This is the last week for my show The Earthworm and The Hawk.
When the gallery was closed on Monday, I spent a few hours drawing all the paintings with a marker and / or graphite – a practice an artist friend told me about during a studio visit that I’ve since adopted.
The work always has something new to say in these post-painting iterations.
Muscle memory is a powerful tool!
My old friend Andria took this photo at the artist talk I did for my show The Earthworm and The Hawk on Saturday.
I decided to share it here so in the future when I look back on this @HOME Residency period in my life, I’ll be reminded how much art helped me find my voice. Believe me, I know how cliche that sounds.
For years, though, I would totally freeze up talking about my work. I finally got so tired of being insecure and uncomfortable about it that I decided to face the fear head on. It took a long time, but I slowly chipped away at it bit by bit. Over time something shifted and I found the words. I have a long way to go still, because just like the work itself, verbalizing the experience around making is an ever-changing lifelong process.
The actual art object is the tip of the iceberg to what’s happening in the studio. It’s so rare to have the opportunity to go below the surface, surrounded by the work in person and explain that which is so layered and vast and often times so wordless. Usually when someone asks in casual conversation how my work is going, I’ll kick the can down the road with a “pretty good – I’m working on a few things” or “kind of slow but I’m figuring it out”.
Andria told me after the talk, “We’ve been friends for 30 years, but I felt like I learned so much about you, your work, and your commitment to artistic practice yesterday that I never knew!”
It was really good to let people in.
In 2017, 2024, and 2045 three solar eclipses will have been within a 150 mile radius of my house. What are the odds? (I’ll be 79 in 2045 so fingers crossed I get to experience that one.)
I made this painting last year called Carrying the Moon. I honestly didn’t know it was going to be an eclipse-inspired painting going in, but after I added those crescent shapes on the bottom I knew.
I’m lucky enough to have a physics professor for a friend. In 2016 (or earlier) she would tell anyone who’d listen about the Great Eclipse in 2017. She even carried around a scale model of the solar system in her trunk to help illustrate the phenomenon and a box of eclipse glasses. Her excitement was infectious and after seeing totality I understood why.
Seeing totality was the first time I comprehended the way the earth, sun, and moon work together. I’d watched dozens of videos, read about it, tried to draw it out, but being the visual learner that I am, I never fully digested the mechanics until 2017 in Pennyrile State Park, Kentucky. It was one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen and I was forever changed by the experience.
Around 5:30 yesterday morning, my husband, two dogs and I headed to Lake Charles State Park in Arkansas. This time I noticed the change in light more. The water and horizon line added so much to the experience. Rarely do I like going to places where people gather, but I like being in State Parks during eclipses because the cheer during totality is a beautiful human connection.
I’d like to make a painting that describes the feeling of awe I had in both eclipse experiences, although I’m not sure if it’s actually possible. But I do have these shapes I keep coming back to. In these two quick sketches I made before ever seeing an eclipse – a collage and a little painting – are the crescent shapes that have been showing up in my work since I made my first mark.
I made these two iterations of a couple of the ink drawings from last week. I’ve noticed for a long while now that I come back to stacks and portals again and again.
And I as look at this picture of a native grape vine that I took a few days ago, a line I see all through the woods around here, I realize the crooked line is everywhere in my work. I’m thinking in the coming months I want to pay close attention to what I repeat over and over and make a body of work of stacks, portals, and crooked lines.
I keep this picture of Joan Jonas on my studio wall as a reminder that it doesn’t take much to turn reality inside out. I also have her nearby because I’ve been looking more closely at artists working in their 70s and 80s, reminding myself that the seeds I plant today may lay dormant for the next couple of decades before they poke up out of the ground.
I first discovered Jonas through this Art 21 video about her drawing practice. She uses speed and repetition of daily drawing as an entry way into of other mediums like mirrors, masks, performance, and sculpture.
I play guitar and sing. Whenever I tackle a cover song, I always learn something new but inevitably end up making the song my own. After watching this video dozens of times, I decided to do a Joan Jonas ‘cover’. So I bought a couple of glass goblets, added ink and made quick gesture drawings.
She usually uses images of animals as source material. I used this great design book first published in 1932 that I got at a library book sale to riff on. It’s so beautifully categorized. For example, “The Crescent and Its Combinations’ and ‘The Rhombic Variant’.
Each time I do this exercise, there’s always a couple of drawings that lead the way to something else. I want to play more with these two from “Segments and Its Combinations” and “Rectangular Variants”:
Joan Jonas is getting a lot of press these days because she’s currently having her first New York retrospective at MoMA as well as a drawing show at The Drawing Center. This New York Times article has some good insights into her life and work.
The book for the Drawing Center show came in the last week the day after I did these drawings. Flipping through it is like having her whisper in my ear.
This was sunrise yesterday in Overton Park, one of the largest urban old growth forests in the country. It’s about a ten minute drive from my house. I walk here year round, but between mid-February and mid-April I try to walk the trails daily to watch it slowly come back to life and the spring ephemerals pop. These woods are a powerhouse of vital energy.
I get a lot of good thinking done here. I solve problems. I let go of nonsense. I see the big picture of an idea.
The other day I heard from a friend who had just gone to see my show. About this painting he said, “The dimensionality was almost psychedelic. It was as though I could walk into it.” Then he went on to make an observation about trust I wish every viewer could have: “I wasn’t sure what I was seeing but I did recognize the feeling it evoked as I looked at it.”
Maybe it’s the feeling of walking through the woods?
Here are two drawings in honor today’s spring equinox. Happy Spring!
Back in January when I started the @HOME Residency, I was in that rare time (for me) of putting the final touches on an art show, finishing up what had been conceptualized long before. I was in full production mode.
In this tenth week of the @HOME Residency, my studio life is returning to the snail’s pace speed that I typically live, each day slowly unfolding into the next.
It’s been a month since the show opened and it will be up for six more weeks. I appreciate this long run because the experience has had time to settle. Life has been happening all throughout – my mom started feeling better so after six weeks she moved out of my house and back to her apartment. I’m still caregiving every day but now it takes up less of my time. Emotionally, it’s an ever present hum.
In my empty studio, as I start slowly building new work, I go back to the starting point of my cycle of creation where I gather and sift, experiment and search. This isn’t laser focused, far from it. it’s like a waterfall of ideas, notes, thoughts, scraps.
In Rebecca Lindenberg’s poem “Love, An Index”, here in the section called “Fragment” is the perfect description of the ways in which amassing a pile of ephemera can lead to something whole.
I wish I could use these few lines as my artist statement.
Some fragments from this week:
a few drawings in my sketchbook . . .
and a piece of wall paper that has been my stash for years – I want to make a painting with this palette.
After my friend Bonnie’s funeral last week (see previous post), I thought once again about this illustrated conversation between Terri Gross and Maurice Sendak that I regularly revisit, especially when I need to be reminded that the foundation of my studio is “live your life, live your life live your life”:
I’m thinking about fresh starts as I resuscitate a drawing project I never finished.
Back in August, as a way to reconnect with nature, I bought a small sketchbook and numbered the pages 1 – 100 with the intention of doing short daily drawings out in my yard. Summer in Memphis can feel like moving through one air condition setting to another. It’s a different kind of cabin fever that pushes nature to the edge.
I can’t remember why one day halfway through I stopped this daily practice, but it doesn’t matter.
Louder for those in the back:
It doesn’t matter!
What matters is I’m able to tap into the my most essential studio tool I have: the restart button.
Sure, I have butterflies in my stomach when I go to push that button, but usually as soon as the engine turns over it’s like meeting up with an old friend where we start right back up where we left off.
Working from nature feeds other parts of my practice that aren’t based in observation, but mostly it feeds my spirit. For a few minutes “ I “ disappear and my senses take over. Even if the drawings take 30 seconds, the feeling I get when my eyes and hand work around the edge of a leaf or build marks to make a bush is a type of medicine.
As I think about this incredible gift of a fresh start, I’m also thinking of my friend Bonnie Lau who died a couple of days ago from lupus.
Bonnie wasn’t a close friend, she was more a clear steady voice in my extended chorus. I’m realizing more and more how much this chorus means to me. Bonnie and I came of age in the same Memphis music scene in the 90s – a rich underground world of artists, filmmakers, and of course incredible bands. Over the years as this extended group of misfits began living out their lives, Bonnie and I would run into each other regularly. She was always so happy to see me and yet I always kind of knew she was like that with everyone. She was one of those people that just made you feel good being in your own skin. I hope I can make other people feel as good about themselves as Bonnie always made me feel about myself.
Here she is in the middle just a month ago at my art opening. The woman on the left is Sharon Hevelka, an artist friend of mine (and one of Bonnie’s closest friends) who I feel so fortunate to have in my life. She’s a witness and a support to my practice. A few years ago a group of us, Bonnie included, had an afternoon of printmaking in Sharon’s studio. I’ll never forget that day.
You can check out Sharon’s beautiful work here.
I’ll make nature drawings for us all this week.
Sometime 100 – 120 or so years ago, a pin oak and a willow oak were planted in my yard. I think a lot about the way they catch the evening light, especially in winter.
I revisit this note to myself:
They hold so much poeticism and meaning to me, it’s difficult to know where to even start.
On an emotional level, I feel both awe and fear.
Maybe that’s where I’ll start.
Because abstraction doesn’t act as metaphor for me but a thing unto itself, framing them this way feels like a new way of thinking. Perhaps I need to depict them literally first? I should look at Mondrian’s tree paintings again.
Here they are in all their summer glory.
I want to carry this yellow and green gingham upholstery in my visual memory long after the couch it covered is gone.
The previous owners of my home lived here for 50 years until they were in their 90s. After they died, the house was on the market for two years and was still full of their 1970s furniture. When we offered to buy the house along with everything in it, the family, who were all in their 70s and didn’t want the stuff, said ‘sold!’. We had a big yard sale but kept a few pieces, including this herculon couch that was the center piece of the sitting area in the attic that had been converted to a sewing room – green shag carpet, wood paneling and all.
During lockdown, we cleared out a spare bedroom and turned it into an office for my husband. We brought the couch down from the attic and into the light of day. Even though it looked to be in mint condition, the fabric was brittle and pretty much started to disintegrate as soon as we started using it.
Fast forward four years, and with lots of sunshine by a window and many naps later (dog and human), the time had come to lay it to rest.
Usually when we put stuff out on the street it gets picked up right away, but after two days, here it still sits. It’s as though it’s trying to tell us something.
Studio life this week has been cleaning up the post-show clutter (it’s like a tornado came through!) and slowly turning my attention bit by bit to what’s next.
For now, though, I’m hauling furniture that’s had its day, tidying up, letting go, moving on.
My exhibition opened at the Memphis arts organization Crosstown Arts, located inside a converted Sears warehouse.
The opening was wonderful.
It’s ironic that artists spend so much time alone, working introspectively, only to find ourselves in the middle of crowded cocktail party-like environment at our openings. And yet, despite how counterintuitive it feels, when I’m lucky enough to find myself at my own opening, I relish in the fact that other people are engaging with my work, giving it a whole new life that it can’t have here with just me in the studio.
Twenty years ago I decided to try my hand at a body of abstract work. I’d always loved abstraction but wasn’t sure if I could actually pull it off. This show is about the process I’ve slowly built over the past two decades of generating abstract imagery from my imagination in my sketchbook.
The show will have a nice long three-month run, lots of time to gestate and sink in.
Here’s the show statement:
THE EARTHWORM AND THE HAWK is the overlap between two states of being.
In the private and non-verbal world of my sketchbook, I burrow deep, generating drawings intuitively from my imagination. As the pages fill up, I step back and shift perspective, becoming more objective. The lay of the land comes into sharp focus. Here I map out, pose questions, and act decisively.
Because these modalities are distinct from one another, it takes time and patience
to figure out ways of unifying them. Their push/pull tendencies can disrupt as much
as facilitate. It’s a continual process. Like two rocks rubbed together just the right way,
the friction between the searcher and the strategist can generate sparks or a
full blown explosion.
And here are some installation shots.
Install-week finally arrived and I’m happy to report that all the work made it safe and sound across town in the rented van and the back of my car.
Since I started the @HOME Residency in early January, the paintings for the show have been stacked in the laundry / art-storage room to make space to make drawings. It felt good to spend time with them before they left the studio.
It’s bittersweet when work leaves the house. I do get sentimental, I’ll admit.
This is by far the biggest exhibit I’ve ever had. And who knows? I may never get this much space again, so I’m trying to pay close attention to every detail of the experience, both logistically and emotionally.
After I placed all the paintings, I made a walk-through video of the layout and slept on it. I ended up waking up in the middle of the night rubik’s cubing all sorts of configurations I hadn’t considered before. The next morning I switched everything around and the placement clicked, the puzzle was solved and the work started to feel right at home.
Then it was time to hang the drawings.
Spreading them all out on the floor was an experience I’ll never forget.
Again, this gift of space has shifted my perception of what these shapes and marks can do on a bigger scale. It’s thrilling!
The registrar Jesse (center) and my dear friend Maysey (left) helped me hang 29 drawings on a 300″ wall.
I wanted it to have a salon-style feel but with room to breathe.
I think we got it.
Now that the show is up, I can breathe deeper, slow down, and let this work season.
More on the paintings, opening, and the space next week. Time for a nap. : )
From recent studio notes:
Building the work
Having a blast
Turning my pockets insde out
Measuring time: day in, day out
Spirals
Sticky web
Hugging the trees
Wind Watching
Making an offering
Finding my courage
Stating my purpose
Healing myself
Availing myself to magic
Underthinking it
Speeding up and slowing down
Devoting my life to the shapes I’ve yet to configure
These ideas are always burbling below the surface, both when I’m not consciously aware of them and when I’m in making-mode like I am now. Hello again.
Over the weekend I finished the last few drawings for the show. I wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself when they were done. I’m feeling sentimental towards these final pieces – bookends to the experience of the last year.
I’m keeping them up on my wall until the last minute, even though I know they’re just sticks on the river.
The ‘home’ part of my @HOME Residency has been on my mind a lot this week. Memphis shut down with snow and a deep freeze. In the warmth of my house, I was reminded once again that my home is one of the many vessels my work relies on.
Sketchbooks are another essential vessel.
I’ve slowly built my process out of these books. Here I draw from my imagination without much thought or judgment.
I spend as much time flipping through the pages as I do drawing in them.
I tag the drawings that are asking to live outside this contained world.
Vessels find their way into the work in cup-like forms and blobs that hold worlds unto themselves.
My physical body, though, is the most essential vessel for my work. Holding the memories of every shape I’ve ever drawn or painted, it often whispers to me on what needs doing in the studio. It requires a lot of tending to but I do keep trying. I especially like to turning this temple upside down to see the world from a different perspective.
I have one more week of working on drawings before I shift gears from a year of facing inward and making the work to facing outward and sharing the work. There’s nothing quite like giving the work room to breathe in yet another container, the one that shows up only here and there, but when it does I’m very grateful: the gallery container.
My source material originates where life and art overlap. Life fuels the art and the art reflects the form of my existence back to me.
Life can turn on a dime, though, and it’s going to play out no matter what’s happening in the studio. A lot of life is happening right now and yet these have been some of my best and tenderest of days.
The last two years have been shaped by my role as a daughter as I help my 86 year old mother navigate her last chapter. She’s been able to live alone with help from me and we’ve grown closer because of it. Two weeks ago, though, she became much weaker so my husband and I moved her in with us. We’re figuring out a rhythm of living together on one side of the house while on the other side of the house I’m continuing to work on drawings based on drawings. Perhaps she’ll gain strength and get to go back home.
Time seems to have slowed down as I work iteratively in the studio alongside caregiving. Take my hand, time says, the exhibition will get finished, the old gal is well-tended to, and in the realm where art and life converge, the seeds for future work are being planted.
Also, we got a rare big (for us in Memphis) snow so the city is completely shut down. It’s so beautiful!
“An extra special treat”, as my Mom calls it.
Hello and welcome!
My studio is both a room in my house and a frame of mind. No two days are the same here. Because a shift in perspective can open unexpected doors, I’m curious to see what comes up as I share my world through the @HOME RESIDENCY.
It’s an exciting time for me because in a month I’m having my largest solo show to date. The paintings are finished and now I’m working on a drawing installation, which like the paintings are based on drawings from my sketchbook.
I’m working fast on these to give each new drawing a chance to move beyond the original drawing they’re based on. They change in the process, becoming something new.
Drawing large feels good in my body, as does playing with materials on this scale.
Drawing fast, though, requires letting go and moving on to the next one.
I wanted to write a track with a title as a basis for its content. I was thinking about terms which would reflect my experience of the artist residency – to create a synthesis of what I have learned. I was open to whether or not I would add lyrics.
Instruments – in the main I chose those with names which referred to the natural elements, and added effects, echo or reverb, depending on what I felt was required for each section.
-Title: Word Waves
-Tempo: 148
-Time Signature: 4/4
-Key: C Major
-Sections: 4
-Bar length: 24
-Genre: Electronica
Section A
Section B
Section C
Section D
I wanted to introduce new bass sounds to build up the momentum of the track towards the end.
I then edited and removed elements to create space between the parts and sections, and adjusted some of the volume levels and velocity. Panning and repetition DJ effects were also added to provide a sense of motion to replicate the movement of water.
Image – I then took photos in line with the theme of the title, which I merged, layered and edited.
Mastering – I listened to various versions before choosing the final mix.
This week’s parameters: to create a track with a spoken word element, as I’ve not tried this before. This also links in with combining poetry and sound.
– Tempo: 82 came to mind
– Time signature: 4/4
– Key signature: Bb major
– Sections: 3 (approx. 16 bars each)
– Genre: I left this open to interpretation
Lead synth line, with the rhythm set to a 1/16 triplet beat to create a fuller and slightly syncopated sound. Echo was added.
Glockenspiel – I’ve not written using this instrument before, and was intrigued how it would sound in contrast with the lead synth line. This was set to a 1/8 beat to add a sense of linearity. A galactic themed reverb was added. I played individual notes rather than trying to create particular chord progressions or melody.
Tape effect added, as I wondered what it would sound like. I played this quite minimally, so was more of an accompaniment to the other two instruments.
Sections – I duplicated the first section into three separate parts, and removed elements from each instrument line. This was a random process – the only requirement was to ensure these parts worked in unison with the rhythm. This changed some of the tones and pace within each line, which I felt was an interesting outcome.
Tape effect two – I included a reversed tape sound into some of the spaces that had now been created.
Title – as I’d used synth leads and tape sounds, I decided to name it after these two things.
Section – I extended the bars in the closing section, so there was time to bring the track to an end.
Artwork – collated and collaged from recent photos.
Spoken word element – I’d like time to reflect on what I’ve created so far, in order to identify words or a narrative to be added. I would also like to add various effects to my voice, so the vocal lines become layered elements within the instrumentation.
I wrote the start of a few track ideas this week – I allowed myself to write freely without initially editing.
It was one of those weeks where I couldn’t decide which track to focus on, so I wrote an alternative. Sometimes I require time to reflect on the work’s meaning, or to experience it in a different setting or time, to see if this brings alternative inspiration and perspectives. However, I also value the work I make and will revisit the previous pieces.
I wrote a track in response to another monochrome photo collage I recently created.
Digital instruments used:
I’d like to add a deeper-sounding register to this track, with samples of found sounds, as well as utilising stereo panning to add more 3D and sculptural elements to the sonic space.
En Masse (Instrumental Soundtrack)
I set a timer for five minutes at the end of a long day, as I was intrigued by what my mind could create in a state of tiredness. The following components were then added:
I’d like to work with field recordings and found sounds, so that I can make other atmospheric soundtracks, with associated video pieces.
Recently, I’ve started writing by playing and recording a couple of quick lines after the general parameters for the track have been set. I listen several times to see if any components stand out, or commence a new part in order to keep the songwriting process fresh.
Track elements:
Instruments:
I’m intrigued by bands with two drummers – it is a set-up I would like to experiment with. In this hybrid world we find ourselves in, analogue and digital drums or synth sounds are an interesting combination to me.
Hypertension
Hypertension
Did I mention
Oscillation
I’m broken again
Hypertension
I reveal
Breaking patterns
Which delete my fuel
Hypertension
I reveal
Breaking patterns
Which delete my feel
I found an abstract monochrome photo I’d taken, and thought it would be interesting to write a track in response to it.
Words which came to mind as I was looking at the image:
Track Formats:
The order of my workflow:
I thought about sounds which would represent the mood of the image:
Intro:
Main section:
Outro:
I was intrigued how the track syncopated itself throughout. I would also like to experiment with slowing down the pace. Creating this has inspired me to plan a video piece in response.
I experimented with an alternative time signature on this week’s track. My starting point was to create something with heavy guitars as an underlying foundation. I used the following digital instruments:
The demo track has more of an electronic feel as I changed the original bass guitar to a bass synth, so that the sounds would complement each other. It is interesting to me how changing one instrument can alter the direction of a track.
I also decided to continue with the vocal motif rather than create verses and a chorus, therefore ended up being more of a dance track format.
I used DJ effects to create a remix version. It was my first time doing this, and was fun to create. The process reminds me how powerful the combination of analogue and digital sounds can be, as I started to think about how this could be performed live.
Can You
Can you begin again
Can you remember then
Can you forgive yourself
Can you unplay the game
Can you return to strength
Can you unplay your ways
Can you forgive yourself
Can you remember when
Can you return to strength
Can you begin again
Can you move in reverse
Can you forget the day
Can you embrace cliché
I created an instrumental piece this week – an experiment with a variety of sounds and effects. I’ve been listening to bands from my teenage years recently, and wanted to explore writing in a composite 90’s style.
This week I wanted to write a song utilising a different digital audio interface (digital space to collate and produce music and audio). I’m currently experimenting with a variety of platforms to see which may work best with my current workflow, which is to layer different sounds, instruments and vocals in a simple way.
I’m often moved by film soundtracks. Sometimes these are written in response to moving imagery, or songs are chosen to correlate with a mood of a particular scene or narrative.
I wanted the song to indicate what it needs to be – to see what visuals or words come to mind as I listen.
I wrote the parts in this order:
I will listen to the draft demo to see what words appear for the lyrics, and see if I want to add any additional instruments. Some of the vocal lines may also change into instrumental lines, or vice-versa.
This week I wanted to write a draft for a song. I started with a theme, then thought of words and images in relation to this. I then experimented with chords on my acoustic guitar until I found a riff I wanted to work with. After listening back to what I had recorded so far, the lyrics were written over a few days.
Now I have a draft demo, I can listen to this further to see how I would like to develop it. I like to sit with songs sometimes so that they become more familiar over time. I also listen to draft songs in various places, as this can add another dimension to my perspective or songwriting process.
As a strategy for making songwriting as pressure-free as possible, I like to create single cover sketches. I start the process with photos, which then inform titles. These may exist as stand-alone pieces, or be further developed into lyrics and songs.
This gives me permission to initially create without necessarily having a particular outcome in mind.
I’ve been continuing to look at some of my previous photography of outdoor spaces. I’d like to re-visit some of these areas in order to record sounds that I find, and create pieces in response to the auditory and visual textures.
It is also interesting to reflect on the changing seasons, and how emotions can also have cyclical elements.
This week I was inspired to look at previous photo’s I’ve taken of historic buildings and spaces. I’d like to create sound pieces influenced by their past. I’m interested in live looping and layering processes, and would like to experiment with using words and found sounds. I would combine with video projections around the same theme, to create an immersive experience.
Intentional walking – I’ve undertaken a lot this week, in an attempt to be present whilst manoeuvring between the pockets of my schedule.
The positives are that I have wandered through unknown roads, seen new buildings and sites, and joined spaces together in alternative ways both geographically and emotionally.
The feeling of returning home, knowing I committed to the journey.
Pacing through places I have lived or visited at various stages of my London life, reawakening memories and feelings. It also helped me witness previous times from alternative perspectives. Some roads seemed longer, or some shorter than I remember.
I enjoy the presence taking photographs and videos gives me. However, I made an active choice this week to note my feelings and emotions on the walks, rather than digitally document the experience. To take photos with my mind rather than a lens on this occasion, and to sense motion rather than capture it. It felt like a missed opportunity initially. However, I reminded myself that my aim was to be present in a different way in order to gain an alternative perspective – as an act towards emotional understanding and freedom.
I knew I wanted to create another video piece, therefore I will combine observational poetry written after the walks, with found sounds in response to my experience. I’m hoping this way of working will provide different characteristics in my practice.
Electric Way
Curated shadows
From table to
Two-way conversations
Combination locks and
Iron stools
A carafe of liquid neutrality equidistant
Amongst us
Punk cacti
Spray painted illuminous neon
Prominent
Amid their emerald counterparts
Railway bridge graffiti
Traffic lights at lorry level
Expectant watching and directing
Patient pedestrians
Noise cancelling would be futile
At this inner city
Junction
Electric ways
Busy with
Curious roaming and inquisitivity
All appears changed
Again
To me
Green glossy ceiling
With a golden chandelier
A hue in an unexpected place
Where other walls
Await
What words have
Been delivered across this wooden table?
Which conversations have brought nourishment?
Or underscored fears?
Light scratches
On its enduring surface
Tear and wear
Chairs without visitors
Afternoon calm
Between the odds of empty seats and treats
Later they will be reduced
None to none
I’ve danced here
Bought crafted gifts here
Admired illustrations
And a variety of curious items
Smiled through crowds
Whilst wondering
When will my
Foundation
Be launched into
Presence?
The themes of buildings and skies continued this week. I’ve merged and edited photos in order to create a video sketch piece which I would like to further abstract, and devise an accompanying micro-soundtrack with words and found sounds.
I’ve also extracted photos from the video – I like the randomness of this process and how the frames between transitions can be captured. This also brings a different quality in comparison to the original images.
Following on from my previous post, I created content for the video poem via a combination of thoughts I was having as I walked into the evening, in response to nature and the moon which was clear above the expanse.
I composed sentences as I watched the video footage, added different effects to the words, and removed, edited or repeated others. My aim was to create a lexiconic soundscape, as was unsure what the essence of the video poem would be. I wanted to leave space for this to be revealed through the process of making and listening.
I also wanted the imagery to be as raw as possible. This may be due to the fact I was working with video, which can have a different workflow process to photography due to the sense of movement, although there are overlaps.
Once I had edited both the soundtrack and video, I tried merging these together to finalise the piece. However this was not possible unfortunately – I will therefore experiment with different ways of recording and editing sound so that I can find a solution. For me, being a multi-media artist is also a process of discovering and understanding the technical aspects of creating work. I enjoy learning and look forward to refining and uniting the audio and video in order to complete the video poem!
I wanted to experiment with making video poetry this week. I used footage from a weekend walk – I was hoping that being in nature could bring some words into my mind, during a time where I have felt wordless.
Here are some video stills and photos – the video poem is to follow in my next post.
I found myself photographing the following recently:
Geometric lines
Abandoned and other buildings
Bridges
Columns
Bars and partitions
Palm trees
Shadows and patterns (recurring themes)
I felt like I was searching – it’s been a time of documentation and reflection to see what possibilities may arise.
I’m intrigued an almost neon palette has started to develop alongside more muted tones, and would like to explore this juxtaposition, and the potential narratives between the images.
There have been storms in the UK this week.
I created three sound sketches using recorded and digitally edited audio. I would also like to write spoken word poetry pieces in response to the emotions experienced, and experiment with combining sounds and words.
This week seemed to be about doubles for me, probably because I have had dreams consisting of two parts. Sometimes the order was undecipherable, as well as the plot. Nevertheless, I aimed to capture as much as possible by writing my dreams down as soon as I could.
Following on from the idea of duos, I wanted to create diptychs consisting of photography and poetry.
Other words which came to mind:
Two
Pairs
Counterpart
Duplicate
Stand-in
Match
Dual
Parallel
Reflection
Replica
Duet
Call and Response
Alter Ego
I also experimented with the following poetic devices:
Free verse
Echo verse
Diminishing verse
Photography and words – this week I have continued to explore poetic forms.
At present, I particularly like working with chance, found words, and experimental devices. I have realised that currently, I draw from a different place internally when writing poetry than to writing lyrics. I have been surprised by this, as previously it felt as if they derived from the same foundations. However, I know this can shift and change.
I’ve also been writing music ideas as part of a songwriting challenge, which has helped me to focus creatively as the winter transitions from hibernation.
Reflection on work created so far during the residency, has helped me see where I would like to develop ideas and themes.
Sometimes I look or listen out for the space and rhythm between things, especially when the days are darker and feel shorter in length.
This week I recorded ambient sounds, searched for textures and layers, and used the moments between seconds to be present.
I experimented with a variety of poetic forms to represent recent feelings, and picked three at random as a starting point for inspiration – a double acrostic, nonet, and triolet. These were composed in response to and in honour of this week’s photographs.
I was also reflecting on the images made last week – it was a process of finding and creating, which I enjoyed. When I look back at the photographs, they could appear to be muted or sombre. This also occurs in my music, where I can find catharsis in minor chords or raw lyrics on the realities of life.
This week I went looking for elements of fun when visiting Bristol. I found swings in a cafe with a window view – something unexpected and joyful.
I felt drawn to buildings with unusual shapes, or layers found in the cityscape. I was intrigued by the visual history of reflected surfaces, in contrast with wood and stone, which have their own narrative.
I seem to be developing an interest in night photography. I find it meditative to walk when tones and textures have alternative qualities. Linear diagonals also made an appearance.
I have also enjoyed seeing the dynamics and layers – the view itself becomes an art palette.
My practice has also recently included obstructed or hidden elements. I have been wondering what atmospheres would inhabit these spaces – the more layers there are, the more fictional (or real), they could become. I would like to create sound pieces inspired by these, so they can coexist.
I recognise that for me, focus can appear when images are more abstracted.
I remember sitting on a swing we constructed when younger. It was situated at the bottom of the garden, between two apple trees.
Around September time I think about the year ahead, and identify a word I would like to use as a form of inspiration during this time. I either set aside time to think about what the word may be, or it may come and find me. The word ‘play’ came into my mind as autumn appeared.
I therefore decided to explore this as a theme. The investigation of light last week was also part of this. I started by writing a list of activities which have brought enjoyment at different life stages. As I wrote this, I kept thinking about the variety of swings I was taken to in childhood. I wondered how I would feel visiting a playground now as an adult? Would the scale of the swings feel different? Would I find my own momentum?
I went out on a photo walk to a nearby playground. As it gets dark earlier in London at present, it looked like night by the time I arrived. The play area was also being refurbished. This made me think about fun and enjoyment in adulthood, how this can be self-made, experienced with barriers, or hidden. Also, how the act of play can be a form of maintenance or healing.
As part of this theme, I also wanted to create a new routine prior to creating. This will be an organic process, however at present it consists of an assortment of the following:
Mindfulness meditation
Find a guided visualisation for creativity
Breathe
Cultivate gratitude
Light a candle
Burn incense
Collate materials
Make a tea or coffee
Fill a water bottle
Put on a radio show or playlist
Decide on the duration for focused activity
Set a timer
Look at where I ended at the last creativity session
Identify a rewarding activity to undertake afterwards
Start
Finish (wherever I am at)
Review work made
Revisit gratitude
Undertake reward
Making lists has always brought me much comfort.
I am looking forward to the journey of this @HOME RESIDENCY over the next six months.
This week, I have been drawn to capturing various light sources due to the time of year. For me, light can bring comfort in the darker months here in London. I am interested in the abstract shapes which can develop over time, and the emotions these may instil. I find light can be enriching as well as mysterious, and would like to investigate this interplay. From natural to artificial, or text-based illuminations, I want to see what I can discover as a basis for photo, video, and sound-based works.
