When one image is not enough to tell a story, then artist books are a great way to combine pictures with text. I have been wanting to find a way to show pain through its relief and have started planning the structure for an artist book. How the materials and narrative work together is an exciting journey of discovery.
Rejection is not the end of the world, although it may feel like it at the time. Applying for art opportunities is part of the process of being an artist, whether it is for exhibitions, collaborations, residencies, grants or any other project you dream up. Not all applications are successful, which makes the ones you do get accepted for even sweeter.
Imagine a world of peace. On this upcoming 18th year of the lighting the Imagine Peace Tower in Iceland, I look back at my own peace activations. In 2020 I created a paper world of peace filled with green forests, clear blue waters and white polar icecaps. As I made it I imagined the activisms for peace throughout the world. Now more than ever activating peace is vital to us and our planet.
Its a challenge of our times to find peace when all around descends into chaos. I have been repurposing circles of paper I made during the pandemic when we were all forced to stay within our homes. These circles became cyanotypes, the blue and white layers become portals of peace.
There's a big difference between stitching paper and stitching cloth. When I'm using cloth, I connect to generations of women who have created their own clothes and 'useful' household items. When I'm stitching paper its all about the story, the art of storytelling with paper and thread.
I love the way patterns can be interpreted in art through repetitive motifs. When printed as cyanotype images, the blue and white designs can be as simple or intricate as the project requires. A bold stencilled figure traversing a landscape created from cardboard boxes is another way to tell a personal story.
Where do we put our feet and how do we walk? What are the marks we leave? The transience of life as expressed in pilgrims' footsteps was inspiration to entice me into the studio to reactivate my love of printmaking.
I am appreciating the strong titanium plates that now live within me. Playing with stencils of their abstracted shapes makes visible an inner landscape to explore as I emerge from creative hibernation.
It is an incredibly humbling experience to feel vulnerable and unable to do simple tasks for ourselves. Ordinary activities like washing or cooking can seem impossible, yet there is joy in these routine activities which show we are alive and able to look after our own needs.
Post operative recovery takes time and endurance. I find myself living in a liminal space where I ponder the nature of time. How to experience a minute, which seems so short yet can be a long duration when filled with pain.
I’ve found a new friend and companion, my walking stick. I visualise all the repetitive exercises I do during the day within the shape of my walking stick handle and draw my journey of post operative recovery. Round and round we go as my steps become more confident and less wobbly. A landscape of days and journey lines.
I have worked with shadows before. Taking photographs and drawing the lines they make that are a part of the object yet separate entities in themselves. Like putting a frame around pain and learning to dance with the shadow self.
I felt like a star having just climbed a pyramid in Guatemala and sauntered down the ‘Walk of Fame’ in Hollywood, USA in 2004. It’s a memory to focus on when I feel anxious at the outcome of my total knee replacement surgery. I dream of being able to climb up stairs again, or even go for a hike without excruciating pain.
When you’ve got the blues - the best remedy is to make something. Deep blue cyanotypes are somewhat melancholic, but playing around with some unresolved cyanotype artworks suggested new creative possibilities. Something new from something old, one way to beat the blues.
When you finally face what’s holding you back, it’s liberating. My paint brushes and paints are back on my studio bench, there’s a canvas on my easel and I’m painting. Fifty years of not feeling that I could paint has meant I didn’t even try. But I’ve had years of practising as an artist to get to this point. Now I’m excitement to see what’s next.
What are the most important ideas to include in an artist statement about your artwork? After my artist residency in Oatlands, I wrote how the architectural features in the town and its houses became time portals I used to enter colonial thinking. Peeling back the fragments of layered wallpapers hinted at what my paintings were about and how they responded to this historical town.
Composition can be a tricky skill to master. Sometimes no matter what you do the elements of a piece won’t sit together on the paper. Do you tear it up and start again or persevere until things fall into place? Both actions require courage and both can be a way to resolve the trickiest of challenges.
You need to be bold when you commit to your line drawing. Especially when it is drawn up in ink. I’ve needed to feel bold when committing to adding motifs of lights and lamps to shine a light on the history of Tasmania with its wars and period of martial law. Cracks in the edifices allows the light to shine in and is the first step in truth telling.
What views did the colonists want to create in their newly invaded and possessed land? Most held ideas about what ‘civilisation’ and ‘society’ meant and so forever changed the landscape to conform to this point of view. My preoccupation has been how to find a gentle way into post colonial viewpoints using windows as portals. To mourn what was lost and hold a vision for the future.
There are so many reasons to feel despondent, especially if you are staying in a place which has a violent history. Yet after two days of drawing murky black ink shapes, I knew I had to find a way through to the other side of despair. Enter Dr Bob Brown and his rallying call to action and keeping hope alive.
