Hunny...

...is one of my favourite places in Norfolk. Hunstanton is a seaside town on the North Norfolk coast. If you walk past the shops and the fair rides, along the esplanade and keep going, you eventually get to these wonderfully coloured cliffs, which look like coconut ice on a huge scale. The cliffs are chalk, and the pink staining is apparently caused by rust. When you look at individual rocks, you can see the similarity with rust dyed cloth.

I think when we look for inspiration, we look at things on a big scale...whole landscapes, like the one above. For myself, though, I like to look small, like the landscapes in the little rocks in the other photographs. They have huge potential...perhaps I should have brought the white one home and tried dyeing with it... but I outwalked my strength, yesterday, and couldn't have done so if I'd been paid!

Come In No. 138,,,

...your time's up!

I've joined Blogtoberfest this year, to encourage me to post Every Single Day. And there will be A Giveaway at some point, so watch this space!

Meantime, I'm wondering about windows for the International Quilt Challenge. The logical thing to do is to work from a photograph, but... when I was studying in Russia, a long time ago, I had to write a Russian dissertation. I wrote about the translation of Robert Burns' poetry into Russian by a poet named Marshak. He made a really good job of it, by the way, albeit with ideological slants that occasionally made me wince. I doubt Rabbie would have minded...but I digress. The first sentence was that translation was like a window; whilst you could see through it to the reality beyond, you were always held back and away from chunks of the meaning. That is because in all fictional writing, there is layer upon layer of cultural references, some of which just don't translate from the source language, others which translate only partially. I think it's just like looking through a window; you can see what's going on, but you can't necessarily hear anything, or smell anything...so you lack some information about what is actually going on in the room. I'm wondering how that might be expressed in visual form...

Incidentally, I'm the administrator for the International Quilt Challenge group. We have a waiting list, with a number of names on it, and if we gather enough, we will start a second group going on the same basis as the first. Let me know if you're interested, please, by email or message here or on the IQC blog.

Rats...

I wasn't able to cut any mounts for the pieces I stitched, all twenty of them...mainly because the mount cutter had been borrowed, and trust me, I wasn't going to attempt it without one! So, instead, I opted for the retail therapy option. I've enjoyed knitting my scarf, and thought they might well make good Christmas presents...so I went into a local wool shop and shopped til I dropped (three balls...I put them on the counter after that...). I ended up with the grand total of eleven balls of wool, a jaw dropping (for me) £45 worth. Still, if that gives me Christmas presents for all my female friends, that'll be okay... I might even stick a couple on Etsy, depending how they go.

Knitting, to me, is boring. However, knitting something like a scarf, which is relatively contained, isn't so bad... my boredom threshold isn't as low as all that, after all... so we'll see. Meanwhile, I am woman, see me knit...

The image of course, is my new scarf (that's the pink frothy thing in the bottom left hand side of the image), and my new knitting stash; gorgeous colours and textures. Might even stitch into some of these, or embellish them... watch this space. And of course, there's always felting... I've wanted to get back into wet felting for a while... I feel some scarves coming on that way, too...
Just what I needed, another obsession...

KISS...

is the order of the day with these small pieces. It stands for 'keep it simple, stupid', and is good advice for anyone, along with the idea that less is more. This is a struggle for me...I do a lot of quilting on most pieces, though more recently, I've been aiming to give the impression that I'm drawing with thread, rather than quilting or stitching. I rarely ever stitch for pattern, preferring to create texture and/or line. I'm learning, though, that it's difficult to get texture out of canvas, so will stick with Evolon when printing for stitch. Whilst I have to prepare the Evolon, I much prefer the quilted result, though canvas is okay for line work.

This image, though, does show a bit of texture, which isn't really surprising given that there is a lot of stitch in a relatively small area. It hasn't distorted the canvas, one of the advantages of working with a stiffer cloth than usual. I did decide not to add any more stitch, though; I thought it would make the piece far too fussy if I did. See what you think. And I don't think I need to identify the flower for you...

I sat today and stitched a pile of these small pieces, no bigger than 5" square. Tomorrow, I'll cut mounts for them, and see how they look. If I'm happy, they'll go onto my Etsy shop, which I intend to reopen next week or so (yes, I really am feeling better!). And I'm thinking that some of the images, scaled up, might make nice tshirts, if just for me, so I've opened a Zazzle account, to try it out. Might make some personalised mugs for Christmas presents!

Up And Out...

I've been struggling with depression again for the past few weeks. One of my friends asked me if I had read my own book, 'Finding Your Creative Focus'. 'I've read it', she said, 'It makes a lot of sense. I just wonder if you remember what you wrote'. Of course, I could... albeit not in graphic detail. But I do know that one of the things I think I said in there, was the need to turn up to work regardless of how you feel. No waiting for inspiration to strike, or the muse to call; you just turn up and do the work.

I did that today. I worked on three small pieces, one of which is shown here. And I remembered; I feel sooo much better the minute I start to work. And the improvement in my mood continues for the rest of the day. I just don't seem to be able to remember that work equals happy. Which is rather a pity. But it only seems to be effective if I decide to work without anyone suggesting it to me. No idea why that is... perhaps it's just the habitual reaction of someone who has been told to 'snap out of it', and knows how impossible that is. Making beautiful things, though...that works. And that's how I got up and out of today's bad feelings; hopefully it will continue on into tomorrow. I've promised myself a day of stitching, though, so even if it doesn't appear to have lasted, it will soon come back again.

This particular thing is a manipulated macro image of part of a cyclamen plant, printed on canvas and then stitched into. I've added a detail shot of some of the stitching, and for once got the images uploaded in the right order. That's another thing I can't remember, the order in which I need to upload files to get them to look right... but that's another story. Meanwhile, I'm wondering if actually reading the book would help with the depression, too. I think that for too long, my focus has been too broad. Many moons ago, business guru Tom Peters suggested that successful businesses needed to 'stick to the knitting'. I've finished the scarf I mentioned in the last post, and will start another one, I think, but I don't see knitting in my future, just as I don't see other forms of art, like altered books, except for fun. I do see these manipulated images, lots of flowers, a few hearts and a lot more fun in my life. I think it's time. Now, where's my copy...

Colouring Up...

is always good fun. I did some dyeing last week with Gemma, my apprentice/slave, and finally got round to ironing it. As usual, I forgot to add the Calgon... we never had this problem in Scotland, where water is soft, but Calgon definitely improves the dye take up down here. Still got good results, though, so I forgive my vague self. I really must do some more dyeing; intending to put some of these pretties into the Etsy shop as soon as I get it up and running. Not sure whether to add them as they are, as 18" strips (the fabric is very wide...it effectively provides two Fat Quarters, a Fat Eighth and a bit extra, as I explain to people who are measurement challenged...), or to cut them into Fat Quarters. How do you like to buy your fabric online? All feedback gratefully received. Usually what happens at shows is that I take a lot of FQs and people ask me for larger pieces, and vice versa. I never seem to get the balance right...sigh.

I'm having a happy time making small things for Christmas presents and my festive Open Studios in early December, as well as getting ready for the second International Quilt Challenge challenge. Oh, and there's the little matter of looking after Judy's chickens, dogs and daughter on a part time basis for the next fortnight while she and Haydn are gallavanting around the countryside...they're in Bath today. Lucky them, I've never been, and would love to go. Meantime, though, all of this is keeping me Out Of Trouble, which must be A Good Thing...

Sometimes...

I do things for fun, like the knitting I'm doing today, using Rico Loopy yarn. It's fuschia coloured, and very fast to knit up...it's a bit like knitting with a band of crochet, and it produces flounces. I love it...though it was a tad expensive... but hey. I'm thinking about using it in a quilt at some point, would be fun...

I made the above piece partly for fun, partly for the Dereham Town Quilt (not sure of it's official title, so we'll keep to that for now). It is being made to hang in the Memorial Hall in Dereham, which is being renovated at huge cost as an Art Centre. It is going to be very big, with blocks coming from individuals, groups and businesses throughout the Dereham area. I took a picture of a tulip in the churchyard at Dereham, and that has turned into this little piece of work, which I'm quite pleased with. The block had to have both red and gold in it, as those are the colours in the town shield; I ended up using gold metallic thread to define parts of it. I'm going to make some more of these little pretties to put into my Etsy shop. I'm starting to plan what should go in there. I want to cut back on the variety of things I do, and concentrate on the textile and mixed media work...we'll see how long that lasts... but I have been dyeing recently, so hand dyed cloth is definitely on the list, some gorgeous autumnal colours.

Now...back to the knitting...

Changing My Mind...

 

is, of course, something I do on  a regular basis.  Now that I'm beginning to recover properly from the gall bladder surgery that knocked me sideways earlier on this year, I'm starting to review what I want to be making.  And to my eternal surprise, that includes at least one traditional quilt.  A very simple four patch, in gentle, pastel colours.  With flowers.  Hmm.  Not a style usually associated for me.  And this quilt is for me...to sit on my sofa, so I can wrap myself in it whenever I please.  It'll be called Comfort And Joy; named even although it isn't an art quilt.

Those of you who live nearby know that it was my intention to sell my commercial fabric.  Since most of my work is around manipulated photographs at present, I  figured that this was a good idea...it's only taking up room.  I looked through it this morning, and discovered that...well...I just can't do it.  It's lovely fabric.  It's my fabric.  And I can imagine using it, too.  I can even imagine teaching a scrap quilt class...  'Perfect Squares'... just exploring what can be done with this most flexible of shapes.  Fun, I think...

No, I don't know what's come over me, either.  But hey.  Change is a good thing.  And I'm ready for it.  The image is one I'll be working with soon, probably on Evolon.  It looks as if it wants to be very tactile, perhaps with beads...  hurrah.  

Flowers All The Way...

I have some work showing this weekend at St Andrew's Church in Longham, so went up there with my trusty neighbour, Mike, and his ladder to hang the work. I'm not up to much in the energy stakes, so Mike did most of the work, including hanging some long strips of photographs in archways; they look really good. I don't have a photo at present, but will take one today. I'm sharing the show with some incredible flower arrangements, and it was great to watch them taking form as I directed operations. As you can see, there's some lovely arrangements to look at. I particularly like the croquet arrangement, complete with daisy 'balls'.

I finally found myself chatting to two ladies making an arrangement in the hallway just outside the main church. We talked about all kinds of things, and jointly discussed the arrangement that was taking shape. It was, of course, just like making a painting. Colours, values, shape, line, all are as important in a flower arrangement as in an art work. Finally, we got onto gardens. I don't really do gardens, but my friend Jill has just completed a garden design course, and offered to deal with several years of benign (and not so benign) neglect. I said I was going to have a dyers garden; it turned out that both my companions were dyers and weavers. Much enthusiastic conversation resulted, and an invitation proffered to visit the workshop. Something to look forward to!

If you are interested, more about the Open Weekend can be found here...I'll be around most of the time, cutting lino and playing with Markal sticks. I'm delighted to be able to show some work in a very local setting, within my own village.

Okay...I Give Up...

Six weeks after the operation, I'm still weak and wobbly. Unfortunately, that means that I'm not going to be able to teach at Festival of Quilts this year. If you had booked for one of my workshops, please accept my profound apologies, but I'm just not well enough. This was confirmed by trying to take part in an exhibition on Sunday, and keeling over after an hour or so... not a good look.

Rest and more rest has been prescribed. I've been trying to work, but clearly, that's not helping at all. So I'm giving up for now. Hopefully, by the autumn, I'll be able to get on with things. For the meantime though, I won't be doing much at all, other than editing photographs. I will try to blog from time to time, but normal service isn't likely to be resumed until I'm feeling a lot better. Thank you to all my regular readers for their patience and perseverance over a year of very patchy communication. Normal service will be resumed as soon as I get my energy back!

Down...

but not quite out. As you might be aware, I've been suffering from grumpy gall bladder. Finally, after trying, unsuccessfully, to manage it with diet, I agreed to have my gall bladder removed. This is usually done as keyhole surgery, and so it started... however, it ended as a rather long incision (nearly eight inches end to end), what a nurse described as a 'rummage around' to remove the gallstones that had managed to locate themselves in my bile duct, all forty three of them, and left one stubborn stone lodged there. So, a further intervention involving contortions (me) and a camera (them), was performed to remove the remaining stone. Instead of being in and out of hospital the same day, I spent a week toying with a morphine pump (which kept breaking down) and sleeping a lot. The recuperation period for this kind of thing is six to eight weeks; this is the end of Week Three, and whilst I do feel a lot better, I'm not really up to doing much at all about anything. I will be ready for Festival of Quilts, however, barring accidents and acts of God... I'm teaching various bits and pieces, including lino cutting and working with Markal sticks...

So, I thought I'd explain where I'd gone (Nowhere), apologise for my lack of energy and hope that next week, I'll be feeling like doing some painting.

I do, however, have all forty three gall stones, all of which are relatively small, cream and brown, a bit like rotten baby teeth. I'm planning a small sculpture, with the provisional title 'Points of Pain', which will include razor blades and broken glass. Anyone who has suffered from gallstones will immediately understand the (not so subtle) subtext...

Meanwhile, there is a pile of work waiting, including this image. It wants stitch, apparently. And who am I to argue with that?

Two Days In A Row?

I'd like to say I was turning over a new leaf... and given the subject matter of the images, I guess that's appropriate. I was talking in my last post about making different stitched versions of images. The photographs here are my first attempt at that. As I felt that the first version worked well, the second variant simply has more intense stitching. These are very small pieces; I can't give you exact measurements as they are at home and I'm not (avoiding the resurfacing work going on outside by working in the gallery today). The third variant will probably have minimal stitching. In a way, this is not the best example of the kind of thing I will be doing, because it is so unambiguous in its structure. Other images are much more abstract and therefore open to much broader interpretations.

I intend to mount all these works, and frame some of them. I'm no longer very comfortable with unframed work. Of course, this means that I won't be able to enter quilt shows with these works, unless I make work specifically for that purpose, but I don't suppose that's much of a problem.

Disappearing Act

Yes, I did another one... more illness, mine and injury, a friend's. I'd like to say I'm back on track, two thirds through Open Studios, and feeling good... but I have to go into hospital for an operation, so I'll be quietish for a while. That said, as I'm not supposed to be doing anything much, I might well take the opportunity to catch up with my blogs.

Where was I? Talking about the intentions for the new work. To give you an idea of how it's progressing, here's an image from one of the photographs I showed last time. It's printed on canvas, and stitched. I'd be interested to hear any feedback you have. I'm fairly pleased with this one, though I do have some that I've worked on since, and been less happy about. It's a learning curve, I guess.

It is my intention to print each one of these as a limited edition photograph in its own right, but also to make several stitched pieces from each image, with each of the stitched pieces unique. I don't like repeating myself, but I do like the idea of mini series within an overarching theme. It'll be interesting to see how that goes. I find myself taking from fifty to a hundred photographs each time I find an interesting flower, so you can imagine, I have no shortage of material. And I've digressed into other materials, too, so this may run and run. I feel happy to have found an interesting, challenging and wholly unexpected subject to work with.

The pieces are small; the largest size I can print is 24" in width, though I can make each piece as long as I like. I'm experimenting with sizes, to see what works well, and what doesn't. It's a fascinating journey, and Big Bertha, the printer, is meeting my every expectation. Watch this space!

Going Floral...

in a big way. I didn't think that was my style, but there is a story behind the images. I went out to take photographs in the local graveyard, intending mostly to take lichens and moss, that kind of thing, for another purpose entirely, when I came across three tulips. I suspect that they had been placed on a particular grave, but then kicked or thrown apart, and left where they landed. One was tucked into a tree trunk, so perhaps they were placed in a more deliberate fashion, but either way, I was struck by their beauty. They were obviously dying; no water for a couple of days, and it has been cold around here. Nonetheless, they looked amazing, so I took some close up images of them, which I then manipulated in Paint Shop Pro. Yesterday, I printed the two images above out on Big Bertha, and I'm just about to go upstairs to spend the afternoon stitching them. Although I don't usually, I might even enter them into a show, if I feel they're good enough. I used canvas which had been prepared for inkjet printing; whilst it is firmer than the cloth I would usually use, the results are good, and there doesn't seem to be any reason why stitch would not be successful. We'll soon see...

I see these images as a logical extension of my abstract and non representational work in both paint and cloth. In some ways, they relate quite closely to the painting I showed you yesterday. I don't really see myself stitching into straightforward, unaltered photographs, or including them in my work. If it's a good photograph, then it's a good photograph, and should be shown as such. If, however, I can express a feeling or an idea by taking a photograph, manipulating the image and then stitching or painting into it, Iwill. That feels like a legitimate use of photography in my work. That said, the series of portraits I'm making don't seem to require stitch, and may well be presented as photographs, pure and simple. It's important to understand when to stitch, and when not to. Just because I can, is not a good enough reason; the stitch has to add to the meaning of the piece, or it should not be there.

Painting...

may be as close as we get to 'Spring at the moment, although it is much warmer than it was a couple of days ago. Looking at the paintings I submitted to the art fair, which were of summer gardens, I thought it was time that a spring garden found its way to the easel...and so it has. I like this painting a lot, it has an energy about it that encourages thoughts of new growth and change, at least for me.

I popped into the gallery and framed a small painting last night, perfectly well, and then managed to screw up today with another... clearly this is a long, long learning curve. Sigh. Still, whilst I might never make a framer, at least I can frame my own work, and am doing so, for Open Studios in May. I'm opening my own studios this time, unlike last year, when I was showing at the Gallery. I prefer showing in my own environment, and I'll be working steadily throughout the time I'm open. Check out this year's Norfolk Open Studios here.

I'm working with Bertha today, printing out large scale images for stitch... more of that later.
What are you up to today? Hope it's something creative.

Quietly Confused...

I've applied to take part in an Art Fair in London this May; the closing date was yesterday. 'Send (images of) your best work', they said. I struggled with this for a long time. My immediate thought was, 'I haven't done it yet...' but of course, that's not what they meant. In the end, I chose eight pieces, which seemed to relate to each other, and which I'm proud of. I'm not sure that it's my 'best' work...but perhaps that's just subjective. The one I'm proudest of... actually, there are several, so one of them, 'Losing My Religion', is shown here. I think the thing that all these paintings have in common, is their energy. This is a fierce painting, about a difficult time in my life, when I burned out (aka The Breakdown From Hell). The eight aren't all fierce, they have different moods, different feels to them, but the amount of energy in each is similar. Different, but similar amounts.

What truly interested me is that although textiles is the area I'm known for (if I'm known for anything...), but there isn't a textile among them. I hope the textiles I make in the next year or so will be as powerful as the paintings. At present, they aren't, and I'm not sure why. Perhaps it is the medium itself, but I doubt it. I think this is a process thing, and I need to work it out for myself. I seem to start textiles in a different place entirely from where I start a painting. One of my textile friends, Jane, commented yesterday that the paintings would have benefited from having stitch added. I'm not sure I agree, but I could see where she was coming from. I don't feel my textiles have the power that my paintings do. That is going to change... but for today, I'm going to make a painting. I haven't painted for some time, and I realised, as Haydn was photographing the work, that I wanted to paint some more. I know, for once, exactly what I'm going to paint, and I'm off to the Little Green Shed, now that the heaters have been on for a while, and I'm going to paint it...a spring garden. Hope and rebirth...strong ideas, strong images, I hope.

Today...

is an I Feel Better sort of a day. After yesterday's dental angst (a tooth removed and a filling), I woke up today and thought...mmm...I've actually got some energy! Which is just as well, really, as I found that I have no batting (well, okay, almost no batting...other than some wonderful wool stuff, which I'm hoarding for no reason other than the fact that I really love working with wool...might make a knee rug with it for the winter). So, I rang my friend Judy and said, come and play...and we went to a quilting and arts supplies shop for the morning (well, it is rather large...). Sixty pounds and two hours later, I thought that a Sit Down was in order, so we went to a lovely cafe, the Park Charity Cafe, which is run entirely to support two charities, and had Cake and Coffee. Yum. In deference to my gall bladder I had a small cake, a raspberry and lime cupcake, which was truly delicious and very pretty, to boot. And then home again.

Given that I still have some energy left, I'm planning to quilt this afternoon, and, if I still feel okay tomorrow, to pop into the Gallery and cut some mounts, at least. I found a piece of cotton that I'd dye painted/printed, and thought it looked Rather Promising. Photos tomorrow. Meanwhile, I did some frog stitch on this little piece, which was cut out of a Much Larger Piece that wasn't working. It's a deconstructed screen print on a lovely piece of vintage French linen, quite a rough weave, I like it a lot. The photo doesn't really do it justice, unfortunately. I've taken most, but not all of the stitching out, as it made sense in the context of the larger piece, but less so now that I've cropped it. Hopefully, I'll be able to quilt them both today, but looking at the time, I think perhaps one or the other... I'm running out of daylight, and I don't like quilting in artificial light.

Meantime, if anyone knows where I've put my Bondaweb, please do tell. I didn't think it was possible to lose a whole bolt of the stuff, but I have proved myself wrong. So it's out with the spray glue, instead...needs must, etc.

Slowly, slowly...

a bit like a snail, I'm getting to do a little bit of work. I underestimated this illness in my last post, and most of the things I wanted to get done, haven't. More lying about, reading, and generally not doing much. But it has had its upside. I've managed to make some more of the depression images, ready to print on Bertha. I really must stop calling them 'the depression images'; they are, in fact, part of a series called 'Inside Out'. The problem with mental health issues is that nobody sees anything wrong with you; this series is an attempt to take what's happening on the inside, a morass of pain, fear, rage, and show it on the outside. Portraits of unhappy people are not common... it's interesting to do this work, and it has lots of potential, I think.

But the image I'm showing you is of a little ACEO, proof that I'm not dead yet, creatively speaking, anyway. It's called 'Life's A Beach', and, as always, has been made using several layers of texture, and a bit of glitz. I hope it depicts the textures of a summer's day at the beach. Yes, I'm looking forward to the spring and summer...

I have the dentist tomorrow, which I'm not looking forward to, as he is intending to take a tooth out. Not my favourite occupation, but at least I'll be sitting down...

Recovering Slowly...

p
more slowly than I thought possible, to be honest. I managed to make my first frame, successfully, even cut the glass...and was then cut down myself, by a gall bladder related illness that has kept me abed for a fortnight, and even now, is limiting what I can do, and how much energy I have. Needless to say, I have finally decided to have the operation to remove the gall bladder; I can't spend huge chunks of time in bed feeling sorry for myself and too exhausted to move. So that's where I've been these last few weeks.

Before I disappeared to bed, I talked about some work I'd quilted; the images are shown above. One is a simple bubblewrap print, called Bubbles, on some hand dyed fabric. The second is a layered print on Evolon, which needs some more work done on it. The third is a monoprint, also on Evolon, called Red Sun; it, too, could do with some more attention, methinks. Though perhaps, not a great deal. This stuff feels like work that is past, disjointed pieces that have links to each other, but not obvious to anyone but me, and mostly made for a project that I have abandoned. Yet it feels wasteful to abandon the work; there is quite a bit of it. So I will finish, mount and frame what I can, and dispose of the rest. Scrap, anyone?

I have a lot of ideas for new work, but haven't yet begun it. The first step, I think, will be a sketchbook for that project. This is not usual for me; I usually make things up as I go along. This project, though, may well involve other people, and is very complex, including a large scale installation work, which I've never done before. It's a bit scary. Actually, it's a lot scary. Still...things could be worse...at least the ideas are there. So tomorrow, I go buy the sketchbook, and work on it during my rest breaks at the gallery. Having got to the point where I can actually frame, I think I'd better get some practice in, but I'm not convinced I'll manage a whole day. At least this way, I can sit on the sofa and use the time productively.

One thing at a time, though. Having found my camera this morning (lost for a week...in the bottom of a bag full of fabric, where I left it...sigh), I have things to photograph for Etsy, including some lovely hand dyed kiddies t shirts, all ready for spring. Which is coming...honest it is!

All Cut Up...

My first week of framing, and I've produced...well... not a huge amount...but I have learned to cut things up, using the specialist machinery. I started with the mount cutter, and cut the mounts shown in the picture, as well as cutting some ACEO bases from the scrap. Waste not, want not, as they say. The ACEOs will be heavier and thicker than usual, but they're ideal for mixed media, assemblage and anything else that needs a bit more support. I'll probably pop them into the Etsy shop, as there are too many for me to use on my own! Then I started using the machine pictured above, which cuts the mouldings. That took a bit of practice, and a lot of confidence; the blades are super sharp. But my first frame is shown here, too, or at least, the bits ready to stick together. That's next week's lesson, along with glass cutting!

I'm also working on some textiles that came in, blocking and lacing an embroidery, so that it sits nicely in the frame. It's nice to feel that there are one or two things I already know how to do, particularly as it feels as if I've made every mistake in the book in my first week! And I have also learned how to finish off the frames this week, so I'm feeling pleased with myself. The gallery is closed on Monday, so I'll be getting some of my own work done, printing a digitally manipulated landscape onto Evolon using Big Bertha, my 24" Epson printer, so that I can stitch into it in the afternoon. I also managed to squeeze in some stitch yesterday; watch the blog for more info!

I'm thoroughly enjoying learning to frame; I wasn't sure that I would. But it's very satisfying to see the completed piece. I'm planning to frame a piece of my own from start to finish next week, just to prove I can do it, to myself; Haydn seems quietly confident that I'm doing fine. Phew!

The Oldest Apprentice In Town?

Possibly. Yes, that would be me. Today was the first day spent with Haydn. I learned how to cut a mount, and how to make a frame. I made four mounts, two of which went off to live with a customer as part of a framed photograph (oh yes, I'm smug...). I also practised using the machine that cuts the moulding, so that I know how to use it. Tomorrow, I'll be cutting more mounts, on the principle that practice makes perfect, and cutting more bits of scrap wood up, to get the hang of the machine.

I'm aiming for Unconscious Competence. I love this model of learning, which suggests that there are four stages. You start off at Unconscious Incompetence; you don't know how to do whatever it is, and, in fact don't know what you have to learn to do it. Then you move to Conscious Incompetence; you know that you can't do it, but at least you know what it is you have to learn (which is pretty much the stage I'm at at the moment for mount cutting, if not for everything else). Then, you move to Conscious Competence; you've learned what you need to know to do whatever it is, but you do have to concentrate hard and occasionally check your notes, just to be on the safe side. Unconscious Competence is the final stage...you do whatever it is almost without thinking about it, as when you drive for fifty miles and realise you don't actually remember doing it. I don't know how long it's going to take me, but I suspect it'll be a while. For more information about this useful wee matrix, take a look here.

What I did discover, though, is that a. I can do this, and b. I like it. I'm really excited about the thought of being able to carry out every stage in the creation of an art work, from its conception through to its framing. Watch this space for more bulletins (and even a few pictures!).

I didn't take any pictures today; the mounts I cut were for a portrait, and it didn't seem appropriate to show that here. Instead, feast your eyes on an older piece, Blue Maze, which doesn't have a frame...yet...

In The Middle Of The Night...

toothache struck, and despite painkillers, kept me awake for hours. I decided that the colour of toothache is a vivid green interwoven with magenta and stainless steel (no, I don't get it either...). Then, I realised I hadn't signed any of the work I made yesterday. I routinely forget to do that. Partly, I think, it's that I find a signature obtrusive. I want to have the work stand cleanly as it is, not marred with a mark that's extraneous to the meaning. Partly, I think it's just pure egotism, and it should be unnecessary. But interestingly, at Open Studios last year, it was what almost every visitor picked up on. Clearly there is an expectation that artists sign their work. So I've designed a signature, my initials, really, and the date. It'll slip into a corner, and will only be noticeable if you look really hard.

The image is the piece of work I finished, the second in a series called 'Outburst'. See what you think. Mixed media on canvas, this one is quite a bit larger than the last; the edges of the easel give you a feel for its size. (it's raining cats and dogs, so I'm NOT going out to the shed to measure it right this minute!). Thank you to everyone who commented yesterday; I can't always reply, but I do appreciate the comments.

In The Shed...

there's always something to do. In this case, it involved getting covered in red paint...and a bit of orange. I haven't painted in nearly a year, and it was a joy to go out to the shed today and play with paint. This is a very small piece, on canvas, about eight inches square, I think (it's still out there, drying, which in this weather, will Take A While). It is called 'Flame', and I'm not convinced that it is finished...but then, I rarely ever am. I worked on four different paintings today, finishing one that had been lying around for a while (at least, I think it's finished), as well as starting three more from scratch. None of them seem to resemble my dream, though. And that's okay. I am experimenting with different approaches, different ideas, as I always do, discovering things for myself, expanding the initial idea.

Meanwhile, though, better go take the paint off my hands...

Dreaming

I've always said that it's just a question of letting my conscious mind talk to my unconscious mind. Often, that can take weeks, months, even years. Recently though, I found myself considering entering a show entitled 'Flying Colours'. And then, I let the idea go, consciously, as I couldn't think of an idea. This past week, though, I've been dreaming about a particular idea; clearly my unconscious mind is a lot savvier than my conscious. Not only did it show me what a completed piece might look like, it has been considering the process of developing the piece, what size it might be, how it might look, different ways of gaining a particular effect. All this over a series of dreams, with me waking occasionally, thinking about it and going back to sleep, to take up the dream again where I left off. I've often dreamed in this way, but never about art. I think I'm going to take the hint, and get on with it. It would be churlish not to! Besides, it looks to me to be a good idea. I like it. It's even consistent with what I've been doing, an extension of some of the mixed media work I've made over the past couple of years. I'm stunned.

Now, all I have to do is get to work. That's for tomorrow; I'm recovering from a virus, and I know that if I rush out and overdo things, I'll run the risk of relapsing. I can, however, go out and check the paint stores... and this afternoon, I think I'll go sit and quilt.

How about you? Have you got back into creative work this year already? If not, what would give you a kick start? Or just a gentle nudge? Got it? What are you waiting for?

Happy New Year!

January was named for the god Janus, who had two faces; he looked both forwards and backwards, ideal for the start of the year. Looking backwards, last year was a year like any other, a mixture of highs, lows and humdrums. It was my fiftieth birthday in May, my sister surprised me with a visit, and my friends Judy and Haydn threw a surprise party for me (my first ever!). My gall bladder got grumpy, I acquired varifocals (not sure which category that fits into!), I wrote a lot, didn't make much in the way of art, and popped up in a variety of places, including my first trip to Dublin for the Knitting and Stitching Show. And we got together with Tracey (my soon to be daughter in law) and her parents down here and had a great time, making the wedding invitations, drinking pink champagne and generally having a laugh! And my first Christmas with my sister since my mid teens ended the year with a bang!

This year, there are things to look forward to; Andrew and Tracey's wedding, FOQ, Open Studios, learning to frame and the move of the gallery to a beautiful public space, where I'll be curating exhibitions as well as showing my work (but more of that another time). Above all, though, I'll be working on a new book, with my friend Jill Arnold, and making a lot of work. I don't believe in New Year's Resolutions, but I do believe in having a life purpose, which informs the work, and the rest of my life, to boot. My life purpose is twofold; the creation of joy, and the creation of meaning. Joy was a bit scarce in some parts of last year; come to think of it, meaning was, too. This year, I get back to basics. Make the work, and then make some more. It's really simple. Hope you all have a wonderful, creative and fulfilling year, whatever your life purpose is.

ps the quilt is 'Gestation', which seems to go nicely with the theme of the blog today. I think I've been brewing a lot of new ideas last year, which get to be expressed this year. Hurrah!

Mad As It May Seem...

in the current weather, I'm off to Scotland for Christmas. House and cats will be well looked after, and I'm not away for long, so I'll pop up to annoy everyone between Christmas and New Year.

Thank you to everyone who has persevered with me and this blog over what has proved to be a much more difficult year than I anticipated, and welcome to those of you who are new to my blog and work. There'll be a lot to look forward to next year, including a blog on creativity...so watch this space for more details!

Have a very joyful Christmas!

The Joy of Clearing Out...

is that you find things you'd forgotten you had. The image above is a piece of cloth I made as a sample for a fabric painting evening with my regular Tuesday evening class at the gallery in the late summer. We'd discovered the joys of dyeing the week before, and they had loved it; they were, however, less enamoured of fabric paint, mostly, I think, because the most delicious bit of dyeing is the 'wow' factor when you take the cloth out of the container, and discover what it has become. With fabric paint, it grows in front of your eyes, like a painting.

As you can see, we used a variety of techniqes; I wanted them to experiment with all sorts of different ways of applying paint onto fabric. Now, I'm wondering just what to do with this piece... I'm tempted to cut it into strips of different widths, and stitch it back together with some darker green fabric in between the strips...a bit like tree trunks... it has a tree-ish feel. Or maybe I'll add more paint, first, and see what we get. Arashi shibori with very dark green paint, perhaps.

Interestingly, when we reviewed the learning the class has made this past year, one of the first comments was; I learned that if you don't put the soda ash in, you're going to be very disappointed.... clearly that was one lesson that really struck home. Some things you have to learn by experience, and I don't think any of my students will be doing that one again!

Back To Work

at last... the images are of 'Celtic Dreaming'. This piece has been lying about in my studio waiting for me to clear a path to the sewing machine for at least six months. It was made from cloth from my friend Lynn's stash. She made the rubbing that features in the centre; she and husband Don had a passion for things Celtic, to the point that they moved over to Scotland from the US on their retiral. As you know, if you read this blog regularly, I have a lot of cloth from her stash, which I 'inherited' thanks to Don's kindness. Interestingly, though the cloth is mostly her choice, the purples are all mine. When she came over from the US, I donated a lot of cloth to her stash, the kind of bits and pieces that you don't pay good money to send over from the US, the odds and sods that all of us keep just in case. All the purple is my hand dyes; the top piece is a jacquard weave, a piece of vintage cloth that I dyed. I like dyeing jacquards; the texture, as you can see, is just incredible when you do so. The narrow side borders were just ordinary cotton. The bottom piece, though, was a piece of dye catcher which had, indeed, caught rather a lot of dye! I deliberately put a piece in to the first rinse of a batch of blues/reds/purples, to see what would happen. Again, its texture is magnificent, and I'm intending to make more of these. I'm sure that I don't understand the dye chemistry of the sheets, and I'm equally sure that, for results like this, I don't care, either!

The piece is called 'Celtic Dreaming', and I've included some close ups of the quilting, either words or patterns that have a link with Scotland, such as the roses at the top, which are based on Rennie Mackintosh designs. It was his wife, I believe, who created the pattern for textiles, though Charles himself generally speaking got most, if not all, of the credit. The words read ; 'Dreaming Celtic Dreams' and 'Sleep sweetly, dreamer'. I think Lynn would approve. I miss her a lot.

I then went on to do a bit of quilting on my sister's lap quilt, which I've been working on for, oh, about two years. It's nearly done, but as she might take a squint at this blog, I'm not publishing pictures. She'll just have to wait... The quilting is interesting on this piece, too...I hope, a variety of patterns. You'll see when I eventually finish it and give it to her; I promise to add some photos here.

It was a real pleasure to work with cottons for a change; I'm not sure that they will ever replace the spun bonded polyesters in my affections, but there is something very comforting about the way in which cotton transforms as you stitch it. I'm clearing out my work rooms, ready for next year, and I'm discovering all sorts of wee bits and pieces that I'd like to play with. I've decided to work in two ways, next year. One is to work with the theme I've been working on for many years, cracks and scars, in the way that I've shown you recently. The other is to work with the theme of 'hearts and flowers'. A good friend pointed out recently that for someone whose life purpose was 'the creation of joy', I didn't make work that was, of its nature, joyful. For me, working with bad memories, and turning them into works of art that speak to people about their own stories, as well as mine, is a process that is inherently joyful, but I know what she means. Hence, the idea of 'hearts and flowers'.

Oh, and there's a third. I'm going to be making landscapes, this year, too, for an ongoing project with my lovely friend Jill Arnold. And a fourth; next year, I learn to frame properly. Hurrah! My friend Haydn has offered to teach me, and I'm going to rise to the challenge. And, as someone whose lines are never straight, I'm thinking that it might be a significant challenge! Thank goodness for the machines, which do the straight lines for you... wish me luck!

Oh, and ps. The reason for the hair on the second image was that Merlin decided in his infinite wisdom that the quilt was a kitty prayer mat, and stretched himself out accordingly. Might put that particular photo on I can haz Cheezeburger....

Nature...

is by her very essence, an artist. And then man intervenes, adding random marks, another layer of meaning onto what was inherently perfect; who said that perfection was sterile? I love this photograph, taken in the last lot of snow; there hasn't been enough snow here to make going out to photograph worth it, just a slight sprinkling, like icing sugar on a cake. Leaves trapped in a layer of frozen snow and ice, with tyre marks lying on the surface.

I'm now wondering how to use this image. Lots of different approaches are possible, and I suspect that more than one will be 'perfect' for this photograph. For me, the main thing will be to decide what it is I want to express. There are so many possibilities here; the layers, the translucence, the colour, the feel of the piece... which suggests a series to me. I'll also use it as a layer on one of the self portraits I've been doing 'about' depression. The metaphor of being 'frozen' fits depression really well; your mind and body slow down until you can't move or think straight.

I've never believed people when they say they have no original ideas. I think what they mean is that they're not looking hard enough. And I use the word looking, deliberately. Anyone can think. Artists look, first, then think. Why not try it, the next time you tell yourself you're blocked or stuck? And watch this space, to see what comes from this image, though it's not likely to happen til after the holidays; too much to do in the way of domestic trivia and travelling.

Demonstrating At Shows...

is great fun. You get to talk to all kinds of people about all kinds of things. When it's over, though, you have a great big pile of samples. Most of these reflect whatever it was I fancied doing at the time, and/or what I happen to be teaching at the show, as well as the size of the space I have to work in (not big). I do tend to work in either Evolon or Lutradur, for obvious reasons (well, okay, I'm obsessed...you read it here first...).

This particular piece is a combination of things. This will not surprise you; I rarely ever stick with one thing, but other than my butterfly mind, it also reflected that I was teaching two different classes, one on mono-printing, the other on mark making using Markal sticks. It started out as a mono-print using fabric paints on Evolon. I think, when I was doing it, I was talking about making cloth specifically for stitch. As you can see, there are three main areas of colour, but they sit nicely together. I then thought it would be interesting to add a motif of some kind. That brought out the Markal sticks, and has produced the finished piece you see here. I will add stitch, though, I'd like to pick up on the texture of the fabric paint on the Evolon, it has a cracked appearance. We'll see...it'll doubtless tell me what it wants to be when I start to stitch. I can see some hand stitch on it, as well as machine...or perhaps instead of. Mmm. The latter sounds tempting. Hmmm.

Now, of course, I have to decide what to do with it, and all the other pieces I've produced at shows this year. It's tempting to make some sort of a combination piece, held together with stitch, big stitches... but I'll have to review what I've got first, before I make a final decision. It seems to be a good thing to be doing in the run up to the holidays. I don't want to start anything major or complicated, so these small things are great to play with. If I create anything worthwhile, I'll let you see.

Playing...

with Markal sticks, I discovered that it's interesting to work with lino blocks rather than commercial rubbing plates, so will be cutting some more in the next wee while... Makes me wonder what else I can use them for... This piece was made on a postcard sized piece of Evolon, using the same block repeatedly in different positions, and in different colours. Modern tartan, perhaps? And then I drew in some detail in the foreground. I intend to stitch this, but in a very minimal way, just to add more texture and visual interest.

I'm in a domestic frame of mind at present, cooking and cleaning in the vague hope that next week, I'll be able to get some art work done. Somehow, having things spick and span in the house helps to put me in a working mood. Or perhaps it's just that it means I can't procrastinate!

What A Difference...

a day makes... and a few photographs. My lovely friend Haydn took some shots of me in depression mode today, so that I could experiment with a variety of images in addition to the distinctly cheerful photos I have of myself. Let's face it, when you're depressed, you tend not to be photogenic. Although I do have some shots of myself recovering from the first bout of illness I had, which will be interesting to use. I'm fascinated by the possibilities of this approach. The observant among you will have nodding to yourselves in recognition of the influence that Eric Smee has had on what I'm doing, even although I haven't actually met or talked to him yet (though I do intend to remedy that once the weather improves...). If you have no idea what I'm talking about, I wrote about the effect his work had on me here and showed a picture of the image I was discussing here. More of his work can be found here.

This is the beginning of a journey, a journey through and within depression. It will be interesting to see what shows up during the journey, which I suspect will be a long one. But it is wonderful to have several of the themes that have been haunting me for the last few years come together in this way. And maybe that's why I've been marking time this year. In fact, I'm pretty sure that's why I've been marking time this year... but no more. Well, not until the next time I need to assimilate ideas and concepts, anyway....which could be tomorrow. Worth it, if the secret photographer within me comes out to play!

On Reflection...

perhaps this should have been the image of the day. This is something I'm going to work on in the next few weeks...thanks, Ferret, for spurring me to do something that I wanted to do...

Frozen

Literally and metaphorically. Literally, as you can see from the image, the snow still holds us in its sway, though it's nothing like as bad here as it is in Scotland. We're supposed to be going up there for Christmas, but if things continue as they are, it may not happen. That will please the cats, but probably no-one else. Mind you, we are supplying the turkey, a Norfolk Black, so at least we won't starve... Ice is such a fascinating thing to photograph, such luminescence; remember to click on the image to see it at a larger size, I think it's worth it.

Metaphorically... well, a combination of illness, bad news and exhaustion has kept me paralysed. My apologies to anyone who hoped to see me at the Knitting and Stitching Show in Harrogate; I was taken ill there, and was not able to teach and demonstrate as planned. Some sort of strange virus, apparently. I finally felt truly hungry yesterday, for the first time in about a fortnight. Though every cloud has a silver lining; I did lose seven pounds as a result... but it's a pretty drastic way to lose weight. And the demon depression has been biting, too, resulting in Marion at a standstill.

Artistically, I feel as if I've made nothing at all of note this year. Actually, I have made nothing of note this year. I've written another book, certainly, but need to redo a lot of the images, as I'm not happy with them. There is, however, a light at the end of this particular tunnel. I've been asked to manage a wonderful project, of which more next year (I promise!). I've started to consider what I want to make next year, and to plan for it, which is positive. And finally, there's no more day job. So now, I need to dig in, hibernate for a couple of weeks and decide what to focus on. My Etsy shop needs attention, my website project needs a kick start and I have another book project lined up. So I won't be lacking in a few interesting things to do... and I'll be stocking more art supplies, things like Brusho and dyes, which can be difficult to find in this neck of the woods. I thought I'd start to make kits, too, but that's another post altogether, and definitely one for a later date.

The Road To Hell ...

...is paved with good intentions. My last post said 'more of that tomorrow', but two weeks have gone by and you're still waiting. Actually, if you've got any sense, you'll have stopped waiting and gone to do something more interesting... But here it is, the frame, and its contents, too. The frame was made for my friend Kim Scrivener, to house her first ever piece of textile art. Since January, my evening class on a Tuesday night has been working with fabric. This particular piece was made over several sessions. We had been discussing fabric in general, and looking at different types of fabrics and their potential uses in fabric art. This particular piece was a response to an exercise which asked the participants to select a piece of fabric that they would never dream of working with. Kim selected the strong pink, and came up with this lovely little piece. The small green piece in the corner was made using Markal sticks to rub over a raised surface, and came from my late friend Lynn Bunis's stash. I'm sure she'd be delighted to see it put to such good use.

When we looked for a suitable moulding for the frame, though, we couldn't find anything that Kim really liked with the piece, and ditto with the mount board. So I customised a plain frame using acrylic paints and Brusho powder, and coloured the mount board a pale pink, using a Brusho spray. And with Kim's permission, the photograph is shown here, and the frame project forms one of the projects in the upcoming Brusho Book. Some of Kim's work is also included in the book; she makes beautiful greetings cards. So, mystery solved...this is what the frame looks like!

I've been struggling for time, recently, and have finally decided to give up the Day Job. I enjoy it, but trying to keep all those balls in the air has been very tiring, and I would rather give my whole time and attention to one thing. At the end of the day, the art won over the HR work... although I hope to find some creativity coaching clients in the next wee while. Check out this link for a description of what being coached by me feels like, or email me for a chat.