A quarter of the year...

 As you know I decided back in January to try and do a project through the course of this year, that would somehow help me mark the time of Covid.  I had realised that I was in no way prepared for recording last year; but felt that perhaps I could do something to record this year.

My hankie project was begun and I am regularly astonished that quite so many events are noteworthy! I really thought things would quieten down and I would make the occasional foray into the fabric with needle and thread and have some nice highlights or headlines as memories.

Instead, I can barely keep up. So many of the markers are small, yet impactful. The speed with which things can still change - things turn on a dime as they same - means that plans are on, off, stopped, started and each time these things have an impact. Very interesting and surprisingly it keeps you on the edge of your seat just a wee bit.

I am thrilled to say I have finished March!  I have transferred April onto a rather large handkerchief as it seemed so much happened, and have begun to stitch it. I have also begun the recording of May.

A selection of the sorts of things I am recording:

March

8 Bigger weddings and funerals in Queensland

9 Traces in Adelaide waste water from festivals

12 Brisbane Dr tests positive

13 Hospitals and Aged Care in Brisbane locked down

17 Our first flights - entry declarations and masks

23 No access to vaccine appointments

29 Greater Brisbane 3 day lockdown. Masks mandatory in QLD

April began with the Brisbane lockdown ending and finished with the terrible terrible news from India - 100 deaths/hour. In between times we have the absolute hopeless nature of our vaccine rollout "a dog's breakfast", Scotland beginning to ease lockdown, and Perth entering a 3 day lockdown.  One could say never a dull moment.

The three months so far are all different styles and different sizes. 

I learnt a lot from January's very pale stitching! I now have a suite of greys that are slightly darker than the original.

I am pleased I began this as so much happens that I actually forget all the little moments of worry. As I type this, Sydney has re-entered restrictions and folk from their hotspots now have to quarantine in Brisbane on return. 

Things may be improving in some places, but it  seems the globe has a long long way to go before things are settled. 

Thursday Thoughts...

 " Tell me what you read and I'll tell you who you are is true enough, but I'd know you better if you told me what you re-read".

Francois Mauriac

An interesting take on the old adage.  Barry and I regularly cull our book case.  We have whittled them down to the singular, and work hard to keep good books moving around, sharing with others and keeping them circulating.  We do however hang onto the special ones.

As part of our recent move it was interesting to see which ones came with us.  We really were quite ruthless this time, hence the single bookcase. Amongst them are many that we probably plan to dip into and re-read; others that have been read and re-read.

Re-reading can be a bit of a mixed bag though. Sometimes the book offers more; delights you as if for the first time or provides the comfort or solace that you seek.  At other times the re-reading results in nothing more than disappointment. I have been left wondering what on earth I thought I saw in it; why did I think it so wonderful or worthy? How did I deceive myself so comprehensively?

Another adage of course is that books don't change, we do.

Happy to say I have not read, let alone re-read most of the books in the rainbow stack! I often glance at the titles and think, if I am ever really really desperate I might open a couple; but given they were gathered only for their colour that's not so bad.

Urban Grit

When  we moved from our beautiful bush block with gardens and views that went forever, we were fortunate to land with another view; lots of green with gorgeous silhouettes.  

From our front door however,  if we look up and across the way, we see a water tower.  It is brutal in its mere existence.  It towers, literally, and is quite imposing.  Most certainly not like our back view; nor the view from 601. As we walk into town from our new place, we walk past it and its gritty asphalt forecourt and storage areas. 

I am intrigued by how much I enjoy this functional juggernaut that imposes itself upon a rather composed and sedate neighbourhood.  At first I thought I would find it horrid; but I am kind of in awe of its sombre, stoic majesty and enjoy watching it tell its own stories.

Here it is in some of its many moods...

Walking by, through the barbed wire fence, against a thrumming sky, October 2020.

An impending threat of a sky, November 2020.

A cloudy moon night, December 2020.

Bouncy clouds against the blue blue sky, January 2020.

Glowing at night, January 2020.

Eerie storm light, March 2021.

Patchwork cloud fragments, April 2021.

It feels a bit like a sentinel, standing and guarding; watching over.  I feel quite friendly towards it now and often look to see what is saying agains the sky. The sky changes its language.

Nevertheless...

There is plenty going on - still a bit all over the shop, but nevertheless here we go...

For the time being, I think I have finished with my feminist posters. We shall see!

I completed the final fourth one - a revision of nevertheless, she persisted and am happy with the series.

I have been stitching - March is almost done... 

The full moon was behind cloud for much of the night but dazzled nonetheless.

And then I started to follow a what if...

I went to get some PVA glue to seal a collagraph plate.

It had clearly been a while...

Nevertheless I persisted, and went with another idea; how about if the thick sticky glue could create the texture on a collagraph plate instead?

So I pushed it and pulled it and moved it around, and left it to dry.

And the next day it had dried and seemed to have some texture.  I ran out of time to play with it but that's another what if...?

Thursday Thoughts...

“Ultimately, we’re all just walking each other home” 

 Ram Dass

I came across this quote in a book by Anne Lamott, and it grabbed me as one of the most perfect explanations of our roles and our purpose.

So often we strive for high achievement or ticking off boxes and getting somewhere and yet, what a turn around it is to think in this way.

I immediately see images of parents, children, lovers, partners, walking alongside each other.  Being alongside somebody speaks to me of care and companionship.  Of quiet time together, of chatting and laughing and reminiscing.

The sense of walking each other home suggests care and protection, for and of, another - the creation of safety for another, and the space and time to enjoy togetherness.

"Let us go forth and walk each other home" feels like a useful guide for how to go about things...

Illustrated Pooh and Piglet by E.H. Shepard

Back by popular demand!

It was back to printing feminist posters again recently; they seem to have hit a mark with a few folk I know.

This is the wood type flipped for checking.

And a couple of letters that ended up needing to be replaced - a bit to worn and wrecked.  useful for another project no doubt, but not quite right here.

I must admit I am very fond of this one!  This is the first pull - not enough ink and not enough pressure.

Here it is working out better now - inking and pressure in synch.

Lovely!!!

And these two went for another run as well.

Feeling pretty feminist all over at the moment - we sure still need it.  For Australians who haven't yet seen it Brazen Hussies on ABC iView is a great look back at Australian feminists in the 70s and what they faced - brilliant, brazen women each and every one of them.

Today and yesterday...

Today in Australia is ANZAC Day - when we stop to remember and reflect on war and also peace. Last year was the year we remembered by ourselves; we couldn't gather or march or stand together, so instead we stood at the top of our driveway at 6am and listened to the last post.  This year we could gather again, but I didn't feel like participating publicly too much, so instead we attended the small gathering in the village at 6am which was personal and peaceful.

The rosemary entwined around a candlestick in the early dawn light.

ANZAC biscuits were baked and eaten with a cuppa after the small gathering.

As I walked to the studio things were different... 4 biplanes above me.

There was a kind of traffic jam - the Light Horse Brigade about to form and lead the march down Maple St.

I watched them pass by from down at the studio.

Where I fiddled with this remnant print.

And last night we attended the opening of Editions - the printmaking exhibition at the Old Ambo in Nambour. It was a great night and a beautiful exhibition has been gathered together by our friend Ken and his associate Sandy. Well worth a visit!

5 of my pieces together on a wall.

And returning home from the studio this afternoon - the prunus is flowering - before it has gone into hibernation for winter, so I hope the poor wee thing can hold it together until Spring, but it just seemed to say 'peace'...

Thursday Thoughts...

"Art enables us to find ourselves and lose ourselves at the same time".

Thomas Merton

I wonder if there are other things that enable us to lose ourselves and find ourselves at the same time? I think if the word 'art' here encapsulates 'the arts', then most definitely it covers so many things that can inform us of our deeper selves and simultaneously enable us to lose ourselves in whatever the subject is.

So observing or participating in any of the arts can do this I think - listening to music, reading great literature, staring at a painting...you discover things about yourself as you observe; and you can lose yourself deeply in the work.

But his quote holds truest for me with regard to actual making. It is when I am working on something, testing ideas, creating new things, resolving tricky moments, responding to the ah ha moments, trying to bring forth some satisfactory resolution of my concerns or ideas that I truly lose myself.

I go far far away; time alters and I come up for air and wonder where I have been.  

And in that oddest of ways, it is also in those moments that I truly find myself - begin to understand my motivations, my fears, my skills, my strengths, my weaknesses and my frustrations. Those moments when I go "who knew I was a person who would/could do x"?

Here's to making, and finding and losing ourselves.

The sky off the cove at Armadale in 2019... I could get lost in those clouds...

Shadow Play

 We had so much rain, and so many overcast days that when the sun came out again I was dazzled by the beauty of the light; and of course along came the shadows as well.

Here are a few images of shadow play of late.

The late afternoon sun on one of our baskets was so strikingly beautiful.  The shadow on the wall; and the detail of the basket highlighted in all of its intricate beauty.

This piece from several years with my calligraphy cut/etched into a composite panel which hangs outside our grocer.  It describes the walkway that B designed and the thinking behind it all.  The cut outs of the lomandra which feature in the roof of the walkway were dappling shadow over the work as I walked by the other day - a true delight!

Whilst waiting in the car for Barry...my drink bottle!

Glorious morning sun at the front of our house has brought some lovely moments too.

Through a sculpture onto a planter box.

The jagged edges of Ken's chair.

Our gorgeous little kite...

It is so, so good to have shadows again! The warmth of autumn days bring many gifts and these are some of them.

Colourful Capitals complete!

 I did find the time to finish off these fun capitals through the week and I am happy with how they came out. I feel quite scratchy with my calligraphy so its nice to have some time to spend on simple things to remember the how to s.

Once I was happy with the layout and design, I traced the letters.

Then I turned the paper over and rubbed my lead pencil along the lines.  Then I brought the tracing paper right way up again and drew over the original letter lines and transferred the image, right way up, onto the watercolour paper. The opposite to printmaking where thigns have to be back to front so that they print the right way.

The reveals...

I began colouring in the letters.

And then added water.

And in the case of the L; I let it dry and then drew over it with a black pen, then rubbed out the pencil marks.

And with the H I simply had to let it dry and then rub out the pencil marks.  I modified the colour placement in a few of the blocks as per my draft, and think it looks better than before.

And ta da, here they are together, ready to pack and pop in the post!

Truth be told, I had packed them up and sealed the envelope before I remembered that I hadn't actually photographed them finished. Typical. So the caption to this photo should probably read:

And ta da, here they are together, ready to pack again and pop in the post!