1000 crochet doilies & connections stitched

This week I am finally sending off the 30 doilies I have crocheted for Lisa Solomon's 1000 Doilies project. I have loved working on these for so many reasons, the main being the connection to all the other people who were making them as well. 

How wonderful for someone to put the word out, and ask for people to follow a pattern and crochet some pieces to add to an installation of her work. 

You can read a little about Lisa's art piece here. I love the thread colours and the 10 doilies x 100 colours = 1000.

I first "met" Lisa through Instragram, I think.. I can barely remember anymore. Does it actually matter? Nope, not really. I was immediately drawn to her use of colour in a methodical and thoughtful way (I mean, look at those colours up there - this project is about tonal gradation and hues), and to her dangly tangly threads that I saw in her work. The finished yet unfinished aspect of it really captured what I myself felt I was working on - or maybe a bit of how I work. I urge you to go and have a look through her website and find some lovely.

Lisa is also super-cool. And I love that. Cool in a real way. She is an art teacher and a practicing artist, and a mama. I love her instagram feed with the view points of shape and colour and line. I love her book. I also love the way Lisa seems to be collaborative - she has connections with other artists, and gathers people in. She shares skills and advice. 

Mostly I love that Lisa trusted me enough to be part of this amazing project with her. With everyone else who is making. All these lives that we've stitched into our doilies will be gathered together into Lisa's hands and displayed. And most people who look at the art work (in real - I'll only see it in pictures) will probably see the beauty that is there. The colours and lines and shapes. They won't know the stories of the people who made these pieces. The way that I carried a little fabric pouch with my thread and hook and pattern, the way I never fully remembered the pattern, so had to carry it with me. The way I sat at cafes with threads in front of me, and other customers asked about the teeny little work I was making - and were surprised that I was making it to send to an artwork on the other side of the world. The way my family knew it was an important thing I was working on, for an important project, and helped me along the way - let me count that one row of stitches where I couldn't talk or I'd have to start again. 

And you know what. I love the fact that two of my very special instagram friends also made doilies. Kate (blog) / foxslane (IG) and Cyndi (blog) / elf_girl (IG). We encouraged each other and enjoyed sharing where we were up to. The way I thought maybe Kate and I could sit and crochet together one day, and somehow here we are are working on one big thing together. 

You can see the doilies here on the instagram hashtag #1000doilies. I'm following along to see the final work with all our stitches and those colourful doilies talking together in one room. Thanks Lisa for letting me crochet with my far-away friends. xxxx

*bottom image of threads stacked is from Lisa Solomon's blog.

hot pink + inky blue // the greater the artist

I made this crochet bowl / vessel last week. It just started and happened, I added pieces and cut scraps to size and crochet-worked them in as I went. I love this. I'm going to say it again. I LOVE THIS! 

I am so loving the inky blue at the moment. It's scraps from my screen printed fabrics, that were sewn into purses and cushions - the edges of stitched and snipped corners, the left over snipplets / scraplets. I am always collecting scraplets from my sewing floor. I love the raggedy frayed edges and the half unraveled stitching.

I make a lot of little bits of things in my making time. Some bits sit unfinished, half finished, not complete. Ideas formed and run off before they fully evolved. I know that's an okay thing. Totally ok. It helps other ideas to progress. Sometimes ideas don't form and work through to the end for a while. But when they do. When it happens as my mind's eye imagined. 

Isn't that just like the biggest thing ever. It's ego-boosting. And I mean ego in a good way. I am not afraid of my ego, when it's being good. I think and artist ego has a sharp edge to slip either side to full-on ego "I'm better than you", or real-ego "I'm the best me". I aim for that one. The other-ego of me, the best of me. It's sometimes a hard line to walk. Between loving what you do, and showing off and then gloating. 

And then. The other option is the doubt. I love this quote about an artist having doubt. It's taken me a long long LONG time to slowly, quietly, sometimes, call myself an artist. I wonder if I am an artist, or a maker, or just a wanna-be. I wonder what's the difference. Anyway. This quote makes me feel like I must be an artist, Robert Hughes is a man who knows his artists. 

Is anyone interested in a tutorial for this crochet scrap vessel? I made it with builder's twine and fabric scraps and other little pieces. Maybe next week I could fathom one up, if anyone's interested... Come back tomorrow, when I hope to have a yarny stick/twig/branch tutorial to share with you.

*isn't the background here just simply beautiful? It's at my sister Leah's house - the walls are rendered concrete, which is possibly maybe what we'll end up doing on our home, or something similar. I love the worn patina of the faded ochre and the wooden bench.

making mistakes

Do you make mistakes? 

I think mistake-making is terrribly wonderfully totally super important. 

I tell my kids, and other kids, and people that whenever I can. 

When I'm running workshops with people who declare they couldn't do something (like weaving or stitching and printing) because they might not do it perfectly - well I tell those people that they have to make mistakes to learn something. Sometimes when you make a mistake it really is a mistake, but you learn from it don't you (or you keep on making the same mistake until you do learn..... eventually).

Mostly I think when we make mistakes, in life and in art, we make something else as well. I found this quote on pinterest, and oh boy it so resonates with what I feel and think about mistake making. When you make mistakes you make something new. Oh golly - isn't that a perfect way of thinking about it. 

Did you know that cheese was a mistake. A long (long long loooooooonnnnnnnnnngggg) time ago there was a woman (let's say a woman, but it could have been a man) walking through the desert with some fresh camel or goat milk in a pouch. The pouch was made of animal, and had a lining of animal guts. Oh you know that stuff - yeah rennet. With the warmth of the day, and the movement of the walking woman, the milk jiggled all about in that animal pouch and turned from runny milk to firmer cheese. It probably was a bit disappointing to go and have a sip of milk, and find it a teeny bit soured and lumpy. Anyway, so the story goes, mistake making made a good thing!

{along these lines, I always wonder how the first person discovered that you could separate egg whites from yolks and make different things with each. Oh - imagine no meringue!}. 

Anyway. This should really remind you, and push you to make mistakes. Mistake making is good. Except in exams that are important - maybe don't make mistakes then. But in art, please do make mistakes and then learn to make new creations.

on making art

 

 

Last Thursday I was asked by two separate people how my art making was going. 

Exactly that "how's your art making going?".

To both I responded what particular art making are you wanting to know about?

While I know they were both being polite and wanted to say "how's things" in a more personal manner, and neither of them know me really well so perhaps forgot what my art making particularly was (umm - what is it again??!!); I thought it strange. And it's sent me off on tangents of art making thinking. 

What is art making?

What does it mean to me? What does it mean to you?

Is every day living art?

Do my children make art?

Can I make art with my children hovering around me...!?

Ah-ha there's what I'm probably most curious about solving at the moment. That last one. 

But firstly. Art making? Really we all know it's a totally personal and subjective thing. That art thing. Making art. Experiencing art. Exploring art. 

What is art?! 

I think that making a cup of tea is art (and in some countries is a complete art - think of a Japanese tea ceremony). Cooking dinner is art, or setting the lunch table for friends. Writing a letter to a loved one. Digging in your garden, planning and then planting new beginnings of art and beauty. Tidying up your home - straighten the shelves, arranging flowers in a jar. Brushing up your hair into a knot on top of your head. Getting dressed in the morning. Reading stories with your children. Having a conversation.

All of these things can be art. Can be expressed in an artful manner. Can be considered or thrown together, with some semblance of creativity and "art". I think there's an art to walking through our days and experiencing only the beauty and joy. 

It's true I haven't done any screen printing all year, or any drawing or painting for months, or any crochet for the past week. Instead I have spent time my days enjoying the sunshine glowing through the flower water (and documenting). I have planted lettuces with my children. I have read stories every night. I have folded snippets of fabric. I have washed up, and then stack the clean dishes away in the cupboard. I have put the clothes away in the drawer, in neat and beautiful piles. I have read about Pluto and the Moon, and talked about verbs and adjectives with my children at our home-school table.

Each day I am living an artful life.
How about you?
How's your art making going?

xxx

lines to make me smile

 

There was quite a fun, and super excellent, little thing yesterday at the Matisse Exhibition, at the GOMA. Called The Drawing Room (cute name, yes??), it was set up as a very tidy and lovely artist's studio space (sort of). There was a life model (clothed, not naked), and lots of fantastic still-life set ups, with flowers, fruit, etc. Drawing paper and pencils and space to sit and draw. Such a wonderful inspiration room. 

I wasn't feeling it for the life model drawing, but sat and did some still-life sketches of bottles and jars and such. These above are drawn on an ipad they had, where it then draws back to you each line as you drew it. If you go here, I think you can have a go yourself. The top drawing, vase with flowers, is by Ari, the bottom teapot by me. And look at this excellent one that Ari drew of the model in chair. His drawing skills are improving so much, and he's enjoying looking and just going for it. It makes me so happy to see him just draw and not get upset that it doesn't work out exactly as he wanted/planned/expected (I do that much too much myself....). I think he was really inspired by the Matisse exhibition.

I am hoping to put aside more time for myself to do drawing, painting, sketching, over the next few weeks. It's something I think I'll have to put into my diary to make sure it happens... Tell me, what do you wish you made more time for? Will you do it - join me in spending time this year doing more of what you love, for yourself. I do wish I had space to set up tablescapes like this, that could stay until I was finished..... next year for sure.

printing blue ..... and still not sure of a name

Some screen printing today, in the printing shed. Skirts.  Like this one here. {thanks Kim, I actually really quite like this photo; not often that happens!!}

The backs of the skirts are beautiful soft black hemp + organic cotton. The fronts are a floaty white hemp + organic cotton - which I hand screen print. Each one is totally different, due to the way I print them. I couldn't even replicate any particular bits if I wanted. It's like a magic that evolves from the mix of ink on screen and pull of squeedgie.

Red / black or blue / black. Each had white relief marks on it; frayed, raw, edges, strands, string, twirls, swirls. And little bits of stories in the ink.

I love lifting the screen and looking at each bit. Picking out sections that I like best. Enjoying the mix and swirl and drifts of colour. Seeing the stark white underneath. The edge of the screen. The soft corners, where the ink didn't touch, or just softy whispered past.

Sylve helped me today. It was good to have someone else in the printing shed with me. Someone working out thoughts with. Talking with my sister is like thinking aloud, a ramble of conversation and ideas and advice and being able to say little bits that might not make sense until someone else turns a new light on them.

Mishi helped us too. Spooning the ink onto the screen. And washing the spoons afterwards. And getting so wonderfully grubby with blue.black water (and chocolate brownie combined with babycino at the cafe after).

I'm still trying to come up with the best name for these skirts. I have been calling them The Art Skirt, but not sure that's exactly right (except that doing each one is a one-by-one piece of art). 

I'll show you the finished skirts in a week or so. When they're back from the sewer, and I'm back from my holiday. {We leave for a week's holiday in Cairns on Tuesday. YAH}. And some of you will be able to see them in person at my upcoming big big big fun fun fun market (which I'm super anxious.scared.excited.anticipating.breathless.dreaming.planning about).

arquitectos del aire

This is where we will be this weekend.

Amococo is part of Out of The Box festival that has been running all this past week at Southbank, The State Library and Art Gallery in Brisbane. 

If you live near to Brisbane, then I suggest a visit to this place this coming long weekend. If you don't live nearby, head on over and watch the video.

I love the name Arquitectos del Aire :: Architects of Air. 

The luminaria are inflatable sculptures filled with natural light. Coloured plastics filter light in, creating a womb-like environment. Influenced by nature, geometry, light, cathedrals, the design....

 "… takes Moorish architecture as its starting point and then, as Gaudí did in Barcelona a century or more ago, turns it into something highly organic and distinctly ambivalent. Not that Gaudí would have recognised it.  What Parkinson has done is treat the inflated object as an immersive art experience, in which light, sound and architectural form combine.”
Hugh Pearman, Sunday Times*

{anything that relates to Moorish, Gaudi and Barcelona must be something truly special}.

*quote from AOA site.

red riding hood and chocolate

It's so lovely spending time at home with my little one. She has such a wonderful interest in fabric and colours and patterns. Always asking me to make her something new - a party dress, a skirt for her doll, a new blanket, a crown, a bracelet. 

She brings me pieces of her play fabric and ribbons from my ribbon jar, and asks me to create costumes and clothes for her. Always in a very particular way. She knows exactly how she wants it - I think perhaps she can see it in her mind, though often she can't vocalise to me exactly how I'm meant to tie or pin or twist it. Some frustration does occur. 

Yesterday she asked me for a Little Red Riding Hood cape - after bringing me endless lengths of fabric to be turned into all sorts of capes and special hoods and dresses. As I had to go out to the fabric shop anyway, to get some supplies for new products for this weekends market (sneaks on that later), I decided we should choose some red for a little riding hood cape at the same time. 

Today we sat down {with our afternoon iced chocolate + affogato} and got some ideas down on paper. Isn't this just the best and sweetest Little Red Riding Hood. Look at her wonderful whimsical shoes, which are meant to be different colours and have ribbons tied up them like a ballerina's slippers. And four hair clips in her hair.

I did some measurements and right now the beginnings of a calico (or muslin, or better still toile, as it really should be called) mock-up are on my sewing table. 

While I bought the red fabric - a mini pinwale cord in cherry - I haven't yet got any lining fabric. I was imagining some Kokka Red Riding Hood, but they didn't have any in stock at the specialist fabric shop (different place to the big chain shop), and I can only find green online. Also, I'm not quite convinced that it's the best option. 

We (the kids + me) spent a good deal of time last night looking online for some inspiration. How wonderful to be able to have both my kids (1 girl + 1 boy) interested in looking at fabric - and not just fairies or dinosaurs! 

These are a few on our / my shortlist :: Kitty Kokeshi, Starling, Spotted Owl, Clouds, Forest Hills, Dandelion Fields.  I'm waiting until I work out exactly how much meterage I need, before I order anything. I'd love to hear if you have any other options we could look at - I'm hoping this will be a cape to last her at least 2+ years, so want it to be a beautiful fabric we will continue to enjoy.

a simple line of regular domesticness

It's a public holiday here in Oz, because yesterday was ANZAC Day.

It's quiet here. The kids have been playing all about and making mess and noise - noisy and quiet noise, but tolerable noise. Sam has been really enjoying doing some hand drawing with lots of shading. Just letting the pen move where it wants, where he mind wanders. Nice to be like that - let the freedom of creativeness flow easily. 

This morning I set up a little still life for the kids to do some drawing of their own. I like to do this, mainly for Ari; Mishi still a little too young to be doing still life, but being inspired by it is good. And we have a little talk about what still life drawing means. And perspective and that sort thing. I set up some different shapes and angles and colours. A simple line of regular domesticness.

I love what he came up with. His interpretation on the lines and shapes. And also the way he then looks around the room and finds other things to draw - the Buddhas (which he started here), the bells above the kitchen doorway. And of course, a drawing session wouldn't be complete without rockets from Ari and fairies with long hair from Mishi. 

I've spent an enjoyable amount of time downstairs getting a heap of screen printing done. For the markets this coming weekend. Will you be visiting me there? Do pop in and say hi if you're around - would be lovely to meet you.

Sam and I haven't printed together for many months, and it was really nice to do. It's a quiet rhythmic process, like a little dance of not getting ink on each other, and moving easily around each other in our very small printing space.

Now I'm headed back downstairs to sit at my sewing machine. Stitch up some custom orders. And some more cumulus clutches and handbags. 

The kids did some baking. The kitchen is clean. The washing is done. 

And it's only 3pm. 

What a marvelous day indeed. Definitely the do-something day.

events {exhibitions}

Here are a couple of interesting looking exhibitions this week around the area.

Stella Gallery is hosting a beautiful looking photographic exhibition which opens tonight (Wednesday). I've been meaning to visit this gallery space since it opened, but life hasn't sent me over to that neck of the city. I'm planning on heading over to the opening event (we'll see if family life lets me out the door!).

Exhibiting photographers include Elisabeth Harvey, who shot the beautiful photos of my sister for Peppermint mag.

Sophie Munns is this year's artist in residence at the Mt Cootha Botanical Garden. Her art theme is homage to the seed, and will focus on seed conservation and awareness for the future. Exhibition is this coming weekend at Embiggen Books as Noosaville.

Sophie has three different blogs to look at, so do check them out. 

homage to the seed

studio archive

visual artist - which is more like her personal blog

*images used with thanks from each blog.