a Red Card to governments, to the media and to men who kill the women they loved.

7. Resist.

Sometimes your work is significant. Sometimes it addresses national concerns. Sometimes it seeks to encourage gentle and peaceful ways of being. Sometimes it is small, heart felt and simple. Sometimes it is sent as a reminder that people care, and that we all need hope.

I hand stitched these fabric remnants with red french knots, depicting the word resist, and sent it to friends in the US. I used braille as the format language - because nothing is safe with communication and we sometimes need to talk in code. Small. Not much but something, and yet I loved doing them and they are among my favourites of the year.

8. Serviettes.

I did mention sometimes your work is small, but brings great joy, and so it was with these serviettes. The joy I feel is well out of proportion for what they are and what they do, but there you go. I loved exploring the wing needle and hem stitches on my machine and I love that I now have some lovely serviettes to use - and that they look gorgeous!

9. Simply Being.

This book was a long time in the realising. I have played with the words for years and years, finding them in my journal, re-working and re-writing them. Finding them again. And deciding on how to bring them into being - it seemed I had so many options.  And this I hope is the first of a few different ways of making this book. 

10. Square Alphabet.

Again, this isn't exactly a thing you can hold in your hands, but I did enjoy the making of this alphabet so much! It was a recollection of a calligraphic exercise from many moons ago, which clearly has strong connections to the Berber alphabet, and ends up being almost a code I can use to write with.

As ever, thanks for coming along on the wander and for being part of my year - I appreciate each and very person who reads and comments and shares their thoughts. This year's top ten had a lot of variety and I think that reflects that I didn't have a body of work I was pulling together, so instead I got to play in lots of different puddles.

Go well into 2026, and may we all find, and share: love and care; peace and generosity; and hope and kindness along the way.

Some Christmas sewing

 It remains a bits and pieces time of year and I have been fiddling with this and then that... achieving very small milestones, and feeling very chuffed when I do!

For some reason I decided I wanted to try and make a some chirpy-cheery table runners and coasters for our Christmas table. Barry and I went and looked at loads of fabric and landed on this lovey bold bright and beautiful gum blossom design by Jocelyn Proust.

I managed to cut and sew all the things I needed, and then I sat quietly fraying edges. Such a therapeutic thing to do - steady and meditative.

I had sewn two pieces together to give it a bit more heft, and this is where I have begun fraying one side of the fabric but not yet the other side.

A before and after so to speak.

And then there were coasters...

And runners...

And there were leftover threads. Plenty of threads.

Enough in fact to make a nest...

Sewing serviettes

 For some reason, I have a thing about fabric serviettes. I sew them from recycled fabrics - old bags, old sheets and the like and I just love having them around. Oftentimes they act as finger wipers say when I'm having morning or afternoon tea - they are rarely big enough to sit in your lap and catch lots of sauce. When made from scraps, they are also oftentimes odd and mismatched sizes.

So I trimmed the old linen sheets, mitred their corners and hemmed them.

Then I went with my wing needle and a hemstitching stitch on the machine and stitched these lovely daisy-like edges. And I now have five more mixed size serviettes to take back to the cottage!

Things aren't always smooth going with me and my sewing, and after the first two, I went to try and sew the next couple and things went seriously awry. I have never seen this happen before and was a tad perplexed. All that bobbin thread pulled up and off the bobbin? 

An impressive tangle that's for sure.

I ended up using my quick unpick to slice the strands off a few at a time and thus release the bobbin. What a sight! To remedy things I simply took all that thread off, wound another full bobbin and set off with fingers crossed that it was simply a case of a poorly wound bobbin. Which I think it was, because the rest of the sewing and hemstitching went smoothly.

I was also gifted some lovely hand embroidered ones from a friend, which we have in Scotland. In a funny turn of events, she asked how they were going; I said we used them every day over there and washed them frequently and they were still going strong. And then. 

A couple of them got caught in a huge wind and a blow as they dried on the washing line at the cottage and the overlocking got shredded.

I brought them back and after having my overlocker serviced, I edged them back together. I had to apologise to her - because I remain somewhat intimidated by my overlocker, I never change the thread. I  overlock anything and everything with grey thread. So this pair will stand out a bit, but they can return to use and that is fine thing!

I do love me a fabric serviette!