nourish

a slow week this one... some long-awaited surgery took place on Monday and since then I've been dealing with daily bouts of nausea and dizziness thanks to the after effects of general anesthesia

the urge to work creatively was a stubborn one though and I had in my mind a textured "frosty" base for some winter-inspired calligraphy

over the course of the last few days I made a start...

it began with layers of white gesso scraped and smeared on heavy-weight cold-pressed watercolour paper

alternating between smoothing and scraping along with some scratching into and then flowing on indigo pigment followed by granulating watercolour, I slowly built up what I thought to be an interesting surface, one that looked appropriately "cold"

using window mounts I blocked off interesting areas where a word or phrase could be penned

pleased, I started on a list of possible words:

frost

frozen stillness

snowflakes

snowdrifts

sparkling snow

you get the idea... 

next was to start playing with different ways of writing the words, perhaps adding flourishes, thinking about style - jagged and rough like the ice itself or the branches that have been frosted with it?

what about curved and flowing like the wind that blew the snowflakes down?

and what colour of ink?

it was all interesting and felt creative enough but it also felt over-planned... maybe contrived, perhaps not yet, but definitely approaching that state

as I sat debating the various options other words, ones I had read the day before, floated in my mind

"dive deeply into the creative instinct... whatever form it happens to take

nourish the imagination

cultivate a practice of attention, to the mysteries and yearnings of our own hearts"

- Sue Monk Kidd

a practice of attention, to my own heart

the words rolled around and around, and I knew instantly I had not been doing that, not for a while

I liked what I'd been working on, it was interesting and challenging, but it was not what I had to do, it was what I thought I wanted to do

I love words and paint and letters and I like working with them in ways that intrigue me but I don't yearn for them, at least not regularly

what does fire me up though, what gets the wheels turning, the what-ifs flowing, is textiles

its been a good long while since I played with fabric or ribbon or thread but it didn't take long for me to find my ribbon box and start pulling out everything I could find that spoke those same winter words through their colour or texture

just looking at them lit a spark, and there it was...

a little dose of nourishment for a creative heart

take care,

Jillayne

circling...

around and around I go...

I read something a few years back about artists noticing things in a way that is different from most other people... a rather generalized statement and certainly not an absolute though I think one that rings true more often than not

I've thought that about a lot since then, especially when I am out and about with friends and family who do not make art... they are at once puzzled, bemused, sighing, and sometimes discovering they too are interested in whatever it is that has caught my attention

so too with some of the different artistic techniques I find myself playing with from time to time though my husband becomes rather fearful when discovering me working with a new medium concerned I am falling into a big, black, bottomless pit that will surely result win the backyard turning into a cotton or flax field, or waking up one day to the addition of a sheep or two for wool

tempting, but I've never gone that far

I do like to try out interesting things I see online or in books though, and not long ago I became intrigued with folding paper and then painting/staining it with either watercolour paint or ink 

I chose a rather soft paper of unknown content, rather thick but one that tore and creased easily, so I drew a grid and scored it

folding this way and that, hills and valleys, the paper immediately started to degrade and split along the fold lines

a wash of walnut ink I made with walnut crystals and a splash of gum arabic in solution along with some water followed

it was interesting to see how folds resisted the ink - I thought the "broken" paper would grab it more and the lines would be darker rather than lighter

I then did another, this time with only straight lines, mixed media paper and watercolour paint

here the folds did not degrade the paper, the paint settled on them and they came out darker 

some cold winter day I'm going to cut a pile of different paper samples and do a round of sampling folds and washes - sampling is always a fun way to spend the day and at the end I get a wonderful resource

 but at the time of doing these it was high summer so they were set aside and I thought no more about them until going through my photos today and saw this

a photo taken last May whilst in the Yukon - it's part of the riverboat "The Tutshi" that caught fire many years ago

looking down into the charred remains of the hull I was quite taken with the effect the fire had on the wood, the patterns created, the texture and the colours

As I looked at it I thought of the folded, stained papers I had done and a thought occurred... that just might be the perfect technique to emulate the burnt wood

the rest of the group wandered along but I remained rooted in place for a good long while, looking, thinking and photographing - nothing particular in mind, more an interested noticing to file away for some day

I love how if you follow these whims, the ones for making and the ones for pausing to look closely at something they can circle around and around, one leading to the other, a connection made

the two coming together, another idea born

take care,

Jillayne

it's only words

this calligraphy thing is capturing my attention still... 

I recently watched an interesting interview with the artist Yukimi Annand in which she suggested that while practicing the fundamental strokes of calligraphy: the up-curve and down-curve, ascending loop, and downward loop etc.  was essential, it was also important to practice creative use of letterforms at the same time

the thinking is if you practice the drills and gain mastery of the letters through that route alone you may well hinder your ability to do creative work with calligraphy and/or calligraphic marks later on

that makes a lot of sense to me as after decades of doing hand embroidery my stitches are always pretty well perfectly spaced and matched for size

 trying to do primitive style stitching is almost impossible for me and a long-held source of frustration

my daily practice for calligraphy already had me doing a mix of trials and drills as well as forays into more expressive work with letters but after watching the interview I am taking that dual aspect of learning much more seriously

the two images here are the latest examples of that...

the first began as a test of three pencil grades: HB, 2B and 4B

writing very small and using the same pressure for each example was an interesting way to see and experience their subtle differences

I then used one of the pencils and the same style of handwriting in a larger scale to "draw" a grassy hill and dip - the exaggeration of the upstrokes and downstrokes is such great fun and I hope over time those marks become more expressive and less about making a legible letter

the brush trials of that same week were to hold a fine brush (a size 1) perpendicular to the page and then make quick marks, curved and straight, barely letting the brush touch the page

"quick and light" ran through my head over and over

they were such fun!

keeping each somewhat tight, and lining them up the page of my sketchbook lent an air of Chinese calligraphy to the work that I was quite taken with, the motion becoming more and more comfortable with each one

muscle memory at work

as I was writing this a thought occurred to me - what if I held a word in my mind as I made each of these marks, and then recorded that word underneath? 

the result would be a unique representation of a word I held in my mind at a moment in time

an interesting thing with that is I could never duplicate it, the motion is simply too random and truthfully, I hope it stays that way as an ever-changing written language holds a strong appeal to me

a word is spoken in a certain time and place, and coupled with the characteristics of the inflection and volume used, add subtle layers of meaning, providing an individuality to the word that can hold even greater meaning than the standard definition

perhaps holding a word in my mind whilst making the marks in this way might allow for a written word to have those same influences and impacts?

there’s a lot in that idea I find incredibly intriguing

something else to ponder…

take care,

Jillayne 

and again, it's the hands that matter

one of the most worthwhile things I have learned over the past few years is that the best path to learning is to simply show up regularly and put in the time

its so simple yet surprisingly hard; in a world full of instant gratification the notion of working at something every single day seems not just daunting but downright unreasonable

and yet...

I have been spending 45 minutes every day doing pen, brush and drawing trials and whilst the desired outcome is to see an improvement in both my calligraphy and drawing skills I'm finding what has actually improved the most is my comfort with the materials

in drawing, holding the charcoal, choosing the paper, mixing the paint... all of these things are building my confidence and making me much more comfortable with the tools and materials

and from that comfort , the marks are being made with more surety and the outcomes are more interesting

I began the pen and brush trials at the end of August I think, the drawing one was added to the mix just over two weeks ago

below are the first two drawings, both done with a charcoal pencil

I found the pencil difficult to use (though that may have had more to do with the paper than the pencil) and so from Day 3 on I have only used compressed charcoal

I'm struggling to preserve any white space, the charcoal seems to get everywhere, not least because it first gets all over my fingers!

I had a stack of papers left over from other projects and have been using them for these trials - some times that works out alright but not always

(a more considered approach to choosing paper seems to be in order)

but what fun it has been to get so dirty, smudging a few clouds into existence with my fingers

charcoal is such a tactile material

the drawings are rather messy, the lines not always as crisp as I'd like them but every day I hold a piece of charcoal in my hand and bring something forth on the paper

no longer does the wish to draw or practice swooping, swirling letter forms live in my mind

the marks on the papers are tangible reminders that it's my hands that need to be at work, not my head

disengaged

there are times in the creative process where it is far more beneficial to just let go of the thinking mind and allow the hands alone to do the work

I try to remember that when coming to a feeling of being blocked, of not knowing what to do, when I spend more time thinking about what to do than actually doing anything

this wasn't so much one of those weeks more, it was a week when there wasn't much time available and I didn't want to get caught up in over-thinking things

and so, I looked to the meaning of the name I chose for my Substack newsletter:

 "Thinking With My Hands"

a way to give the thinking mind a rest and let my hands move as they will

or as a friend aptly put it:

"getting out of my own way"

the week kicked off with photographing some linen cloth I had randomly gathered here and there, rolled into a cylinder and let sit in a jar with a small amount of watered down ink, allowing the colour to seep up the height of the roll

I got a couple of good images and then decided to edit them with an end-game to print any interesting outcomes on both fine art paper using my inkjet printer and transfer film to print them onto handmade paper too fine to go through the printer 

without really thinking about what I was doing I just started zooming in on the image here and there, looking at what showed on the screen, and then taking screenshots that I could later edit 

I wasn't looking for anything in particular, not trying for a particular look, just moving the slider to see how things changed, saving anything that appealed

more screenshots and image duplicating, editing this way and that - it didn't take more than 5 or 6 minutes and I had many to sit back and choose from

it's so interesting how things can change so quickly, a nudge this way or that in almost any of the editing options and the image can change rather significantly

I enjoyed that freedom, to do without actually trying for anything, so I took the same thinking to my brush trials

still working on them daily along with pen trials using a calligraphy marker as well as a wide-nibbed fountain pen, enjoying the simplicity of moving a pen or brush across the paper, over and over again

I'm still doing simple lines and curves, approaching letter forms but not trying to rush into them, mostly just practicing a flowing "script"

pleasantly methodical is my best description of the repetitive nature of this work that fills page after page, day after day

I keep them for a day or two to reflect on but then they are consigned to the fire

 the working at it with my hands is more important than assessing the results with my brain and the best way to dodge that is to burn them so into the fire they go

no attachment, no thinking I need to keep them for reference, nor collage, nor anything at all

the work is a means to an end and if I start thinking I need to keep it for any reason whatsoever I will quickly become attached to both the process and the outcome

all I want or need to do is trust in the process and keep making the marks day after day

there will be time enough for the work to become something else

take care,

Jillayne

the nature of things

I've been making paper, again

the first time was in 1986, using recycled paper... it was an amazing thing, to lift that first piece of dried paper from the plywood board we had formed them on

I was hooked

over the years I've made paper in that way many, many times, sometimes adding plant material for a different effect, other times embossing a design using objects such as large needles, or else embedding lightweight cheesecloth within the paper

never did I make the paper from plant fibres, though I knew it could be done

this year all that has changed

I was very fortunate to be able to take a course in making handmade paper from plants with Karen Olson (among other techniques involving handmade paper), offered by Fibre Arts Take Two

learning to do this was a revelation... the possibilities are extensive and the ability to bring "place" into the work at a deeper level feels rather profound, with the materials holding a place of greater importance than even the process, at least for me

over the years the materiality of things hasn't been much of a consideration 

(though I do admit a long-held penchant for linen over cotton)

it never mattered what it was I tackled, it was the process intrigued me the most, the materials were simply what I was first told to use, though as I got more experienced, what I found to work best

I rarely considered what they were made of nor where they came from... they were simply the means which made the process possible

over the past decade that began to change, first with cloth (100% linen became my fabric of choice), then thread (hand-dyed), paper (Japanese) and so on,  in fact, now it's become more about the materiality - if the process won't work with the material I'm determined to use I change the "how", not the "with what"

thankfully my first forays into making paper with plants have been a wonderful combination of a process I enjoy and materials that please me greatly

this small paper bowl is the culmination of all I have been doing lately...  the last of the pulp from two paper-making adventures, combining corn husks, Reed Canary Grass, with cotton and abaca linters

draining the water through a bowl-shaped strainer to collect the last of the pulp. compressing and shaping it, then tipping it onto a prepared mold (an upside down jar), a little refining for an even shape and then patiently waiting for it to dry

pleased with the outcome, the wheels already turning for my next paper-making adventure...

I didn't start out interested in paper sculpture but it feels as though process is now swinging to the forefront and "shape" is occupying my thoughts - I know for sure there will still be a dance between process and materials as cotton is a somewhat weak fibre for paper whereas abaca is much stronger

and then there's kozo... there's a bundle of that fibre amongst my supplies...

the gathering

at the start of spring, an early evening walk with a friend, shortly before twilight

we drove to the little lake, mostly for a stroll but also so I could try and identify any paper-making plants growing along the shore

as we wandered the path I used the app "Seek" to identify the plants I wasn't familiar with, my list of local prospects in my pocket for making a note of location if I found any...  I did find stinging nettle and canary reed grass, only one plant of the former, an abundance of the latter

on to the big lake, a similar story unfolded - no nettles, yet even more of the reed canary grass though it was last year's grass, dried and bleached by the winter sun

I took out my collecting bag and began to gather some from here and there as we walked the trail, after a few minutes my friend began to help

we chatted as went, stopping if there was a patch that looked "clean", gathering a few, moving on

the light was falling more to dusk and the pheasants began to show themselves... the water gleamed silver and the collecting stopped as appreciation for the beautiful evening grew

back at home, I laid the grass on my potting table, securing it against the wind, hoping the sun would bleach it further

 later in the season I picked a few handfuls of new growth of reed canary grass, this time letting it dry in the dark, preserving the beautiful deep green which darkened as it dried

and finally this week I made paper with it... first cutting and soaking the grass for a day and a night, then simmering it for a few hours in a soda ash vat, more soaking and finally rinsing and blending it to a pulp

a happy morning yesterday yielded ten sheets of paper

the first two were pure grass, no other fibre added

the paper is a beautiful green with a slight yellowish cast - the texture is a nod to its origins, it looks as if fine blades of grass were scattered over the surface... it feels sturdy in the hand but I'm not sure how strong it actually is, something I definitely need to test

after those two sheets were formed  I added a blender full of abaca pulp and pulled two more 

On I went, pull two, add another blender of abaca pulp mixed with water, and with each blender full the subsequent sheets became lighter and smoother, and the last two, after four blenders full, were more beige than green

the sheet below is from the 3 blenders of abaca batch, just the barest hint of green left

the images below show the full range of colour with the pure grass version at the far right

(these  show the smoother side)

the photo below is of the rougher side of the paper

 after some thoughtful comments on last weeks post about sketchbooks and ledgers, recording and sampling,  I prepared a small book to record my paper-making adventures, the material used, where and when it was gathered and how it was processed along with a small sample of each of the paper sets

the interesting thing with this batch is that I used 80% beige leaves to 20% green - it makes me wonder what 100% green would look like?

reed canary grass is an invasive species in this area and is more than abundant... there are no issues with me picking as much as I want so whilst its still green I'll be heading out to get a few armfuls to work with over the winter

I'm finished with the yard and garden but I think the Fall Harvest is not quite finished yet

take care,

Jillayne