Threads

I had resigned myself to the fact there was too much else going on in my life to actually start making anything new. But it seems that my back-burner of a brain had other ideas…

I’ve been doing the course Towards an Experimental Ecology of Line designed and run by Camilla Nelson. I thought it could potter alongside all the other chaos in my life at the moment, and I signed up thinking it would keep the conversation flowing while I wasn’t working towards anything in particular, and also, if and when I have my knee operation, it will be something to focus on. This online course uses Tim Ingold’s Taxonomy of Lines as a theme for making and discussion. I’m a month in, and it’s been interesting getting my head round the structure of the course as well as the content. I am drawn to the writing of Tim Ingold, pun intended, as I have many strands of work going on in my practice, and Lines gives me a hook to hang it all on somehow.

Anyway, as part of the discussion last week, we were talking about different sorts of line, and I jotted down in my notebook “Potential lines that have not yet come into being… more substantial and more likely than imaginary lines” and this phrase has been rattling around in my head. I talked about how my wrapped twigs, although dead and to all intents and purposes, mummified, could, in a very particular set of circumstances, perhaps, start sprouting, like plant cuttings… propagated, not dead.

In the studio over the last couple of days I have been handling more twigs as I get ready for my exhibition at the RBSA – titled May Break My Bones – opening on Tuesday this week. I started to think about how I could “draw” these potential lines of growth… and began stitching into them: a large knot, threaded through, and then cut to varying lengths. I started with a dark grey, into some white twigs, as they were the materials already on the table in my studio. The knots looked a little like features, which I didn’t like much, and the loose threads looked like hair, so it seemed natural to bundle them up to hang together.

Then I stopped when I ran out of the grey thread and decided to stitch cream on cream to get around the features problem. As soon as I had stitched in a few threads they became not hair, but roots, the colour continuation being key.

Considering my previous writing here about rootlessness, in terms of family and community, this seemed apposite.

So in my usual manner, I made more. If I can’t quite see how something is working, my first instinct is always to make more, multiples are the way to understand, through the making, and also through having many to experiment with, to arrange in different relationships in different contexts. So now I have made about four (Time ran out and I had to leave the studio) and I know that this will be taking over for a while. 

The cream muslin matches perfectly the cotton thread, it is crochet thread so it is robust, slightly crinkly… not too shiny… it is vintage thread picked up in a recycling centre, so it has a particular feel to it you don’t get from new thread, it has knocked about a bit. From a distance these look like mutant, bleached spring onions with long roots. There is a feeling that they are a natural thing, but there’s also a surreal quality. They are impossible plants, the roots are not feeding a plant, there’s no soil, no water, the branches that are wrapped, cannot sprout, but look like they may have, or they could have…

I’m not yet sure how these twigs, my metaphors for children, now exist within that story. Now they have roots, rather than being separate, poverty stricken tallies on a blackboard, they have hope…

It would be nice to think, wouldn’t it, that an art-life carries on regardless?

But it doesn’t. The art-brain continues , but very much on the back-burner, essentials only, when other things get in the way.

The building work started this morning, and in these early days, it is useful to be on hand to answer questions. So that means not being in the studio. I brought a few things home, and it was my intention to do more reading instead of making, but it is quite noisy for that!

I am still trying to think of titles and prices for the work that will be in the RBSA exhibition. I will be hanging that on 24th, so I need to be well sorted so that it goes easily on the day. I will have some help for that, which I am really grateful for, but I will need a clear head.

So there’s no room for new work. Not yet. I trust that there will be something blooming once the exhibition is sorted, and the building finished. They will probably both be done at the same time, and I can get back to it.

The sorting of the garage; the consequent sorting of the shed; taking stuff and dumping it in the studio or spare bedroom; putting in the skip; and out for the scrap man or neighbours has me inspired to do the same in my studio once the decks at home are clear. 

I’ve been watching my friend Kate Murdoch sort out her work, her stored objects, and her space(s), and that has inspired me! I don’t have to move out of the studio or anything like that, but the thought of being a leaner, cleaner, more mobile artist is attractive. Having cleared the house we lived in for forty years, and now four years later clearing out the garage that still contained the last of the “stuff” feels… healthy… yes that is the right word. With every bag or box of clutter and rubbish that goes to the tip, or just any of the “stuff” that leaves our house for someone else to use, I feel lighter! It is the sort of job that’s never really finished though is it? More of a rolling programme, but at least now, once this bit is done, we know that everything in the house is needed or wanted or loved.

That process, eventually, will have an effect on the work that I make, Kate and I have been talking about this. It might seem like we are not working, but we are. Our brains mull over these belongings, and we curate our spaces accordingly. When we are happy with the “hang” we will move on. The objects, materials we have retained are fresh in our uncluttered minds, and are seen with fresh eyes. From that clean ground, new work springs, I am certain.

Input/Output

The last few weeks it seems to me there’s been far too much input, and very little output.

I am one step closer to the knee replacement, but I am still waiting to hear a date, but it could be as long as 18 weeks away yet. So that is sat in the back of my brain affecting all my decisions, especially when it comes to my diary.

We also had in the back of our heads the prospect of a bit of building at home. Nothing hugely drastic or too much upheaval (hopefully) just a garage conversion, to give us a utility room and a study. This means we have had to sort out all the stuff that has been dumped in there, from the day we moved in four years ago, to all the stuff we have added since. This morning the builder came round again, just to check a few things, and due to planning permission hiccups on another job, he wants to start Monday. So I guess I won’t be in the studio for a while.

I feel my brain is overwhelmed with extra information. I started looking at Substack in a bid to wean myself off Meta platforms, and signed up to do a free course to help me navigate it. So far I’ve only managed one session, but it’s available online at my own speed so I’ll get there. I’m also three weeks into Towards an Experimental Ecology of Line, an online course run by Camilla Nelson based around Tim Ingold’s Taxonomy of Lines. All very interesting, and I do need to carve out time to do that one justice, as I can already feel it will have an effect on my work and how things connect.

I’m still organising my work for the solo RBSA exhibition that will be hung at the end of this month. I say solo, but I have been given a slot to do what I like, alongside two other artists who have been given other parts of the ground floor shop gallery. I have no idea how our work will feel in the same place as it is all very different. I think that is worrying me more than I thought.

The band had the first gig of the year on Saturday. I felt a little under-rehearsed, and under-prepared but it still seemed to go down well. I believe it is still available on the instagram account of HMV Merry Hill. Also, I have now uploaded all the new songs that we recorded in Top Church Dudley onto both Soundcloud and Bandcamp.

So if you do listen, please do send feedback, we love to hear what you think. If you think it’s crap, keep it to yourself! Haha!

Meanwhile… I’m off to do some clearing, and hopefully will get some studio time on Saturday…

Well… it has taken me a while but I think I’ve got a bit more of a grip on things!

I spent yesterday in the studio, heater on, lights on all day, scarf and studio cardi wrapped round me, clearing the decks and gathering together the work I am considering for the exhibition on the ground floor at RBSA that’s booked in from 25th February to April 5th. A good long run, where all visitors to the gallery will see it so it has to feel right. The problem in my head is that most of the work has to be for sale for this, as it is effectively in the shop. I have some large paper drawings, and some large drawings on fabric, that I’m not quite sure how I want to hang them at the moment. I also have some smaller, twiggy works, that will have more “sellable” price tickets on. But I have no illusions. My work doesn’t sell that well usually, and although selling is never my main motivator, it would be nice to come out of it with a few extra pounds in my pocket. However I don’t want to make work just to sell, because they probably won’t and then I’m stuck with stuff I don’t want and haven’t got room to store.

I know I have about a month before the hang for this exhibition, but I have other things I want to be concentrating on. I have signed up to do an online course with Camilla Nelson called Towards an Experimental Ecology of Line

https://www.singingapplepress.com/workshops

And I do want to concentrate on that as I am hoping it will prompt and enable me to untangle some of the complications in my practice, and shine a light on hitherto* unseen connections.

Every now and then I feel the need to sit on a metaphorical rock and view how far I’ve come, before deciding where to go next.

*I typed it and it made me laugh, so I left it in. I don’t think I’ve ever used the word “hitherto” before!

It’s been a while since my last post, primarily because of the Christmas holiday. This seems ridiculous but I think I lost a month or maybe a bit more due to that, and a variety of family events and circumstances. Which is fine, of course, but it does then take me another couple of weeks to get into the swing of things, and I don’t think I’m there yet.

I do need to have a sort out in the studio before I start working in earnest though, as all I’ve done is pick up stuff and dump stuff. The floor and the table need clearing before I can start working on anything. My main focus has to be my exhibition at RBSA. I want this to be an exhibition of current work, but also of work that can be sold, that will hang together as a coherent body. If I concentrate on sticks and stones there’s plenty to choose from. I will probably end up taking everything and seeing what works in the space.

I’m currently hampered by suffering a stinking cold, and could quite frankly do without it. It has sapped all my energy. So much so I have had to cancel a band rehearsal today. I love rehearsal time. And we have an in-store gig at HMV coming up soon. This will be a set of about an hour, so I definitely need the practice!

Like many people, I don’t do well in the dark wintery months. I know of quite a few people struggling to drag themselves into the light. As I get older it seems like a tougher task every year. Especially as over the last year my mobility has got rapidly worse. A knee replacement is on the close horizon for spring, so I am hoping for a speedy recovery so I can cope with rest of the year. It’s all a bit unknown and a bit scary…

But anyway… today I just have to think about today… I need to keep warm, rest, and drink plenty of water…