Silence helps no one

I enjoy this creative life so much. Time spent in the studio is never time wasted, and I continue to celebrate those moments when things happen that weren't planned for. 

Serendipity, things coalescing... like alchemy. Some days I feel as if I almost sit outside myself and watch it happen in front of me, without me being in charge at all.

This book was completely unanticipated and unexpected. Suddenly there it was.

The story begins back in Brugge, where I saw a binding done by metal art worker Mathias Claerhout.  Strange combination! The book was under glass, out the back and not part of his real exhibition. It caught my eye and I tried to think my way through what I think he did.

I came home and transferred my thoughts and sketches across into my visual diary-notebook. As I did it, I thought I should have a quick go at this, so I played around with some pages I had lying around, left overs from another play day quite some time ago. I think I got it.

Then I thought about words, and what would suit this form. I went away and wrote some words using my made up script from a few months back.

I found some book cloth and made some covers, used a bit more book cloth to hold the outside pages together. Fiddled a bit here, there and then stitched, and then there it was.

I don't say that to sound trite - I find it remarkable that years of experience and practice, materials I have prepared and accumulated, my pondering and thoughts, all come together and what emerges is a piece I never knew I had in me.

 I wrote this about it earlier today:

 "The supposedly private nature of family violence means we don’t speak, we don’t intervene and we don’t step in; yet more than one woman is killed each week in Australia by a partner or former partner. 

The construction of this books reflects the hidden nature of this violence, how trapped these women often are, and how hard it can be to leave and try to be safe.  It also demonstrates how hard it can feel to step in from the outside and help. Along with some sobering statistics, it tries to remind us of simple things we can do to try and not be bystanders.

The sombre colours and jagged lines express the danger women face as they live their lives, and try to leave; and the despair they feel for themselves and their children".

Another book that focuses on women affected by family violence, called Silence helps no one.

The subject appeared as I went along and thought about what the binding was telling me - what sort of story did it tell? And so it came into being.

Rusting away

I have found myself in the studio over the past few days planning for this, preparing for that. My book "The Nurses", which was in Belgium, is on its way home, and will be heading to another exhibition in a month or so. In between, another gallery has asked if they can show it, but it is at the exact same time that the next gallery has it, so they asked "could you do us another one?".  Hmmm well, maybe I could do another one like it...

So in order to begin I have pulled out the bibs and bobs that went into the last one, the old paper, the embossing and de-bossing plates for the barbed wire, but I just didn't have any of the grey, khaki rusted brown braille paper left for the hand-stitched peace inserts.

I scrambled around and found I still had 7 sheets of the brown braille paper, and thought, well it must be rusted!

On Friday I made up a solution and had my trays ready, and from there I just rusted everything in sight it seemed.

The brown braille paper got done.

Then some white braille paper.

Then I found some white pages that had been cut and were sitting around waiting for something to happen - and so they got rusted too.

I remembered I had cut up heaps of grey Canson for a book workshop that never got used, and out it came as well for rusting - some portrait, some landscape.

And as I wandered about looking for ready-made-for-rusting materials I came across some luggage tags, and thought why not?

The studio floor was covered in wet and rusting paper for about two days.

Sunday, I collected and collated and pressed and now it is all stacked waiting to be the inspiration for something else.

And after all of that,  the good news is I have the paper ready for "The Nurses v.2"!

Thursday Thoughts...

Books take you under the skin of life, and into all the layers of the wind. Once you’ve seen that, it’s so hard existing on the ordinary surface. You’ve got to keep reading, to stay in the deep. 

Sarah Elwell

I love the deep that books provide - like going underwater, deep deep down into the dark, and then the gradual re-surfacing. The re-adjustment to life on the surface, being reminded of what is going on around you as you lift your eyes and mind from the book.

This is a beautiful description of that experience and like a diver trying hard to avoid the bends, I really do prefer to re-surface quite slowly and without a rush.  To re-surface too quickly leaves me feeling jolted, startled and not quite ready for whatever has brought me back.

I can feel quite disoriented if the transition happens too quickly. In a way it's like waking from a dream and trying to work out what is real and what is the dream...

That descriptor of entering into the layers of the wind...what a marvellous vision that again transports you. The very notion that the wind has layers startled me, and then of course I realised that it does, the clouds tell us so.

I think I am a bit addicted to the deep; when I am reading it feels like home and a beautiful place to be.

Emerging from the Deep, Heron Island.

Waxing and rolling

One of the stranger blog post titles I have used, but I was doing two different things but not enough of either of them to warrant their own full post, so here they are together.

Firstly, the waxing.  We recently purchased some really large chunks of bees wax from a friend's garage sale.  The wax was pretty icky (a technical term) and it was a little bit hard to see the beautiful swan underneath the ugly duckling outside, but Barry encouraged me to buy it so that I could use it for encaustic and other lovely wax things.

I'm sorry there are no before shots; nor any action shots of Barry going at it with the machete to cleave off the worst parts and make the chunks small enough for me to manage...

We thought that if I melted it down, then strained it through fly-screen wire, and poured it into waxed paper cups, then it would be in good shape for me to use, and it was!

Here are some of the 'ick' bits I strained off, and some cooled wax - you can see the perfect soft, creamy golden colour of it.

As I was melting, straining and pouring them and letting them cool, I couldn't help thinking I was making lots of coffees for folk. They even look like black coffee, white coffee but then when they harden they don't look like coffee at all...

Here they are finished and stacked in the cupboard under the electric wok for easy access. You can imagine the simply divine smell that came from an a afternoon of melting kilograms of wax.  It was interesting to see quite a few bees buzzing around the studio door.

I have used about 2/3 of my first cup and the wax is simply gorgeous to work with. Sometimes you spend a long time doing background work or preparation work just so that when you need to use something you can - this was one of those tasks, and a good one for the start of the year when I am full of good intentions!

And then to rolling.  On my list for about a year has been to have a play with a 'roller' Barry purchased years ago.  It is for for rolling jewellery metal through but I had some ideas of things we might be able to do with it - just had to find time to play. So we did.

Firstly I wrote out some words and cut them from stiff card.

And then we got going with some aluminium and the roller, and tried to press the words into the aluminium. Impossible to photograph, I'd have to say that nonetheless I was pretty happy with the marks we managed to make.

In case you're wondering, my iPhone has a purples case which gets reflected beautifully...

Lots of food for thought and opportunities to see if we can take this places I think. We have a bit of work to do getting the balance of the rollers right and working out how to not have it pull too much to one side, but oh, the possibilities do excite me!

Favourites from 2014...

I like this time of year for the opportunity it offers to stop and reflect, and to look ahead as well.

One part that always surprises me is the look back over the artworks that I made this year, the ones that I really enjoyed, that made me smile or made me proud. It is quite amazing to realise what I managed to get done, even tho I never feel as if I have accomplished that much.

There is a lovely feeling of meeting old friends again as I wander through, as some have been sold or shipped overseas and aren't in the studio anymore. There were some good ones, some so-so ones and a few that didn't make my heart sing; but here are my favourites from 2014 - as ever, in alphabetical order because I honestly can't choose between them!

1.  Conversations one of my collaborative books with Susan. This one is just so special, containing both of our prints and conversations with friends, I still love holding it and turning the pages...

2. Fragile Gains is a book I am really proud of. Again pursuing a feminist theme, it speaks of how fragile the gains women have made are; and all three copies are now in collections in the USA.

3. Home is a gorgeous simple print on exquisite goyu paper, that spoke to so many people - it sold really well at exhibition and I think I am up to about 32 in an open edition.

4. Library of Lost Words came out of a moment or two of whimsy and just happened. It worked so well and I love it.

5. New York was my place-based alphabet for A Letter a Week, and I love its soft whiteness and all the memories of our last visit.

6. The Nurses is special; it honours the young Australian nurses who went to World War 1 - such an enormous voyage to serve and care for 'our boys'. We were fortunate to travel to Ieper in Belgium and see it on show...

7. Queensland Literary Awards  another collaboration with Barry, it is such an honour to make  these awards and we love them!

8. Urban Grit graced the front cover of Colophon (the journal of the Australian Society of Calligraphers) and was a piece that pushed me out of my comfort zone after  a fabulous workshop with Laurent Pflughaupt.

9. White Ribbon Day is another book in my collaboration with Susan. It reminds us that more than one woman dies each week in Australia at the hands of an intimate partner. A tough, but important book for me.

10. Words of Hope are not so much a piece but a sharing for those who were thought of and cared about in amongst the darkness and despair that sometimes surrounds us. It felt good to send them out into the world on behalf of people who cared.

Thanks again for joining in the wander down memory lane...here's to a year to remember!

Thursday Thoughts...

“The present moment is the
 substance with which the future is
 made. Therefore, the best way to
 take care of the future is to take
 care of the present moment. What
 else can you do?”



Thích Nhất Hạnh

We're back. We had a little break, but we like thinking about things too much and there are too many wonderful words written to not spend time with them, so here we go again...

I chose Thich Nhat Hanh today, partly because I love his words and partly because he is very ill and I wanted to honour him somehow for his gentle work for peace. He suffered a massive stroke a few months back and is quietly living and breathing in a gentle, coma-like state.

As we face a new year and our minds turn to planning and hoping and wishing and promising ourselves, it seems good to be reminded that whilst we may like (as I do) to have plans, that we shouldn't let them rule our lives and be the only source of guidance. To do so, means you miss out on living a bit I think.

On the one hand I realise the deep and everlasting truth of Thich Nhat Hanh's statement; on the other hand I struggle to really believe that all shall be well if I just leave it up this moment to do stuff.

Perhaps it's true because I am using this moment to plan?

It's possibly about actually doing things now that will be useful tomorrow or prepare you for the future - that in fact each thing we do should be valued for its role in making the future. Perhaps its as simple as realising that sitting down and reading a book is a good way to ensure that you will be more relaxed tomorrow?

I'm sure it is very helpful when you are fearful or anxious of the future, tomorrow or even the next hour or so.  We can do little about what will happen in those times ahead; the best we can do is focus on being present, here and now and doing whatever we can in this moment to look after ourselves or others and prepare for what comes.

I think for me, I can get to the point of understanding that it helps remove worry and anxiety by giving a bit of perspective, and still allows me to use the moment to prepare for the future. It doesn't really mean never think about the future, just see what happens moment by moment...

One of my favourite Thich Nhat Hanh quotes - peace is every step in a wee book.

Wishing you all a year of wonder, creativity, sharing, learning and peace. ..

Letterpress play

We have been busy here on the mountain hosting Christmas and visitors and attending events; and the associated cleaning, cooking and washing that accompanies it all. Today we had no commitments to anybody but ourselves and decided this was the time to do two things - begin our New Year's cards, and see if we could have a play with the beautiful letterpress we bought a few months ago.

So we got to combine the two, working out as we went along whether or not we could letterpress print our NY cards this year.

So far so good!

First things first, we changed over the paper that the former owner had used for his registration of work. It was a work of art in its own right, but I wanted a fresh start.

The new paper in place.

Barry and I worked out how to set the small wooden type pieces we had discovered in Paris last month in the chase.  I don't have a great deal of understanding of the language to describe all the parts, so forgive any blunders...

First impressions...we needed to check what might print before we actually inked the plate up fully. The poor old 1 was hardly there at all, the 0 was great and the 2 and the 5 both needed a little bit of assistance.

So we popped the chase out again and taped some paper to the back of the type to lift them forward ever so slightly.

And then the inking began!  I laid on some bright red ink...

And then the press went work. It is the most magnificent design - the rollers go up and down and the plate turns until you have covered the entire plate with an even coating of ink. Just beautiful to behold a machine being so clever.

And the first print! Barry designed a neat way of registering the card - two strips of greyboard with a light covering of paper - and the card slips into it. He turned the wheel and I took the card out and slipped the next one in - a great team.

Here's a bundle beginning to dry.

And here's where I went a little bit crazy with overprinting... not a great look, but it got the brain ticking over about future options...

All in all a delightful way to spend a morning and now I am even keener to sit down and read some of the letterpress books I got for Christmas to get my head totally into letterpress!!

Parcels in the post

Although the title of this post makes perfect sense around this time of year - parcels heading left right and centre across land and sea; it's not about Christmas presents.

One of the lovelies things about blogging has to be the connections you make with like-minded souls, in far-flung corners of the world.

Somehow, blogging helps us find our tribes, and by taking the extra time to read a full post or leave a comment (as opposed to scrolling past a post and 'liking' it) you seem to get to know folk better, learn more about their little whims and oddities and the things they like.

Over the past few months I have been delighted to receive parcels in the post from a couple of blogging buddies; all generous gifts that appeared from across the miles and the oceans.

Firstly, way back, Ellen offered up a giveaway and I managed to sneak in before the deadline because of the time zone difference - yay! Ellen sent thru a fabulous stamp print; and then out of pure generosity of spirit added in these packets of stamps. Oh my. I got them out and played with them on the kitchen bench; admiring the brilliant colours; the designs; the age; the combinations. I am looking forward to using them in some work. Aren't they stunning?

Then Gaby who is more friends with Barry than me in a way, but who knows what I like, offered to send me some old nibs she had come across at a market.  They arrived in the most beautiful package and with lots of heart.  They are now sitting happily with my calligraphy tools in the studio - waiting for their debut! I have got as far as writing test words with them all and working out where they fit in the fine-line, flexible or firm nib category and a couple now have their own holders and are good to go.

And then the other week Jennifer sent through a journal Barry had won in a giveaway on her blog; but included an extra one for me; and some of her beautiful cards (which I have already used).  It utterly delights me to receive such gifts from the heart and from the well of creativity, in the mail, and to go through the unwrapping process with such anticipation, and such gratitude on fully opening.

Thank you one and all - blogging is good!

Christmas Wishes

As Christmas arrives and we turn towards family, friends, community, rituals, and gentle remembering, I wish for peace.

Peace within, peace between us and peace between nations.

To all my blogging friends who share so much and support each other so much, thank you for another year of magic.

Wherever you may be, and however you may spend the time, may your Christmas be bright and beautiful, may you be safe, and may you find and celebrate moments of peace.

Christmas Bush by Maleny printmaker Julie Hanrahan.