Thursday Thoughts...

“We write stories, not because we have answers, but because we have questions.” 

Katherine Paterson

It feels like it's time to write stories.

This quote demonstrates for me how artists and creatives so often are trying to find ways to understand the world around them. The stimulus for work is often about enquiry, rather than expressing certainty.

If not about the subject itself; the enquiry and questioning can often be about process.

Altho of course sometimes the work is about trying to tell truth or a fact that is unwelcome. With stories I imagine a lot of us think as we read, "oh this person knows something", but perhaps they are just like us and trying to work it out as best they can as they go along.

As I think about how a writer might approach their work, I imagine it could start with "What if...?" which is really what this quote is saying in a nutshell I guess!

Ten years ago, the answer to the question "what if I cut a bird shape out of some rust and then tried to print it/transfer it using tea?"

Words at play

 Looking back through my journals and notes it seems like I started to write these words about the way life flows when at the cottage back in 2019...

I did nothing with them, but by 2021 had thought I might add another verb into the mix.

Whilst we were away I had another think upon the words and started to draft some ideas. Here I was working with 5 sentences. 

But this is what I found in my phone and added to last month. I had found 6 in another journal somewhere and written that into my phone, but forgotten I had. So clearly my record keeping needs tidying up.

By adding the dates I tried to firm up the chronology.

This morning I sat and went through them again. I realised I have created six short sentences, and wondered to myself if they wouldn't be better as seven? Seven is a much nicer number.

Rather than revert to five, I went for seven and this is what my book looks like this afternoon after a bit of a play.

And then I tried to be ordered about things and wrote three columns - two verbs and one adverb - and wrote the different words in the columns thinking I could play with this and that - join them up this way, try them that way...

Half way through I then thought to analyse what I had written thus far - hence the bits about syllables. I figured the rhythm should be pretty much the same across the seven sentences.

Clearly nothing is resolved, but the idea of seven works. My understanding of how they are written is better. The direction is underway and soon I shall have my seventh.

Then of course to work out how to present them - but that will emerge. Given it has taken 5 years for the idea to get to this stage, I really hope this is the time to complete it.

I have written notes to myself to stop directing the work, and let it emerge. I had drafted outlines of the book, and the size, and the placement of imagery, and the where the words would go on each page and what typeface I might use, and I just said to myself STOP. 

I hope to now do some playful experimentation and see where the words and possibly the imagery from the previous post take me. Let the words and the work lead me, so often better things emerge that way...

Photographic play

I still struggle to find my way in to making when I am at the cottage; I find it hard to settle and to fix on something and follow it through. The most recent visit made it a bit harder of course with the focus on the exhibition and its associated activities; as well as the fact that one of my art 'studio' desks was used in the exhibition almost halving my space available for 7 weeks!

So I find myself thinking about making a lot, thinking about what next, writing words, playing with photographs and thinking about courses I would like to undertake. In a way, it is a time of quiet pondering rather than creating and I think I can be at peace with that.

I have written some words about the way I feel at the cottage; the ways in which I move and observe more slowly; the way I think and see more deeply. I have plans for the words!

I have also written words about some of the landscape that makes my heart sing, and some of the features that make me smile.

I have plans for them too.

And somehow in amongst it all is the idea of playing with photographic imagery and blending things that go with words. They might be collaged; they might be softened and used as backgrounds, they may yet get more done to them; but I have enjoyed playing with the Snapseed app on my phone to create some layers.

Here are some of them - it can be a bit hit and miss, but most of these I find interesting, and full of possibilities.

I love the seed heads.

I have words about power poles rolling around in my head. The way they are vertical in an utterly horizontal landscape...

Ahhh the chaffinches!

A strange combo of birds, sea  and flowers.

A sheep placed into a rushing by image.

This last one is more of a miss than a hit I think...

But I shall keep trying to work with the images and the words and see where I land.

Thursday Thoughts...

“Hope just means another world might be possible, not promised, not guaranteed. Hope calls for action; action is impossible without hope.” 

Rebecca Solnit

We so definitely need to work out how to have hope and how to hold on to hope at the moment. There are just so many places in the world, so many actions, so many disasters, so many looming crises that hope has to be  a major ingredient in our ability to cope I think.

Rebecca Solnit's writings on hope always give me pause for thought. I love how in these words, hope and action and intertwined. You really can't have one without the other; they are interdependent. 

Her way of describing hope as the idea or notion that another way might be possible. Despite all the signposts or indicators that might suggest to us that it's all going to hell in handcart; hope offers that a different outcome might be possible. That our future is dependent on our present; and our actions in the present can help determine that future.

I also like the manner in which she can live with the ambiguity and uncertainty. There is no promise of a wonderful, bright and beautiful future. There are no guarantees. Just hope.

Crocus blooms in early Spring time.

Some favourites

As we start the wander back to Maleny, I paused to pick my ten favourite images from our time here.  Some of them are beautiful imagery; some are memory triggers; some represent special places or moments. An interesting cornucopia which shows the full ness of life and beauty and wonder. 

In the end I came up with my top 15 I think; no surprises that there were many magical and special moments in our three months!

The bounty with which we were met and welcomed back with was amazing. From this beautiful pot of lavender and lobelia to potatoes and kale and raspberries and eggs and so much produce.

Our beautiful wee cottage looking loved and lovely in the sunshine.

I delighted and surprised myself by having left this beautiful small arrangement of dried seed pods and flowers in the kitchen. I adored finding it and have enjoyed it every single day. Simple beauty. Small moments.

The light and small moments. The drying of the flower and seed heads always seems so poignant and fragile and beautiful to me.

Mounting a successful solo exhibition in a remote locality on the opposite side of the world is an achievement I am proud of. It was a beautiful show and engaged locals and visitors alike with the gentle way in which it told the stories.

The joy of seeing so many of our friends and neighbours at the opening of my exhibition was so so special.

Our very first Northern Lights!

Working with the visitors' thoughts and comments and observations about home, and creating four beautiful books for the Museum was a really lovely thing to do.

Building a kitchen cabinet and bench, and replacing the sink and taps and all the plumbing was an experience! I now know more about plumbing than I ever thought I would, but a huge sense of satisfaction in working together and finishing the kitchen.

So many wonderful morning skies at this time of year; and this was a stunning evening sunset out the bedroom window with our favourite sheep Nellie.

We also enjoyed some bramble rambles, collecting brambles from the roadside and adding them to our breakfasts.

A memorable train trip with some of the magnificent West Coast Highlands opening up before us.

We discovered a great new bakery in Tongue, run by a young couple who make beautiful food and great coffee. It is exciting to see young folk making a commitment to the wild and empty places, and bringing their skills and delights with them to share.

Movement from the train - for me the beginnings of some artwork ideas; but also a sense of just how fast the time seems to have gone.

And now we are on the road again...

Thursday Thoughts...

“To create one’s own world takes courage.”  

Georgia O’Keeffe

In oh so many ways, being an artist takes courage.  There is a certain sense of bravery in taking the decision to try and express your feelings, responses, and observations in a way that becomes visible to others. Things that are in our heads, don't always translate magnificently to the page or the canvas, or the fabric, and the translation can disappoint, which can in turn lead to criticism.

I think Georgia O'Keefe is taking it further than the act of making or creating; beyond to the place where the making and creating IS your world. That you have dedicated your life to being an artist or a creative. That you go without all sorts of things in order to be able to pursue your passion. 

To follow your own uniquely of seeing and committing to it whether or not it is popular or in vogue or well regarded takes courage. I am glad she created her own world for us all to enjoy.

Glenn Ligon, I Found My Voice, 1990

Exciting News

 I received an email the other afternoon, which thrilled and excited me no end.  It was from the Museum and they advised that they wished to purchase two pieces from the exhibition: All That Was Lost; and Bundled and Burnt.

I sat there with tears in my eyes as I read it, to think that these two beautiful pieces had found a home in the place they were meant for. It was so moving, and so special.

I admire the Museum so much for the way in which they have become such a force for contemporary understandings of historical matters. Not only do they honour and value the artefacts they are custodians of; they tell the stories in interesting and visually and aurally stimulating ways. The volunteers are all knowledgeable and helpful and the building and displays are just beautiful.

Their commitment to promoting contemporary art which tells stories is to be admired. The fact that they hold exhibitions with contemporary artistic interpretations of local historical issues is wonderful. That they understand how art offers viewers and visitors another way in to understand nature of history in this area is worthy of applause.

That they then add to their collection of historical artefacts, contemporary artwork is just marvellous. The works will eventually be on show in the cafe near the Museum. As I understand it, the plan is for a renovated and refreshed cafe experience, and within the building the artwork collection will be showcased, which may of course,  encourage folk to go across and visit the Museum as well.

So I have diligently packaged up and labeled the works.

I also provided more information and images of the works for the record.

I included the 4 books I had stitched throughout the exhibition as they were being gifted to the Museum and you also need paperwork for donations!

We are beginning to turn towards returning to Maleny. As ever, the leaving will be bittersweet; but I go with a slight spring in my step knowing that these precious pieces have found the perfect home.

The completion of Hame

 On Saturday afternoon, Barry and I headed to the Museum for one final job. We packed up the student exhibition; collected the furniture we had used for the show and popped it in the van to come back to the cottage; we folded up the calico; and we took the words off the wall.

It always seems fitting that the words are the last to go. They are the first to go on, and they indicate the show will begin. As they come off and disappear they very firmly share the message that the show is over.

This is really just a series, and not even a sequence, of the disappearing...

You can see that the 'e' at the end is going to take some paint with it when it goes...

No matter how careful we are, there are the odd points of weakness on the wall and this spot will need patching and painting.

It was enjoyable, even if tinged with sadness.

Barry finished with the smaller sized text, and I was left to remove the title.

You can't really see here but my thumbnail is trying to lift the letter at the bottom.

And the final letter H is removed.

We were in such a rush to get to dinner, we didn't photograph the blank wall, but there is indeed a blank wall, and the show is over...

What a great delight it has been.

Thursday Thoughts...

“Wear the old coat and buy the new book.” 

Austin Phelps

Oh  my goodness, what can I say, but Hard Agree!!!

I am more than happy to re-work, re-configure, repair and renovate my clothes, and can never walk by a bookshop without stopping in.

In fact we oftentimes make decisions about places to stop and visit based on whether they have an art gallery and/or a book shop! Dingwall had a great gallery and two bookshops...

I am glad that for whatever reason I am a person who is less concerned or excited with new looks and fashions than with new books, new ideas and new perspectives.

Books!