Peace weathergrams 2023

We are well ahead of ourselves here, with International Day of Peace still a month and more away, but we have deadlines to meet and other places to be.

We have packed away some peace flags and doves to take with us to Scotland, but until then we have hung this year's on our magnolia tree to fly and dance in the breezes.

Looking lovely in the late afternoon sun before hanging.

With this shot (altho a bit fuzzy), I like that there is a weatherlgram, and a dove, and in the background you can see a metal nest, a timber birdhouse, some rusty birds on sticks and on a dead tree, and a wee green metal bird!

Hanging side by side.

And looking glorious in the sunshine

Stretching to reach the high spots.

We do small things to build peace by piece, by piece...

Thursday Thoughts...

 "From listening to the stories of others, we learn to tell our own."

Margaret Atwood

I think there are a couple of things at play here and it seems to me that in part, Ms Atwood is saying that by listening to how people tell stories - the things they emphasise, the gaps they leave for imagination, the way they build anticipation, the comical anecdotes they include, the surprises they spring - we develop a sense of how to tell our own stories in ways that entertain or educate or engage.

But for me it has a deeper level as well - that as we learn of other people's stories, we can build and bring together things we may not have understood from our own lives, and make sense of our experiences or feelings. Sometimes we might learn it is OK to speak of things previously unspoken. We may learn that we are not alone and can therefore share.

For me, these words also bring together the notion of listening before telling.  So often we feel we need to tell other people things, and we commonly do so without first listening. Ms Atwood suggests first listen, then learn.

Finding my way home... 2010

Flax and stitching slowly

 I began basting this lovely fabric way back here.  I had in mind some work to trial and play with seeing if it was possible to do pebble -like things with it.

It took about a month for it to get done and in between times, lots of other ideas for it have floated in and I am now considering taking the scissors to some of it! Stay tuned.

Front.

And back. Love how wild the stitching gets in places.

Holding and thinking about the fabric made me to pick up some other threads. I had done the basting using a single strand DMC embroidery thread, but began to wonder about the actual stitching into and onto the fabric with this flax.

I had been gifted two skeins of flax on our last visit to Scotland and had wondered what I could do with it. I had grand plans for making a lovely cord like I made here, but may I say the flax had very different ideas!

Barry helped me to undo one skein and to try and pull a single thread out so that I could create some cord. That took quite a while and I realised that I was never going to be able to make cord.

This is the skein unravelled, but the next step of trying to extricate a single thread is so time consuming it is very hard to contemplate.

These next shots show what the flax does. It attaches itself to itself. It is sticky. It is knotty. It has absolutely no interest in separating itself from the skein. There must be a technical term to describe this tenacious characteristic.

As they say, nevertheless I persisted and over several days and nights sitting in front of the tv I managed to release a few metres of flax thread. You can still see how even wound onto the card it is still fluffy.

I hope it will be worth it as the thread looks like it will be the perfect shade for stitching onto the fabric I have prepared.

We shall see!

A collaborative column

 Both Barry and I are a bit focused on using up things we have around the place, rather than purchasing new materials for new projects.

With that in mind he set out to use up some solid timbers that he had in his wood pile.  He cut and routed a number of small cubes which are great for popping into gardens; and we decided that together we would create a tall post for the garden below us.

He routed and inked the meandering line around the four sides of the post, and then together we worked on adding rusty bits to each face. These are photos of B in action.

And of me in action!

I had hammered all these nails in, and we were about to fold the metal over onto the other face. Barry did the lovely folded edge on the left.

I learnt how to attach washers that had a big hole - by added smaller ones on top. Love the look!

It was a very iterative process. We would add an element, review, consider the space that was left, select something to fit or to balance. A really responsive approach.

I loved the cap plate on top of the post. Again the trick of attaching washers with large holes came in very handy...

Earlier in the day we had elevated the post-bench so that it was easier to get down to, and up from. And then with the help of our friend Faith, we positioned the post. 

The view as you walk down through the garden.

The view as you approach from the road below.

And unexpectedly, the view from our back deck! We love how it pops its head over the greenery.

And here is one of those garden cubes - used here near Dad's orchids and one of our garden sculptures. Dad requested it so that when he take the garden hose up that way to water the other orchids we planted around the corner, the hose doesn't damage the orchids or the sculpture. Form AND function.

If you also follow Barry's blog you will get a double dose of the post I think.

Thursday Thoughts...

“As soon as you start to turn within, as soon as you begin to listen to the still small voice within you, as soon as you start to practice self-enquiry, your life begins to change drastically. You become happy. You no longer search for happiness, for you are beginning to realize that you cannot find it externally. You may appear to find it, but it does not last.” 

Robert Adams

I come to quiet knowings...

I have nearly always understood that going inwards, and listening to the quiet voice inside is a way for me to feel grounded, confident and settled.

Whenever I need to make a big decision, or choose how to respond to something - I go inside, I go quiet and I listen.  It rarely lets me down; I have confidence that these quiet knowing are what I need to guide my next steps.

The idea of searching for happiness doesn't resonate as much; perhaps because I don't go searching for it? Perhaps because I am used to a sense of 'rightness' by listening to the quiet that I get some sense of assurance, and perhaps from there come happiness that I am doing the OK things? Who knows, but I do know I must listen for the quiet voice inside.

13 years ago I made and showed this work. I still like it.

Birds, nests and flowers

 We had a lovely wander down the street to some markets on the weekend, and visited a couple of local artisans as well. It always great to support local artists and we came home with some lovely pieces - a couple featuring birds. As I tried to work out where the newest piece could go, I looked around and realised just how many bird and nest related pieces we have with us.

This is the newest piece by Alexandra Bridge - a local artist with a real sensitivity.

This is a favourite piece by our friend Tory . I pop twinkle lights around it and we have added one of Barry's copper pods - nest and egg like references.

And on the shelves in our kitchen are these two, artists' names written somewhere but not here sorry.

A very fine carving into wood with birds on a line...

A small ceramic piece following the same theme.

A couple of originals, artists unknown...

And then some winter flowers from the garden...

Turned into three small arrangements, each with character.

And coming home from a morning walk this is how they looked with that low winter morning light...serendipity.

Could I be more analogue???

I wish, I wish, I wish I had the confidence, time and energy to invest in owning and learning creative software; but I have worked out that I really don't get value for money out of owning or subscribing to it; I just don't use it often enough. 

So whenever I need to prepare stuff it all gets done by hand until I can hand it over to somebody who can digitise it for me and make it into the files necessary for what I am hoping to have done with it. 

So I had done some writing, and had a few tidy up bits to do so I wrote it again, and then traced it. By hand. And then I did the rub the pencil over the back of it,

 before turning it over and tracing over the writing again.

 Which leaves me with an outline, which I then have to trace around with a black pen. By hand.

Having done that I had planned to put a bit of a base plate under the lettering, but I couldn't tell whether some of the letters with a baseline (like the E) would simply sink into the base and look like an F... I just couldn't visualise it from the hand drawn bits. So I decided to cut them out. By hand, of course. 

I was at home and on the dining table I used a dreadful knife and cheap photocopy paper and a tiny cutting mat.

I think the base of the E holds, because next to it you can see pretty readily where the top of the base is (under the F). But the hand drawn lines were still distracting me. 

So I turned it over. And tried to envisage reading backwards and wondering if the lettering made sense, until I had an ah-ha technology moment.

I photographed as it was turned over; then on my phone I flipped it! 

So now I had the back of the words reading as the front. Yay for tech.

As I looked closely at it, I thought the G didn't look quite G enough; so I trimmed the base vertically a tiny bit and now I think it reads more as a G.

Now I know that I think the design will work; I will scan my originals and send them off to be digitally tidied up and then sent off. Fingers crossed.