We all face bravery in different ways.
It isn’t always a visible show of courage
oftentimes nobody else knows quite how much it took
We all develop our ways of stepping forward, facing up.
Bright, bold, audacious.
Then what?
Then you have no choice, you gotta jump:
This week, in my little way, I faced a bravery. And I dived in to a new phase. And it’s gonna be BIG
Week 10 began on a full moon. It was a big full week.
Tidal changes of hope and spirit, plans formed and crashed with barely time to get a good grip on them.
It’s the first week I’ve really found difficult to ‘make’ – in terms of the page, but also I guess in terms of making sense of myself as well. Massive overwhelms kept colliding – giddy highs and their plummeting opposites. It was minimal in comparison with the other weeks in terms of word-spew. Just summed it up in a big fat EVERYTHING.
Again with all the eyes peering out at me. Even they are looking a bit more deranged than usual this week.
I can’t tell you how many layers of mismatched colours and unhappy paint coated these pages. It was a nothing’s looking right covered with another no that’s still not it under a coat of wtf really? And then some.
Then the Wednesday came to a close, and that was that, turn over and start again Thursday. Glad to report, this week’s looking more harmonious!
It’s that time of year, time of life, time of day.. it’s also the name of an exhibition I have some work in.
The title is open to interpretation but it got me thinking about the saying What the caterpillar calls the end, the rest of the world calls a butterfly.
So with my fav kind of glorious inky messy, the divinely joyous, the snipping up of little bits of paper, the gluing bits accidentally to my sleeves, hair, floor… and the itsy small doodles on the wings… the magical making process, another project began to unfurl.
I remembered how I hadn’t done this for so long – let the inner kid out to play without any rules or boundaries – well, one – just do butterflies. We jumped in with both feet!
I began with 3 different butterfly images, digitally reduced to grey-scale, then high contrast mono before printing in a few different sizes. Some flipped over to fly in the opposite direction.
Enough of the tidy digital world, enough of the pristine pixel arrangement. Time for IK to make a mess with layers of inky goodness before cutting out the little beasties for collaging, and extra doodles.
So far there are 2 framed collages, and a series of cards. I’m in the process of setting them up over on DeviantArt so prints are available too ……….. and I’ve got another little side project where they’ll be flitting through too -> watch this space!
A project I began working on as college brief in September 2013 finally came to fruition recently. The task was to design a site specific artwork for the National Spinal Injury Centre.
I described earlier my design of a ‘Totem’ honouring and celebrating the spirit of the Spinal unit, the great work that is done there and the kinship that develops between patients, the therapists and staff, the patients’ friends and families – the community.
The perfect location turned out to be an eight-sided brick pillar in the centre of reception: the spine of the unit, and conveniently totem-esque in shape; so defining the design, and informing the scale.
I decided early on that the artwork would consist of a series of portraits of people who have shown a level of determination and spirit that can inspire others. The stories I read in the course of researching who to include were often beyond awe-inspiring. Testament to the strength of character that comes to the fore in times of crisis, and a need to share that sense of possibility with others.
A really strong sense of people are amazing. I’ve also had some really wonderful feedback from the folks whose portraits I used. Absolutely heartwarming, I’ve so loved this project.
I’d like to thank everyone involved in the project:
Aaron Baker, David Weir, Mike Nemesvary, Jared Duntan,
Mark Pollock, Melanie Reid, Catriona Williams, Pete Donnelly,
Erica Davis, Bonnie Lewkowicz, Trish Downing, Darius Glover,
Andy Walker, Suzanne Cowan, Barry West & Frank Gardner.
All that about loving weeks beginning on a thursday…. what was I on about?! I’m not embracing this self-imposed confusion right now! (I’d meant to type I’m NOW embracing, but clearly I’m not, that’s a subconscious truth leakage!)
SO quick before this week’s gone as welll … Week #6 of 2015 looked like this:
The week that my daemon manifested himself in glorious turquoise velvetty form.
See, he did look a bit more cat than dragon in the planning stages… His early plannings are nestled up with left over fabric (sorry, fur – feathers – scales??) snippets
Close you eyes, fall in love, stay there. (Rumi)
And the best advice I heard all week.
‘Odoodem’
The idea for the final design was really concreted by a trip to the Tate Britain where I saw Leon Underwood’s Totem to the Artist. The word Totem is derived from the Algonquian word Odoodem, meaning kinship group.
The idea behind this art installation is to celebrate the mutual support and sense of kinship that develops in the National Spinal Injury Centre, between the hospital staff, therapists, patients and their families through each person’s stay in the unit.
I also want to weave together themes that are integral to the work carried out here at the centre: perseverance and determination to overcome and adjust to changed lifestyle and self-identity.
In the main foyer/waiting area there’s this brickwork column, the central support, the ‘spine’ of the building, this is where the 16 portraits will hang. Each of the collaged portraits is of someone with an inspiring story of extraordinary accomplishment living with a spinal injury. The way the portraits are displayed is intended to echo the appearance of a totem pole, which in turn echoes the appearance of a spine, a central support. And a seamlessly circular metaphor. (I like that kind best).
The images are made from hand-cut layers of silk screen prints which in turn were over-painted with repeating abstract patterns to emulate the carved designs of a traditional totem pole, and also symbolise the patience and determination required for the repetition involved physio and occupational therapies.
more photos to follow…
Following on from the More Than The Sum posts. Y’know what? this week I finally completed the project! 18 months since the initial brief, the planning, the researching, the thinking and playing began. 16 collaged portraits which will be hanging in their final home tomorrow.
Almost all art has at least one metaphor. Sometimes it’s a visual message, daft or clever, subtle or blatant. And often times it’s something that shows itself in the creative process.
This piece was always going to be heavy on the metaphor. It’s to be displayed in the reception area of the National Spinal Injury Centre at Stoke Mandeville hospital, so it will be seen by hospital staff, the patients, their families, friends and dear ones. It’ll become part of the back drop to a range of emotion – shock, fear, interminable waiting, hope, intensity, perseverance, dedication, and so much more. Purpose-wise, top level: it’s bright, colourful, and a visual distraction. Close up their road-map qualities show up and the faces almost disappear. They might be a place to get lost in for a while.
But the meaning goes deeper than that.
As you know, the collages are made from intricate screen print/drawings which was the first of the metaphors – the repeating patterns, the tiny detail – the repeated exercises of physio and occupation therapies, the gradual steps toward more independence. The incredible patience and strength of character this demands from all involved. Layer on layer of print and drawing – day after week after month of incremental progress in recovery.
The metaphor that shows up in the process: How life is so contradictory sometimes.
Wouldn’t you think you’d see something better close up. You would, though, wouldn’t you?
….apart from when looking too closely at something makes it vanish. From a distance: there it is. No doubt. Get closer and it fades out of sight. WTF? Really? Yes. Something like not being able to see the wood for the trees… perhaps.
These are some of the metaphors. Tomorrow I’ll show you the completed work, and describe the rest of the message.
So week (page) 4 of the year (book) ends, and so does a project I’ve been working on for (what feels like) ever!
Week 4 is a wholehearted week, in all senses.
My computer is in for repairs this week, so my usual work is temporarily suspended. Last night I finally finished up this thing I’ve been working on for ages. It’s left a curious sense of spaciousness in my world. I can stretch out my hands and not touch any overrun deadlines, in any direction.
I know this grates with some folks, but I relentlessly endeavour to find the silver lining to any situation. It’s a challenge I can’t resist. It appeals to my stubbornly optimistic nature. So I’ve embraced the computer free week. Either my data survives or it doesn’t. My files are in a Schrodinger’s cat state and will be for a few more days.
While there’s nothing I can do to change this state so I’m enjoying being away from a cold office, I’m getting on with other stuff. To be honest, if this hadn’t happened, the other thing would likely not be finished yet. (I’ll show you that thing in a future post)
This afternoon I sat in a coffee shop making plans for what I’ve got lined up next to do in a relaxed, calm brain-zone. Such a refreshing change.
My engine is idling and I’m planning the next leg of my route. It’s all good.
And I’ll be back on the road again soon, come whatever.
The things we learn at art school, that aren’t really art…
I’ve learnt how to let go.
I started out with very fixed thinking mentality. I made myself decide what the finished result would look like as a starting point. Then trying to find a path to get from point A (nothing) to point Z (end product). It was hugely frustrating. Not just for me – I could see it in the face of my tutors too. But I didn’t understand why.
I spent so many years drifty doodling about aimlessly, I had no idea I could choose my direction and just go off n see where I got to.
Stubbornly resistant to the organic process – sketching, researching, dabbling, documenting and recording, experimenting, trial and error, figuring out – I wanted to race to the finish line and then jump into the next thing. Inner kid was at the wheel, and she travels at one speed only – giddyingly fast! Although she brings the very necessary vitality and exuberance, she doesn’t do planning or calm. And in order to get the best results I (we) could, these elements cannot be mutually exclusive.
I look back at early projects and think: what a bizarre way of going about things! (but isn’t that a life thing too?)
I believe we create best within a set of parameters. Told you can only have 3 colours for your painting, 3 notes for your tune, 3 minutes for your idea … set a restriction, and it forces the imagination swell to fill the limits. When you don’t have access to everything in the toy box, you can really set about making the best of what you’ve got.
While I already knew this, my first ‘free choice’ projects at college freaked the bejeebus out of me. The resulting confusion made me panic my own parameters into place. So much so, in the freedom of limitless choicefulness I’d literally hear myself think: Right, so it can be anything??? Ok………<eek> …….. Let’s make it 1.5 metres high, made of fabric, and green. I don’t know what it’s going to be, or why, or anything else. But at least I’ve got some clue what it’s going to look like. And then steadfastly refuse to budge from this plan.
And then reverse engineer my ideas from there.
Top tip, folks: Don’t do it this way!
In the absence of any solid grounding I had to pin meanings on to the finished article, blindly, like the tail on a donkey. It didn’t hold up, there was no integrity: just a decorative thing that isn’t an expression of anything.
The whole process was a lot harder than it needed to be, and it didn’t produce good results. I backed myself into a corner and I wasn’t going to let myself out of it for fear of … fear of… fear of the great abyss of everything that’s outside my self imposed boundary, which is too overwhelming to consider.
So sometimes you gotta follow a route to its ultimate destination before accepting the truth of it, turning round, and going someplace else. Destination disappointment (could’ve done better). And eventually, several disappointments later, I did.
I’ll show you where some of these routes led next…
It might look like I’ve been deliberately obtuse about the eye-fish thing…
What can I say, they appear in groups of three, and so far 2 of the 3 weeks of this new year’s book have hosted a set.
Yeh, really, they aren’t eyes, they aren’t fish. Eyes and fish are quite different things, and tbh, this one looks like it’s sprouted backward facing legs with which to march, tail first into the unknown.
But that’s just my drawing style – everything piled up on each other style. It’s really a trick of perspective. The eye-fish is, in actuality, some way off in the distance, and hugely bigger than the foreground scribbley yogini attempting to master Warrior 1 pose.
But if you know me at all, you’ll know, it’s not in my nature to be cryptic. So this is as baffling to me as it is to you.
Here are the facts as I understand them to be:
So there we are, more info and less sense. It’s all a big brain-dump. Making sense is an improbable ask.
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