Tuesday, January 23, 2024

New book-ets underway

 I am working towards the Scotland exhibition as well as the Pebbles, Stones, Rocks exhibition and I am juggling the work and moving between the two quite a lot.

Part of my pebbles exhibition work is about pebbles and stones and grief.  I have written three small poem-like pieces each called Grief Is A Stone and have been underway choosing papers, cutting pages, cutting covers, setting type, printing, changing out type, embossing covers and generally getting all the bits ready so that as some point I can stitch them.

What a surprise - I am working with a soft grey cover (Magnani Pescia Grey 300gsm) which I have embossed here for the first book-et.

Inside will be beautiful soft Japanese paper followed by the title page, opening to the poem, and the back with my name and the press on it, followed by the other part of the soft Japanese paper.


They will be in a small edition of 15 each, but I always need to prepare a few more pages in case of stuff ups. Here the Title page for poem 2 and my name are printed; on the other side the poem will be printed. Apologies for the 'soft' focus, aka out of focus.


Here are the pages of poem 1 drying


And here I am mid-way in the changeover from poem 1 to poem 2. I leave all the blocks and lines in the same position, just replacing the type and spacers as needed for the new lines. It is sometimes funny if you get interrupted and wonder which poem you are up to when you return.

Here I am switching out poem 2 to poem 3 and trying to not have the type all fall out and make a huge mess!


Some of the drying racks in use - interspersed with some of B's printing of small cards.


Before I re-set the type I had a 'what if?' moment and printed each of the poems on some nice sturdy pre-cut cards, just in case I want to do something with them as well...

Here are the titles, with the poems on the other side.

It has taken a lot of work to get this far, but there is plenty more to do once they are dry. 

Sunday, January 21, 2024

The Emigrants I

 I am delighted to share this finished work, based on the statue of The Emigrants, in Helmsdale in the Scottish Highlands.

I always appreciate and enjoy when serendipity comes along and let you accomplish things. This work has come about because I was a) doing the course Visual Narratives, through Fibre Arts Take Two; and b) because I have an exhibition coming up in Scotland later in the year and some of the pieces will focus on this statue. I was fortunate enough to then have the online exhibition for students of the course to be called In Retrospect which made me realise I could probably bring all three things together and make a piece that suited them all.

I used techniques from the course, the work fitted the theme In Retrospect, and would be a great start towards the Scottish exhibition.

The work is an unbound book, presented in a hand stitched envelope made from Japanese paper rubbings from our cottage in Scotland, and from our Maleny home, that had been stitched together by machine, and dipped in beeswax. Held with thread from Scotland.

An envelope seemed appropriate - they travel between places...

Inside the envelope are 15 pages of an unbound book, made using techniques explored in the course. The work contemplates and considers what makes a home, and what it is that you would be trying to re-create when you have been forced from your home, and then moved to another country. What is it that home means?


The pages are both landscape and portrait in orientation and the 'title' page reflects this, with home written in both directions using vintage Letraset. 


Each page is a collage of different papers, images and techniques. Each page contains an altered image of the statue, in particular the woman, mother, wife, who looks back at all that she is leaving.

Here, her foot orientated to the past and the land she is leaving whilst everybody else faces forward and away.


Detail of shelter.


I think we often find solace at home, and I imagine it can be hard to find that in the same way in a new and unfamiliar place, country, culture, and climate. But perhaps we know we have created a home, when we do...



I recognise home isn't always a safe place, but it is a place where I feel safe and I imagine one hopes to create that feeling of safety in a new home.


Home can be a haven...


Home can be a place we find and provide care...


Home is a place that holds many memories...


The work is an unbound book, with 14 pages and a title page. The nature of an unbound is profound in my view. It enables a story to be told and re-told in different ways, as needed. As times change. As life changes. As our understanding changes. 

This unbound book also reflects how the foundational elements of 'home' can be re-built in new ways, in new places, creating new stories...


The work can be seen alongside other work by student of the course Visual Narratives. This exhibition catalogue shows so many beautiful pieces, so much heart and so much beauty and skill. I highly recommend a wander through the pages.

The 'hard copy' version of the catalogue will be available within a week or so, and I shall keep you posted.

Thursday, January 18, 2024

Thursday Thoughts...

"I do feel that if you can write one good sentence and then another good sentence and then another, you end up with a good story". 

Amy Hempel

I oftentimes wonder what I love about books, and how they have managed to become such a big part of my life, and the way I make my way through the world.  There are so many wonderful things about books, what they offer and how companionable they can be; but one big thing in their favour is when they are put together with good or beautiful sentences.

I am often stopped in my tracks by a sentence that is glorious. So succinct, or so elegant; so insightful or so sharply observed. Sometimes I am so moved that I think myself, I could die happy if I had written that line. Or how amazing to have been able to come up with that sentence, and then still have to write so many more to make  a full book!

I think that is why I shall probably never write a novel. I could come up with the odd good sentence, but doubt I could sustain it for the tens of thousands of words needed. This is good advice about doing it tho - one good sentence after another.



Tuesday, January 16, 2024

The Shape of Things 6

 I had thought that  in 2024, I would reduce my blogging to two days a week - Thursday Thoughts and Sundays. I thought the sometimes it seemed like I was just trying too hard to fill another day, and that didn't make sense to me, so for the first week or two this year I didn't blog on Tuesdays. Funnily enough I have realised I have so much work going on and so much to blog about that here I am back at Tuesday posting. 

It makes sense to blog on Tuesday when I have something to say; and then not to blog onTuesday when I am quiet. So that is my new approach - flexibility! Tuesdays are back whilst ever I have something to say; they will be quiet on those days not much has been happening...

In completing this final book of the exchange, I once again worked with things I already had in the studio - making the book fit the the shape of the things... 

This time I had pages of differing papers that I had removed from books - so they already had stitching holes pierced in them and were of differing sizes. For some reason I thought this might be a challenge that could work.



In the end the notion worked and the book holds, but the stitching result was not as neat or sturdy as I would have liked - I was trying to modify too many stitching styles to fit the different holes. Nevertheless, I persisted and made a book and I have learned so much along the way.

I again worked with Annwyn's blue coloured pages, and added some white Letraset to them to carry the words along.



Interestingly, the words happened just by working with the paper. They read:

of water, mist and dreaming.




The finished books are quite small - 8cm(h) x 10cm(w) x 6cm(d) when standing open. 

 
And only 8cm(h) x 6cm(w) x 2cm(d) when closed and in their wee pale blue paper cover.


So this is farewell to The Shape of Things, such a great theme to enable us to interpret it as desired, and to create a variety of beautiful and treasured books.

Sunday, January 14, 2024

The Shape of Things - Exchange no. 6

 The first books in the collaborative exchange between Annwyn and I arrived towards the end of January last year, after we had sent each other a bunch of papers for the other to work with and include in the books we would each make.

Our goal was to create two of each book, send one across the waves, and retain one for own collection and learning.

The final books in our exchange were to be posted the first week in January 2024 - after all the Christmas mail had gone. To each of our surprises, the books arrived at each other's homes in almost record time - around about a week!

So today I was able to take Annwyn's book down to the studio to meet my book. I will post on the process of making my The Shape of Things VI soon.

As ever, Annwyn's packaging was beautiful and there is always a degree of discomfort for me as I actually break into them!

The two books together, closed. I love the the little pops of red in Annwyn's book.


and then pow! The red on the inside covers is delicious!


One of the spreads with a print made using some of the braille paper I had sent, on soft feathery paper I had sent. It is a lovely book make your way through - the pages feel beautiful as you turn them.


Detail of the braille paper print.


One of my absolute favourite things about this book is the use of a plate as the back cover. Annwyn's plates are exquisite, so beautifully made, and so precise it is marvellous to be able to hold one and handle one. I am thrilled to bits!



My little books involve a number of pre-loved and pre-used pages which have been brought into service in a new form, as well as some of Annwyn's soft blue papers.



More details of the centre page.


This exchange has been a delight in so many ways. It has helped me focus and re-engage with making, whilst challenging me in ways I did not anticipate. At times it freed up my thinking, at others it made me squirm as I worked within tight (self-imposed) restrictions.

I am honoured to now have six of Annwyn's books in my collection and they will also be there to act as inspiration and reminders of blogging friends across the waves...

Thursday, January 11, 2024

Thursday Thoughts...

“Because in the end, when you lose somebody, every candle, every prayer is not going to make up for the fact that the only thing you have left is a hole in your life where that somebody that you cared about used to be.” 

Damon Salvatore

Around this time of year it seems to me there can be a lot of sadness and reflection abut the loss of those we hold dear. Perhaps we feel their absence more strongly as families gather and celebrations occur.

This quote acknowledges that there is little or nothing we can do to fill the aching hole that appears in our lives when our dear ones die.  The notion of the hole is a big one around grief. Voids, emptiness, dark holes are all images that are used and words spoken to describe the huge absence. 

The quote acknowledges this hole - and the gaping nature of it - but doe not go so far, as others often do, to talk of filling the hole. My sense is it is good to acknowledge the hole and the emptiness, but to speak of filling does not feel right. Filling seems to reflect replacement or papering over or something like that. I think I like the thoughts about working around the hole, building strength around it, connections beyond it, and perhaps just leaving the hole with its edges protected a bit more as time goes along.

Perhaps the hole shrinks in relation to the size it started off as in your daily life, but it is there, and nothing really can replace or fill the hole your loved folk leave. 




Sunday, January 7, 2024

Taking fabrics and threads further

 Work is progressing and whilst things are a little bit here and there still at this time of year, it feels good to be back and moving things along.

Both of these works are for a solo exhibition I have in Scotland toward the end of the year, and they form part of 6 relatively major works I am doing for the show. I have sorted out two pieces; I have these two underway and have no idea about other two yet - so am waiting for inspiration to arrive...

Nevertheless, we progress.

The fabric I was prepping back here has taken the next steps. I have measured lengths of differing widths as I will need seven pieces of different widths (well, one at 14.5cm, 2 @12.5cm, 2 @ 9cm and 2 @ 7.5cm wide) and different lengths, ranging from 1.7m up to 2m long, so quite a few lengths really. There has been a lot of measuring and calculating.

I spent some time this weekend tearing the fabric into widths and then calculating lengths and how to create the right length from a variety of fabrics. My brain did get quite mushy towards the end of it all, but here is how the piles are looking in preparation.



The next steps will be joining the different fabrics to create the right lengths, and then I begin stitching into them; once I have designed the stitching that is. As ever, my work is slow...

In between times I have been taking the work with the pegs further. I have found the frame I want to work with and have trimmed some paper to size to do my trial. I have selected the paper for the final piece after comparing three different ones for strength, weight and colour. 

Here I am checking that the pegs won't be proud of the frame when I have attached them to the paper and the canvas. A very hi tech approach - the eyeball.

I have worked out the layout, the direction of the pegs, the distance between the two columns of pegs and the distance between each peg in the column. I have worked out which way the thread will unfurl from each peg and think I have come down on the side of attaching the labels to the paper slightly underneath the peg (above the peg seemed to distract bit too much, although that is not yet completely resolved). 

I have played around with how the threads will come across from each column and intersect, what colours those threads might be and just how I might stitch them.



I have also selected the colours and the sequence of threads for the stitching , and also how I will attach the pegs to the paper; and then to the canvas. I still have to purchase some thin silver-copper wire for that. Each peg will be held in three places, so I will be piercing 6 holes per peg; and then piercing stitching lines across the page as well.

I intend to do a template-test-trial first just to make sure my ideas pan out; then I will have to do the final.

So, it is good to have started early with this one too!

Thursday, January 4, 2024

Thursday Thoughts...

"An artist’s work is almost entirely inquiry based and self-regulated. It is a fragile process of teaching oneself to work alone, and focusing on how to hone your quirky creative obsessions so that they eventually become so oddly specific that they can only be your own". 

Lehmann Maupin

So many words in this phrase made me smile - inquiry, fragile, alone, hone, quirky, obsessions, oddly...

As I attempted to discover who this person was, I think I worked out that in fact, this is the name of an art gallery, established by Rachel Lehmann and David Maupin; and perhaps these words are extracted from a catalogue or some publication that the gallery made - with no attribution to an individual.

It nevertheless offers beautiful insight into how it feels to be a maker. An artists' work is very often solitary, and is in pursuit of answers to questions of process like What if? How could I? as well as questions of What am I trying to say? and How can I tell the story? How can I make my voice heard?

By describing a process of honing quirky obsessions, you really feel as if they understand the focus on a style or technique or product or theme that is uniquely your own and how that evolves into being you simply making your work - which no other person can make.

A joyful understanding of the artist-maker.


Art in the making, 2024, that feels as if it is absolutely work that could only be mine.