The commission continued...

In typical fashion I was trying to push both the book and the wall work along a bit together, figuring that I often feel anxious if one thing is left behind; that they needed to be sympatico; and also making sure I didn't use up all my ideas and techniques in one and leave nothing for the other - Laugh!

Testing writing styles and tools on some rusted paper.

I bought a frame! And then I started to check if some of the elements would work with it.

The map mentioned a five-wire fence, so I thought about how to create that...stitching twigs but resolving the wire approach with Barry's help.

I was beginning to think this could work.

I received the hi res scan of the map as a file, so was able to print it onto fragments of papers to see whether they could be incorporated into the wall work or not.

And started playing with layouts

And then a twig broke when I started to stitch.

So a replacement was found and all was well.

Next up - the final pieces revealed.

Thursday Thoughts...

“orientation 

 Just east of certainty. A little south of courage. 

A hair’s width from ease. Clicks away from ready. 

A turn or two from acceptance. A shuffle from faith. 

A set of stairs from achievement. A riverbed from happiness. 

A handspan from peace. A wink away from freedom. 

A few lines until the poem’s done. 

A highway, a night’s sleep, a phone call, a touch, a rotation of gears away from that certain yes that tells you where you are is exactly where you need to be. 

I know, the signs can look as if they’re missing, and the map so distant and unclear. 

But I’m telling you, you aren’t lost. 

You’re never lost. You’re always here.”  

Maya Stein

As I ponder life for this Thursday Thoughts, I ended up choosing this quote.  I think I chose it because I think it is just lovely, rather than because I thought it might teach me about life, but maybe it does...

As I read and re-read it, the rhythm of it is gentle and the words selected work to make me feel as if this is exactly how I might describe my location or orientation.  To be just east of certainty; or a turn or two from acceptance.

These ways with words suggest that we find ourselves on the edges of certainty, that we are close but not quite at ease or certain or courageous or ready or happy or free.

I like this subtle ambiguity and I like the tension of being close, but not quite.

I must admit that I fear folk who are certain, absolute, unwavering in their positions.  I fear folk who aren't open to questioning, considering, or investigating.  

The older I get, the less I know for sure and I am comforted to think that doesn't mean I am lost; that in fact I am here.

Forsinard Flow, 2019.

A commission revealed...in parts.

 Way back when it seems, we were approached by a lovely man looking to have us make something for his wonderful wife's 50th birthday.  We love the pair of them and immediately said yes!!!

Whilst he wasn't sure exactly what he wanted, he did have some source material for us to reference, and then basically trusted us to come up with something.  Which was a rather nice brief.

The original materials were the metal stencils used to stamp the name of the property onto their bales of wool; along with an original map of the property with hand written notes and the like.

The metal was so gorgeous...

And the marks looked like a landscape.

The stencils were not to be used in the artwork we created - but rather were to inspire us, and they did!

You may recall I thought I had discovered my palette for this work back here... and looking at the image above you can see why above you can see why I felt happy with these papers! 

And the map - such a beautiful thing in its own right.

And so it began.

I worked on an artists' book and a wall piece; and Barry prepared a small sculpture. We arranged to have the map removed from its frame, carefully scanned at hi res and then re-framed (thank you Jame Frames and Mapuccino in Maleny).

More later. You know I love a process post!

Some good news!

Following on from my annual review and our annual planning around life and art, I recently approached the State Library of Queensland about a couple of books.

I asked if they would be interested in 

A Place Among the Clouds;

On Joy; and

 

 

I grow still...

On a visit to GOMA with friends a week or two ago I was able to drop the books off to the Library for appraisal (the buildings are next door neighbours). By the time I got home I had an email with the happy news that they would like like to purchase all three and add them to their collection!

I was thrilled.

The paperwork is underway - making sure I provide enough detail for anybody who may ever 'borrow' them or wish to examine them; and also for the Librarians who need to know how best to store and protect them in perpetuity. 

It is such an honour to be included in this collection - it is a truly fine collection and one of (I actually think the) best artists' book collections in Australia. Happy dance!

Thursday Thoughts...

“Art begins with receptivity” 

Mirabai Starr

I sat with these words for a while.  Is it so? Is it true? I wondered to myself. Does it indeed?

In the end I think I came down on the side of yes it probably does.  On a personal level my best art comes when I listen to a whisper or a nudge or some little niggle that suggests I do something; or that I feel I need, or want, to do something in response.

Sometimes things tell me what they need to become. Fortunately,  I am open to these conversations.

Being open to the connections, the links, the moments and the little gems of ideas that so often float free-from through our consciousness is pretty important to me and my practice.  Sometimes these connections come by talking, by reading, by viewing or by wandering past something and seeing it anew.

I have certainly come to accept that being open, being receptive is something I do for my art.  Being open and receptive suggest to me that I don't blunder forth "knowing" what is best or what needs to be done let alone being absolutely certain of the outcome, that certainly isn't me.  

I am receptive to nudges and whispers and funny little conversations with artworks and materials.  

Being open.

Glacier holes, Canada, 2010.

Gallery gleanings

 As part of a renewed focus on slowing down and enjoying things, and also investing in the idea of an art-filled life, Barry and I are trying to make a time each week to visit/view some art.  We managed that last week in Maryborough (see previous post) and the week before that, we headed to Caboolture and saw two amazing Indigenous Art exhibitions.  Some of my favourite moments follow.

Vernon Ah Kee - exploring notions of becoming; and identity.

I refuse you my death by Dale Harding.  Kangaroo hides, re-stitched and re-formed .

Detail of work by Rosella Namok

The most beautiful display...

The photograph of the attribution panel for the works above and directly below is completely blurry and I apologise for no attribution. The display was part of Manggan - gather, gathers, gathering featuring Indigenous artists from Girringun Aboriginal Art Centre alongside collected objects from the South Australian Museum.

These works are Bagu with Jiman - traditional fire-making tools of the Girrigun rainforest Aboriginal people.

Breathtaking in many ways.

It was due to this visit to the Greater Brisbane Region that we then had to go into self-isolation for three days - worth every minute of it. We didn't go there knowing that we might have to isolate, the government decision came about two days later.

A trip to Maryborough - Impressed!

 Barry and I were recently invited to participate in a printmaker's show at Maryborough. The exhibition is called Impressed, and is on at Gataker's Art Space in Maryborough throughout February. 

The venue is beautiful and our friend Ken Munsie has a solo exhibition downstairs at the same time which is lovely - really worth a visit.

So we drove up to deliver our work a week or so ago. Here is our before shot - laugh!

Maryborough was a very important port and has a fabulous river-side precinct with traditional buildings and lots of public art. They also installed a war memorial in their gardens recently and I was very taken with it in so many ways.  Here are a few of the pieces that caught me.

This is only a small part of the war memorial which is truly beautiful - rusted corten posts curving across, with terraces reflecting the cliffs at Gallipoli.  All beautifully wrought - but it was this fragment of contrast that is my reminder point of the whole.

As you wander through the gardens, there is a path with movement activated voice-stories as well as these sculptures.  Charles Bean's diary, glasses, typewriter and the beginnings of his manuscripts.

I looked across as this woman's form from behind and I thought, she is reading that someone has died. When I faced her I thought maybe she is just reading news from the front; but her posture still speaks of the distance and the dread.

In the concrete path barbed wire was etched along with other map lines of the western front.

It was a beautiful place to visit, reflect and remember. There are just so many pieces of public art from Mary Poppins to posts to stones, to street lights, to murals...

And across the way in an almost falling down building I found part of a wall stitched together with wire.

A short but fabulous visit.