The story of Conversations

Having shared the get-together of our two books on Wednesday, I thought I'd take the time to show you through my book "Conversations".

These prints were never made to be seen together and I worried, no doubt as Susan did, about how to tell a cohesive story; how to make them seem as if they belonged in the same book.

I spent time pairing them up and finding ones which I felt spoke to each other, and could begin a conversation.

Then I had to work out how to present them, how to link them somehow to stop them looking they were just two prints stuck next to each other.  I know how important words are to me, and this notion just gets regularly re-enforced. It is natural for me to turn to words when trying to find a way through an artistic or design dilemma.

I am also quite regular and structured in my work - I am not a free-flowing organic shape kind of gal. I wondered about writing haiku that drifted across the pages, I wondered about words just dropped into pages…in the end I chose to write a few words about different conversations in a square, centred on the opposite page to the prints.

Detail of a conversation...

One of the warmer pages...

Print and embossing detail…

Each of the written conversations reflect a conversation type I have with friends or family, and which for me could be linked somehow to the imagery.

The end result, was too much structure even for me; staid, a bit sterile, a bit blocky.

I wanted to link the pages, to bring the words and the prints together as if they were conversing, to make them seem joined and connected.  I thought about marks, I thought about stitching and in the end I just chopped some squares and rectangles into embossing plates and hand embossed them in a free-flowing manner across the two pages, linking the imagery and the words. Ahh, now we're talking!

Some more pages…

Having done the pages, the next thing to sort was the cover - how much of the inside to reflect? More embossing? Prints? Free-flowing or structured? 

This is a detail of the cover - wee scraps of prints, both Susan's and mine. These are the same size as the embossed shapes inside the book; yet are structured into a square the same size as the calligraphy block. Somehow this holds...

The quiet 'title' page introduces the conversation, without actually stating a conversation…

So finally, I had a look I was happy with - simple, uncluttered, yet gently conversing across the pages...

Thursday Thoughts...

“Go into the arts. I’m not kidding. The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven’s sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possibly can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.” 

Kurt Vonnegut

I think that any time we can encourage folk, children, young adults, old adults to be a bit creative is great!

It's probably pretty accurate that the arts are not a way to make a living (maybe the 80:20 rule applies; 80% need to do other work and 20% make a living?), but it is a great way to make a life.

The way in which it opens you up, lets you escape, feeds your soul, makes you feel so darn good - all of these things add up to making your life so much better, richer and more wonderful, just to experience the dailiness of life in a creative or artistic way.

Sometimes it's just a fragment of the day; sometimes it's a week-long workshop; sometimes it's every day in large doses.  Having art as a way of being in the world, seeing things and experiencing things is such a wonderful way to be.

Not the most coherent or cogent thoughts by me, but I love his enthusiasm for doing something - no matter what it is - the pay off is fantastic!

Blinds by Mary Heilmann, 1975, Brooklyn Museum

Once again I am playing along with Jennifer and Julie in their search for Roy G. Biv - aka the rainbow of colours (and more this year). The third Thursday of each month they choose to post on a colour and we have started the year with RED. Pop over to see more red, and or to join in!

The books meet and are beautiful

The days when Susan's and my collaborative books get together are always special. Today seemed particularly special as neither of us had seen or heard anything - not a hint or peek, nothing - since we first sat down together to see how we would work with our collection of prints back in November.

You may recall that Susan had boldly cut into the prints; whereas I was far more tentative.

I enjoyed that we both found our own way to have the prints work together, even tho they had never been intended by us as individuals let alone collectively, to be viewed together as a set or a series.

I paid my book scant attention whilst we were away, so had to really get my act together when we returned. Over the weekend I will show you the details of my book, but for today it's all about the books getting together…

I don't think Susan will mind me saying that we were both extraordinarily moved by seeing the two books together.  We hugged, and even shared the odd tear. The first time we've ever be so emotional in response to the getting together.

First of all, we just looked at the covers and could hardly believe our eyes - the similarities were so strong.

We went through each book separately and then turned the pages of them together, just to see how each story unfolded and held together, and how the two books complemented each other so well.  They were beautiful together. And equally beautiful as individuals.

My 'conversations' and Susan's 'daydreams' worked together so well; yet each told its own story uniquely and beautifully.

I don't think we've ever been so aware of our shared aesthetic as we were with these books. We talked a lot about our responses and how we were surprised, but not surprised when we saw each other's book; how we couldn't believe it, yet of course could believe it.

These books feel like companion pieces, or as we said a real pairing.

Of course we got a bit carried away with the lovely angle shots and shadows…

And despite me keeping the prints broadly intact (except for the cover) and Susan cutting them up into much smaller pieces; it was clear that they shared a heritage and had a common beginning.

We talked and talked about what had happened, and agreed that beginning with the same content and broadly agreeing to keep the size and shape pretty similar (Susan's is 22cm square and mine is 25cm square) both played big parts in the way the books looked and felt similar.  For the first time, our books felt biologically related, despite our obvious differences in mark-marking, writing, drawing and even embossing.

As ever, we learnt so much from the process, and we finished with very satisfied sighs.

The wall of small things

In recent times, Barry and I have found that we are purchasing less art, yet we still love to buy it! The slow down has mostly been because our house is filling up with lovely sculptural and 3-D pieces; and our walls are pretty much full with our Aboriginal art collection.

We have nonetheless bought a lot of small pieces and have been talking for a while of making 'a wall of small things' in our office.

Previously on the wall we had a triptych by Walala Tjapaltjarri, one of the Pintupi people who is about my age, but walked out of the desert when he was in his twenties, never having see a white person.  Not really that long ago…

And so because we have been planning and working out what we want to do and achieve, and how we want to spend our time, today we spent the afternoon creating our wall in the office.

Bits and pieces on our work table...

Barry screwing in D-Rings and other holders...

The two anchor pieces by local artist Katie Wells.

The top line organised…

Katie, Rob Natoli and Donna Watson…

Rob, Thich Nhat Thanh, Donna, Massimo Pollelo, local artists Alex Bridges,  Kym Barrett, Jinty Stockings 

Annie Atkinson, David Paulson and Katie.

This is where we got to this afternoon.  We figure if you have to sit at the computer or the desk and work, then you might as well have lovely art to gaze upon!

We still have quite a few to be framed so the afternoon has encouraged us to act on that as well. It was fun, and really the best thing is that we discovered we have room for more beautiful small things!

Here is where Walala's triptych has ended up - on top of our linen cupboard! Still, we get to see them a lot when we come up and down the stairs…

Thursday Thoughts...

“While I’m writing, I’m far away; and when I come back, I’ve gone.” 

Pablo Neruda

This Thursday Thought is supposed to be about books, as I cycle through Art, Life and Books.  In some ways the quote could be about art, the art of writing; but I chose it today because how Pablo Neruda writes about writing is how I often feel about reading.

A good book can well and truly take you out of place and out of time, and let your mind drift and wander as if your current time and place are of no real relevance.  I often find that reading stops the chatter in my mind. It stops me thinking too hard or too much or obsessivelyabout something.

It empties my mind so that it can filled with whatever journey the book is taking me on.

I am reading a book at the moment"World Enough and Time on creativity and slowing down" by Christian McEwan and I am really enjoying how she explores the importance of slowing down, making time for the head to empty; letting daydreams drift through you; walking and observing, noticing the world.

Reading very often refreshes me. by going far away in my mind, by hitting the pause button on life, I come back into the real world refreshed and renewed, and often with a different take on things, even if my reading has had absolutely nothing to do with the issue on my mind. Just going along for the reading ride has helped my mind sift and sort and settle in the background.

I also feel this way about an absorbing day in the studio…I feel as if I come up for air and look around and wonder where I've been for the day…

Hot air balloon in the desert, Arizona.

Book from the Sky

I have been back into the studio, re-acquainting myself with my work, my plans and the space. Gently easing back into the world of making,  I have been focussing on the next book in Susan's and my collaborative series as the two books are due to meet next week. Minor eek!

I can't really show much of where that is up to yet, so I will go back to one of the highlights of our New York visit, which was to see the exhibition ink art at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  There were so many awe-inspiring pieces and I wandered almost in a daze as I exclaimed and examined in equal measure.

This was a piece I am forever grateful that I have seen. Called "Book from the Sky" by Xu Bing, it has been exhibited many times in different countries, yet each time he aims to produce a space where you are immersed in a sea of imaginary words. Each of the characters that appear on the scrolls, on the wall and in the books is an imaginary character,  hand-carved by Xu Bing and printed.

In one of those rare New York moments (although it did happen several times) we were alone with the work, briefly.  It was beautiful and amazing.

So, carrying with me that beautiful feeling of serenity, I shall head back to my work, to my studio space and hopefully create some things of beauty!

My 2013 favourites...

My time for reflecting on the year past and thinking about the year ahead is a bit skew-iff this year because we were away, and are still re-settling ourselves, but I did stop for a moment to consider the pieces I made last year that I feel good about.

I like this little moment, looking back over the year's work and discovering the pieces that spoke to me most, sang to me or of which I felt proudest.

It's like taking a lovely walk or wander with a friend, re-acquainting myself with some pieces that have been away, sold, or stayed.  It's a nice little reminder that despite all the busy-ness of the past year, that I did get to make some stuff.

As per tradition (well I figure 2012 and 2011 and  2009 a tradition do make) they are not numbered in any way, simply listed alphabetically.

1. Dance Lightly a simple feather print over hand written words. It looked beautiful and lots of people bought it. Part of my re-discovery of printmaking and the joy and wonder of it as well.

2. Imagine Peace another print, prepared for Lesley's wee print exchange. I love how you have to work to find peace in the work; and yet the piece is beautiful, like peace.

3. My Secret Story yet another print! This was my first real success with copper sulphate etching on aluminium plate; and it also let me express my sense of asemic writing…

4.  Old Posts hold stories a precious piece for a COMA exhibition, worn wood and white books.

5.  Peace Mends the World hand-stitched copper remnants, encased in perspex pages.

6.  Queensland Literary Awards a collaboration with Barry and wonderful opportunity. Beaten metal covers, embossed pages with hand written calligraphy, encased in perspex again.

7. Quiet, Stillness, Silence a long thin elegant book, soft and gentle.

8. Serendipity one of Susan and my collaborative books for the year; an unbound book with a multiplicity of expressions.

9. Starry Starry Night another collaborative book...

10. Ways of Peace every page hand-designed and cut, gentle messages of peace.

Thanks again for wandering down memory lane with me...

Thursday Thoughts...

"I think we each have a personal sweet spot as well. It's the state of mind in which we experience the most joy and satisfaction in being ourselves. And from that place of pleasure and joy in being ourselves, energy arises to flow out into our day bringing with it the depth and resonance of our own beingness, bringing with it blessing." 

David Spangler

It's that time of year, and I have been doing a lot of quiet pondering, reflecting and checking with myself about possibilities.  As we travelled, we unwound. We left a lot of cares and responsibilities at home and the distance gave us the opportunity to consider, and re-imagine, ways of being.

This quote seems to reflect how I would like to be in the world, how I would like to spend my time and how I would like to experience life. The way in which it speaks of our personal sweet spot, the place within us where we produce our best self and share it with the world. That place from which our positive energy flows. That place where we are truly ourselves.

I can feel it. I can imagine it. And I would love to live my life in such a way that it was possible more often than it has been.

These words will be with me as Barry and spend time over the next wee while reflecting on our achievements in the past year, as well as those things that didn't go so well; and exploring how we might do things differently in the year ahead.  These sentiments will be at the heart of some of the planning I think - how to create the time and space to enjoy being myself and to allow for the best of me to flow out into the world.

A little nook in the studio with lovely things, that let me create...

New Year hopes and wishes

We have made it home safe and sound from our travels. We had a wonderful time, shared some special time with friends and saw some remarkable and inspiring things.

We returned home to a misty and soft day, which was a gentle reintroduction to real life.

This morning we returned to one of our daily rituals; drinking a freshly squeezed lime juice using limes from our tree; gazing over the valley; randomly selecting a word each from our bowl and pondering it through the day. Today felt somewhat auspicious as it was the beginning of a new year, so we paid particular attention to the words we chose, and felt grateful that these words may accompany us through the year.

Barry selected openness, I selected delight, and one jumped out of the bowl unsolicited, and that was love.

Three fabulous words to encourage, guide and remind us throughout the year.

Here is wishing us all a year filled with not only openness, delight and love, but also with peace and moments of joy and happiness; opportunities to create and share; and time with those we love and care about.

Mat and stone by Mary Jane Dodd, words by Fiona Dempster.