Big Bad Wolf...

Haven't done any painting in a while, but saw an interesting technique for watercolour described by Linda Kemp in a book called

Watercolor Painting Outside the Lines a positive approach to negative painting
and thought I'd have a go yesterday. Was supposed to be off with the canoe club in Wales, but I pulled out because of snow so it was fun to do this instead... It's only 8"x6"approx so not big. I love the serendipity of watercolours. Only used two colours: chinese orange and indigo for the trees. Then thought the painting needed a focal point so had to put Little Red Riding Hood in with a dash of cadmium red. Where is the Big Bad Wolf?

Just a quickie update before I head off for work...

Thanks for the encouragement - I wasn't fishing for compliments. Was I? Glargh!

I've frogged the Trellis Fence Scarf - I couldn't bear the mistakes shouting at me. I've started Swallowtail instead. And the pattern suits the mini Handmaiden yarn so much better, I'm really getting into a rhythm - which is how lace knitting should be, I guess. I can see where I'm at with the budding lace repeat so it's easier to tink if necessary. But I've put in a lifeline this time, just in case.
I WILL revisit the trellis scarf pattern one day, but with a finer lace weight yarn.

Meanwhile I've finished another BSJ - this time in pinks and purples, in Lang 'Silkdream' which is wonderfully soft - but so much more expensive now. Part of its attraction was its very reasonable price - its now not much more cheaper than other 'designer' yarns. This BSJ is paying for the course of acupuncture a local vet gave Tilly.
I've also finished spinning the Gotland - only got 4 small balls weighing 70g, which won't be enough for CandyPi, so I'm going to stripe it with Maylin's purple dyed angora goat fleece - and I've spun up my first chunky 25g of that.This picture of a golden hare was to compensate for not having any pics of knitting originally - I was playing with collage - it's so much fun to mess about with glue and bits of paper and gold leaf! The quote is from a Ted Hughes poem. The picture of the golden hare in the moonlight came first, but the quote seemed apt.

"The Big-eyed, up eared hare I hold is solid flame of living gold..."

The Beach
I signed up for this project back in January, with only the vaguest notion of what it was all about. In fact it was a direct offshoot of BARB HUNT's work - she had an installation on display at the Phoenix in Exeter during March and April, called "Vigil". Barb hails from Newfoundland, Canada: a rural environment with a rich tradition of 'domestic textiles'. This connection with textiles was completely accidental - I love that kind of synchronicity!

Barb is currently interested in expressing the relationship between birth, gender, recuperation, death and mourning. Here's a snippet from BBC Devon:

"Barb is worried about the way many rituals are cut short to return to work or other commitments that leaves individuals and communities carrying unreleased grief.
Her home in Newfoundland, an island area of Canada, is near a graveyard and she admits to being fascinated by how the floral tributes left at the graves makes these resting places the most colourful areas in an otherwise rugged landscape.
The strong coastal winds often blow the remains of these flowers out of the graveyard and spread them across the nearby countryside. Whenever Barb sees these she has made a habit of collecting the lost fabric flowers and washing them, sorting them into colours and styles. She's now decided to use her ever growing collection of fabric mourning flowers to create a new body of work.
Large swatches of veil-like fabric have been decorated with these flowers and other natural materials such as beach rocks. According to the artist she hopes it creates "space for moments of reorientation where living and dead intertwine, reflecting on loss, grief, healing and continuance."

So this was our inspiration and starting place. Our two intrepid leaders, Nicci and Chrissy, artists from the Phoenix, led us through the installation: We started in the shaded, veiled womb like room - I thought the white blobs on the material were soft - then realised they were hard beach pebbles when I got closer. The hangings create interesting shadows on the floors and walls. From there we stepped into the light and the 'tree of life'

- women in Exeter, natives from all over the world, had finger knitted (looked like single crochet chains) threads which had been formed into the tree you can see. Barb had knitted squares of pinks shading through to darkest purples to enclose the women, to wrap them in a blanket and protect them. (You can see that sewing the ends in is Barb's favourite task too!).

The last room had the funeral flowers dangling from the ceiling. then we: Liz, Sue, Jane, Suzanne and Rosie and Georgie (the latter on a mother and daughter bonding expedition) and myself, all strolled down to the railway station and took a train to the beach.

This was an exiting part of the process: I love travelling and the anticipation.The process begins with us women getting to know each other - some had come together, others had not. (By the end of the day, I had heard several women's life stories: I was amazed and fascinated by how many of us are survivors! - everyone has a story to tell).

Having arrived at Dawlish Warren, we walked through the dunes to a deserted section between the 'groynes'. It was a beautiful cloudless day. The idea was to make our own installation on the beach - first the collection, then the creating.

Beachcombing, gathering on the beach: takes us back to our hunter/gatherer roots. I found shells, round pebbles, black rocks, and flints, and pebbles with stripes in.

Sue had also found some rocks with stripes, so I put mine with hers and got engrossed in lining up the stripes. I liked getting lost in the detail. It also reminded me of the threads dangling down from Barb Hunt's veil like creations.

Having brought back our collections, we then discussed what we wanted to create, what we wanted to concentrate on bringing together. Stripes got it: The connection to Barb's work in the dangling threads, the link with networking, knitting together of links and pulling together. Nicci had a rock with a hole in it - and suggested the structure should mirror this: a womb like hole, a representation of the feminine with threads wrapping around it. But someone (either Suzanne or Jane) suggested we build our creation around the remains of a fire on the beach - there was a group of blackened stones and twigs next to us. It reminded her of the hearth, the heart of the matter; the burnt remains also resonated with death, ashes to ashes. (How appropriate for a project stemming from the phoenix!),

The remains of the fire would be the heart of our piece and we would collect any pebbles with stripes in, no limitation of colours, we would just start collecting and create our work organically. Let it grow!

I was amazed at how amicable the process of decision making and subsequent creating was. The project was as organic and freeflowing as the result. There were conversations about death and grieving and agreement that we had indeed lost our ability to mourn in this country Hallowe'en and all saints day have been buried in commercialism. Christianity sanitised pagan rituals.

This all struck home with me: I put work commitments first when my Dad became ill at the end of his life, and he died the same day I'd arranged to go to him. When we die it is family and friends who will remember us - and not because of the work we do, or the fact that we have a big house or car.

I love the way the lines connect and the subtle colours of the pebbles change. Nicci thought it 'weaved' and

was very gentle with no borders...

What did it remind me of? An amoeba? Nebulae throwing off stars, suns, planets, eggs. We pooled ideas - some thought a web - others, lines of thought. I loved getting involved with the detail, following a line and going where it took me. I think this is the right brain getting into gear, nonverbal: I don't think there was any hint of us getting too serious and pompous and (diappearing up our own bottoms) losing sight of the fun. Honest.

A family stopped and stared. "What is it?" asked the little boy. HA! GOOD question. It was all in the detail and also in the process. Andy Goldsworthy eat your heart out!

Barb Hunt is best known as the artist who knitted the pink ANTIPERSONNEL landmines. Reminds me of the Red sweaters project.

The egg like shape on its own was pebbles that had been rescued from the sea by Georgie (I think)

I wonder what's left of it? Nothing I expect.

LIFE DRAWING CLASSES started yesterday - I was late, as usual. The entire Exeter City Centre is being rebuilt, or so it seems, and all the carparks I usually use were closed. I tried following signs to another (all the time, getting further and further away from the Phoenix, my destination) and then the signs disappeared. Eventually I managed to park in Dix's field and then didn't have time to get change for the ticket - paid for an hour and trusted to the gods that I wouldn't get clamped.

The class had started half an hour before... loads of people.

The excercises that our teacher, Nicci Wonnacott, gave us were fascinating - amongst other things, we were given just a minute to make a quick charcoal sketch, we were given rapidly changing poses which we would overlap and we were told to look for an minute then draw what we remembered with our eyes closed. We were told to draw with the opposite hand to the one we normally used - that was wierd.

Here's an example of the 6x2 minute sketches I did:

I've got four more sessions - we'll see how I develop.

OH, and I didn't get clamped or get a ticket. Phew.

picture of geese, painted by me back in January.

General update...

Because I'm participating in Secret Pal numero 8, I have STRICT instructions from my hostess extraordinaire to keep up with ye old blogging. I'm supposed to be writing a 3000 word essay, and work has been hellish busy. Any ol' excuse to not do it . Washing up has never seemed so desirable.
I've done no painting of late - BUT I have been buying wool - having a secret pal to buy for gives me a GREAT excuse to buy stuff for myself - well, when one is hanging around in ones local yarn store, how can one resist? So now I'm knitting hats as well as trying to finish Seth's jumper - (I'm on the first sleeve of THAT).
I've also bought a bread machine. My waistline is expanding.

Was lovely to hear from knitnurse alias hazelnutcluster alias lots of things.

Back to the grindstone.

The Artist's Way This patchwork piece was inspired by the work of Janet Bolton: 'Patchwork Folkart' -

A Nice Cup of Tea...

This week, I have begun a journey to rediscover my artistic self, via The Artist's Way, a book by Julia Cameron.

I started yesterday with 'morning pages'; I slept 12hours last night! (and didn't get called out). I'm going to nurture myself for the next 12 weeks (and lose some weight with my new healthy diet!). My contract:

I, Tutleymutley, understand that I am undertaking an intensive, guided encounter with my own creativity. I commit myself to the twelve-week duration of the course. I, Tutleymutley, commit to weekly reading, daily morning pages, a weekly artist date, and the fulfillment of each week's tasks.

I, Tutleymutley, further understand that this course will raise issues and emotions for me to deal with. I, Tutleymutley, commit myself to excellent self care - adequate sleep, diet, excercise, and pampering - for the duration of the course.

Tutleymutley

10th January 2006

OH, oh, oh, this is going to be so hard. Getting enough sleep and eating right and excercise is hard enough. I'm so lazy! Time to get a grip.