explorations

I've been pulled away from my work this past week but  yesterday I spent some time at my worktable rummaging through various bits and pieces of fabric, thread and paper of the work I've been doing exploring ...

where was I and where am I going to?

and how might I get there...

a few thoughts trickled in, then another and another and in an instant I went from feeling inspired to feeling rather overwhelmed

with limited time how do I capture all this so I don't forget the excitement of it?

I've tried writing detailed notes and drawing diagrams etc. but something is always lost in the translation and over time the notes aren't enough and everything I was feeling fizzles out

a few years ago I was in the same position with a different idea and I took to making small studies in fabric, thread and paper

little snapshots of what I was seeing in my mind, as fragmented as the fleeting thoughts themselves

for some reason a tiny piece of fabric can hold as much information as a few dozen words 

and it holds the excitement as well

in looking through these small studies (they're approx. 1 1/4" square) I was taken back when to when I did them, the reasons why are as sharp and relevant now as they were then

a few stitches, scrap of cloth

some held together by pins or paperclips

over time I referred back to them whilst working on various things

there's always something there to guide me, or to spark an idea

over the past few weeks I've gathered so many ideas for my Japanese design aesthetic inspired work that I haven't been able to keep up with documenting them but I think this might be the perfect way to do it

small snippets, just a few stitches, or one ragged edge

a wealth of information in the smallest pieces and the simplest work

sometimes I think these little pieces are not just a way to store information or ideas

sometimes I think they might just be the way

the Haiku continue… it hasn’t been easy but i’ve kept at it, every day. Here are a couple of recent ones:

Crocus 

spring's purple anthem

perversely poking through snow

tenacious impatience

crocuses in the Yukon… through thick and thin, and snow

Bald Eagle

that piercing gaze

measure taken, then dismissed

the humbling of it

an eagle sitting atop a tree, looking down at me for a moment, and then not

jillayne

making my mark

last Sunday morning, whilst sitting at my writing table I noticed the sun was reflecting something onto the wall at my right

after watching it for a while I decided it reminded me some kind of letter form

not one in a written language I was familiar with, more of an Asemic version of what a letter/word mark might look like

I started trying to write it but was afraid the light show might disappear before I had it so I ran and grabbed my phone to take a picture

because the reflection was down low and there was a cabinet blocking my access I had to take the photo from an odd angle so it doesn't look quite like what I saw from my desk but it's close

the lines on the left weren't there and faint lines at the bottom centre weren't visible either, just the stronger, bolder ones

the two small marks on the scrap of graph paper in the image below are what I first drew - as I shifted side to side in my chair I could see both of those marks

then I edited them, simplifying, striving for something cleaner, less intricate

I did many of the small versions and when I was satisfied with what I was doing I thought about what I might use the mark for

it feels rather personal, the way it happened to show up on my wall, just where I could see it as I wrote... perhaps I could use it a "maker's mark"?

maybe I should go back and read what I was writing when I noticed it...

I remembered the writing exercise I did a while back, where I had to write about something painful, burn the paper, make ink from the ashes and then use that to write or draw

as I had enjoyed that very much I decided to do it again though this time I didn't write about anything specific, more the pain inflicted on us and the pain we can sometimes cause others

the ash ink was a soft pale grey so I went over it a few times on each of these larger, simpler versions of the mark

another very interesting process 

not what I had thought I would be doing when I sat down to do my morning writing 

but once I notice something that intrigues me in such a way I usually want to get right at it 

and I'm so glad I did

circling around

looking through older work the other day I noticed some things in the piece below...

the varying whites with a strip of grey

do you see those tiny curved lines in that grey piece, on the righthand side?

that fabric is a light silk painted grey with watercolour and those lines are crease marks that remind me of the ice lines of the river I've been inspired by for months

in fact, this whole piece speaks to that

hmmm...

in no time materials were gathered - varying fabric along with textured and painted papers, and a piece of actual resolved work has begun

all the sampling I've done, the things I've tried, the materials used, previous work - including this one, have all combined to finally give me all I need to now do the work and make the piece

no more sampling, just the doing

and as that was all getting sorted out and the working materials organized I came across this piece from a few years ago...

also inspired by frozen water, only then it was branches embedded in the layers of ice in the little lake here in Salmon Arm

this one is a small sample using paper and silk to form the layers of ice with painted paper cut in thin strips to resemble the branches

or perhaps they're the trees that lost their branches in the winter windstorm... I never did decide which

looking at it whilst thinking about the Yukon River had me thinking about the pilings, with the frozen river behind

and another thought was forming...

there's lots here to work with though I have a few other ideas of things to incorporate into the pilings so with this one there will definitely be some more sampling and experimenting

I wasn't looking to do either of these but when inspiration strikes there isn't much that can be done about it other to ignore it or go with it

I choose to go

I've been looking at this icy work for so long now, trying different ideas, testing materials

never knowing if or when any of it would lead me to finished piece of work but yesterday I could see both of these, done and hanging

I've never had such a feeling of clarity, never been this sure of something

I have sketchbooks and boxes of various experiments and samples, all of which I have loved doing and learned so much from but nothing had ever pointed me so firmly in a direction to a finished piece of work until yesterday

and then it happened twice, in less than ten minutes

can't say no to that

Making Plans

making plans, making lists, making adjustments

there's never a clear path with creative work, neither in making space for it, nor in the doing of it

still, i plan

I've come to know that if I don't plan to do something I'll never choose a "when"

this week I had the plan and the when but things happened and the when changed

but not the plan

the burlap printing-plate I made a short time ago finally hit the press, not once but four times

the first inking was a bit messy as I'm a bit rusty

still pretty good though 

and I'm delighted with the detail

all those raggedy threads in all their printed glory

the second print (same inking) was better

still good colour but the dark patches evened out a tad

the last, a "ghost" print

the ultra-pale effect pleases me greatly... good for layering I think

against my usual "jump-in and do it" nature, this session was full of note taking and documenting

press pressure noted, the different print-making papers used, notes on the brayer, the effectiveness of tamping ink on with a rolled up felt

I also realized there are economies of time to be had... standardizing plate and paper sizes for printing on the small press would streamline so many aspects of using it

years ago I wouldn't have had any of that idea but now I absolutely see the value in it

still though, one can't be too rigid with creativity so it will be more of a guideline than a rule

in the meanwhile, I'm still working away at different samples of ideas to bring in to the on-going work that stemmed from the kintsugi experiments

much of it is "in-process" but I did finish one the other day

ink-painted paper

petite brass staples spaced around a circle

the spaces filled in with dark brown straight stitches, criss-crossing back and forth

the paper, though beautiful, is too soft for stitching and peeled away here and there

a navy blue Sakura pigment pen sorted that out well enough but lesson learned

I was inspired to look for brass leaf though, but couldn't find any though I did come home with copper leaf

a new sample in the offing... 

and one of the week's Haiku:

carefree summer days

with a lightly blowing breeze

laughter on the wind

on being a child, on the beach at the cabin...

playing on the sand

a start

a few ideas for titles for this post ran through my mind just now

"pressing matters"

"pressed for time"

both have been true this week, and not in a print-making way

that's all done with though, things have settled back down again and I managed to make a start

since I wanted to do some blind-embossing with the plates I made last week I started with with the small flower plates

as ever I learned a lot

the one above was my most successful

the flower is fairly even in relief so I got decent prints which might improve if I experiment a little more with the pressure

laying the print along two of my joined paper pieces let me see how things may or may not come together... eventually

I'm still in no rush to decide the end point rather, I'm enjoying the journey through a few techniques that appeal, trusting the rest will come

the next one embossed well but was a plate used a long time ago, not a new one and apparently there was still some ink on it

oops!

this next flower was less successful though if I increase the pressure a bit, with ink it may work better

the other flower I made a plate with was just too thin to print so something else to remember

I suppose it might work in a mono print but as it was too thin to work here it's doubtful

it was a happy few hours, prints made, notes taken, different materials gathered, and I'm keen to get back to it on Monday, this time with the bigger plates, first blind embossing and then ink

in the meanwhile I have a small book on making collagraphs to read

probably would have been a thought to read that first but... when an itch needs to be scratched there's no sitting still

the haiku continue, today was poem #50

here is a recent favourite:

broken reflections

shards of land, sky and water

current disarray

looking at the reflections of trees in the Yukon River, when seen from a short distance they look somewhat whole though still distorted by the river's current

when seen from a distance, they begin to look fractured, splintered horizontally, something I always find fascinating

below is a picture taken by a friend that illustrates the effect

until next week

jillayne

a side-step

it's been a mixed-bag kind of a week

weaving, gardening, exploring stitch to join paper, trying a sealer coat on the silver leaf, writing Haiku poems, and prepping for some print-making

for years I have wanted to learn print-making... years and years

decades

I've dabbled at it here and there, making stitch-printing plates (a technique from one of Cat Holmes' books), mono-prints, gelli-plate printing, printing with fresh and pressed botanicals and so on

I love the simplicity that can be achieved with the technique

as I was working with the Haiku poetry, reading up on Japanese art and design,  kintsugi, and so on I thought I would like to incorporate prints into the work, hence... the side-step

 I've had a few ideas that have been brewing for a while and this week I did some of the prep

below are examples of the first step in making a few printing plates, some very small and two quite large

a fragment of a burlap sack I found washed up and mostly buried on the shore of Lake Bennett in the Yukon along with a small plate of a pressed flower, also from there

I also made one from a piece of birchbark that was literally dangling from a tree in Dawson, also in the Yukon

I've had several thoughts on working with the prints, ways of combining them with photographs along with the work I've been doing lately but first I need to see how the plates work, what the prints will look like

can't get too far ahead of myself because sometimes the results are a tad unexpected, and for me, usually in a good way that sends me off with another thought...

in the meanwhile,  the poetry writing is going well... I do it every day and am learning a lot about words... the words I choose, the ones I dodge, how wordy 17 syllables can be when you're craving simplicity of expression

I've come to understand that when I want to explain a thought that has great meaning for me I really want to do it in the fewest words I can

I suppose I think it will have more impact in brevity

and on that note, here are are two recent ones:

cloaked in winter's fog

frozen words lay on the ground

still the silenced land

in the yukon, when the temperatures drop below -40 ice fog can appear

I love ice fog...the world is cloaked in silence, it's as if the moment a noise emanates it freezes... you can't see more than half a block and silence prevails

the colder it gets, the more ice fog there is, and the quieter it gets

and this one:

solitary shore

calm water, soft-sighing land

evening quiet dawns

when I was a child we went to the family cabin on a lake not far from Whitehorse

it was invariably windy most weekends, from when we got there,  but Sunday evenings around 5:00 pm, when most people had gone,  it almost always calmed... the wind would quiet, the lake turned to glass, the seagulls settled down and the whole place seemed to take a deep breath and become quite still

I remember always wanting to eat my dinner on the beach, alone, enjoying the peaceful solitude and I wondered if the lake enjoyed it too

when we all finally left  and it could be what it was always supposed to be... not a playground, nor a place for boats, or noisy chattering... 

just a lake with wind and birds and blue sky

studio barometer

over the years I have come to notice a few things about myself and the way creativity happens for me

it cannot be forced

the spark can fade quickly if not acted upon

notice the state of the studio

specific to that last one,  there are degrees of disorder in there but sometimes it gets downright messy, referred to as:

 "the piles are piling up"

if the room is neat and tidy not much is happening 

but when every surface has several stacks of paper, thread, cloth, books, drawing materials, half-done things, etc. etc. - that's when I'm in a "full-on, the fire is lit, my hands can't move as fast as my thoughts"state of working

and since my last post the ideas have come thick and fast and my sketchbook has several full pages already... and there are many piles... many

first a straight stitch join, then the staple version

I have a stapler that uses small brass staples that quite lovely but trying to line them up for this was a challenge

I've figured out a method of getting them mostly lined up but it's definitely a challenge

next I trialed several different binding stitch patterns from a book I have to see what they would look like as a design element for joining two pieces of appear together

the "snowshoes" one is a nod to the Yukon

several more I want to work with but then a different idea struck, and yesterday I went back to the silver leaf

I'm on a texture quest, along with a few other ideas, so I started with this...

letting the brush lines show has some interesting possibilities

as does piling on the adhesive medium, building up the layers

bumpy layers to be exact

there are definitely a fair few ideas stemming from this one

and in the midst of all that, when I thought I had parked the ice texture inspiration that had me fired up for much of the winter months, I noticed a few random torn pieces of paper (one of said "piles") that had happened to land in a manner that looked like the ice so before anything got disturbed...

multiple pieces of torn paper laid against a scrap of my ink-painted paper and I was off again

the layers are tacked together with a dab of glue 

next comes stitch

thinking I'm liking this better than the fabric...

and so it goes in my world

the 100 Day poetry project is going strong

35 and counting...

a Winter Haiku for you, in honour of the ice:

unyielding river

with flashes of summer blue

fights the icy grip