Thursday, September 30, 2010
i played around with a few ideas thinking of thresholds, littoral, hallucinogenics and such. and then came back to my first thought which was the door to solomon's temple. any realistic rendering of this would need a much bigger scale so it became a more impressionist feeling.
in terms of techniques and materials the purple central pattern is layered cotton, silk and a piece of netting from a potato bag hand stitched with silk and copper thread flooded with artists ink and fabric paint. i then went over the netting with copper and gold paint stick.
this was laid over black linen, wool felt, 2 pieces of gorgeous deep crimson silk brought back from vietnam by a colleague, 2 pieces of wired mesh ribbon teased open to give a slight baldacchino effect then fine black tulle.
i then machine stitched with a mix of rayon thread in gold, copper, purple, crimson and black and hove to with the heat gun to lightly toast.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
not by telling us of the fretted difficulty of donne and marvell but by acting out donne's valediction forbidding mourning.
AS virtuous men pass mildly away,
And whisper to their souls to go,
Whilst some of their sad friends do say,
"Now his breath goes," and some say, "No."
So let us melt, and make no noise,
No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move ;
'Twere profanation of our joys
To tell the laity our love.
Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears ;
Men reckon what it did, and meant ;
But trepidation of the spheres,
Though greater far, is innocent.
Dull sublunary lovers' love
—Whose soul is sense—cannot admit
Of absence, 'cause it doth remove
The thing which elemented it.
But we by a love so much refined,
That ourselves know not what it is,
Inter-assurèd of the mind,
Care less, eyes, lips and hands to miss.
Our two souls therefore, which are one,
Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
Like gold to aery thinness beat.
If they be two, they are two so
As stiff twin compasses are two ;
Thy soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show
To move, but doth, if th' other do.
And though it in the centre sit,
Yet, when the other far doth roam,
It leans, and hearkens after it,
And grows erect, as that comes home.
Such wilt thou be to me, who must,
Like th' other foot, obliquely run ;
Thy firmness makes my circle just,
And makes me end where I begun.
i had thought that Miss Cerutty had helped me to feel poetry - not just to stumble through, interpreting and recognising symbols in an eng lit audit.
but then i remembered another literary spinster - a much earlier influence. Miss Frances Kate Marguerite Dumaresq was the very elderly lady who lived next door to us when i was a small child and from whom my parents had bought their house. she had no opinion at all of men and could see through my father.
according to my Mother, Miss Dumaresq gave my younger brother a bottle of strychnine to play with saying what a pretty blue the glass was.... but i was her pet and she taught me the beauty of words and language and showed me what lay through the looking glass of reading - escape.
I remember her library which was crammed floor to ceiling with books - shelves and shelves of brightly coloured penguin paperbacks, and venerable dictionaries and bibles. the front room had stiff uncompromising horsehair sofas and a polished upright piano with sconces. she taught me the word 'sconce', gave me rather dusty jubes out of an ancient tin and introduced me to lewis carroll. i remember learning the walrus and the carpenter - hearing the cadences, tasting the new words and smelling the smell of that front room.
The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright--
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night.
The moon was shining sulkily,
Because she thought the sun
Had got no business to be there
After the day was done--
"It's very rude of him," she said,
"To come and spoil the fun!"
The sea was wet as wet could be,
The sands were dry as dry.
You could not see a cloud, because
No cloud was in the sky:
No birds were flying overhead--
There were no birds to fly.
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Were walking close at hand;
They wept like anything to see
Such quantities of sand:
"If this were only cleared away,"
They said, "it would be grand!"
"If seven maids with seven mops
Swept it for half a year.
Do you suppose," the Walrus said,
"That they could get it clear?"
"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,
And shed a bitter tear.
"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"
The Walrus did beseech.
"A pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,
Along the briny beach:
We cannot do with more than four,
To give a hand to each."
The eldest Oyster looked at him,
But never a word he said:
The eldest Oyster winked his eye,
And shook his heavy head--
Meaning to say he did not choose
To leave the oyster-bed.
But four young Oysters hurried up,
All eager for the treat:
Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,
Their shoes were clean and neat--
And this was odd, because, you know,
They hadn't any feet.
Four other Oysters followed them,
And yet another four;
And thick and fast they came at last,
And more, and more, and more--
All hopping through the frothy waves,
And scrambling to the shore.
The Walrus and the Carpenter
Walked on a mile or so,
And then they rested on a rock
And all the little Oysters stood
And waited in a row.
"The time has come," the Walrus said,
"To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."
"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,
"Before we have our chat;
For some of us are out of breath,
And all of us are fat!"
"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.
They thanked him much for that.
"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,
"Is what we chiefly need:
Pepper and vinegar besides
Are very good indeed--
Now if you're ready, Oysters dear,
We can begin to feed."
"It was so kind of you to come!
And you are very nice!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"Cut us another slice:
I wish you were not quite so deaf--
I've had to ask you twice!"
"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,
"To play them such a trick,
After we've brought them out so far,
And made them trot so quick!"
The Carpenter said nothing but
"The butter's spread too thick!"
"I weep for you," the Walrus said:
"I deeply sympathize."
With sobs and tears he sorted out
Those of the largest size,
Holding his pocket-handkerchief
Before his streaming eyes.
"You've had a pleasant run!
Shall we be trotting home again?'
But answer came there none--
And this was scarcely odd, because
They'd eaten every one.
Monday, September 27, 2010
Sunday, September 26, 2010
yes folks, we drove down to lorne on the victorian west coast on friday and had a rather relaxing time at a colleague's beach house.
here's the amazing view from the bed
sunset at the beach
full moon reflection on the sea (from the balcony - so seen through trees)
a and w making tunnels
getting in a little stitching
and relaxing on the sofa
of course there was the requisite finding weird things in rockpools.we also visited the nearby erskine falls which involved descending down a vast number of steps all the while thinking of having to ascend again later... the falls themselves were pretty cool: there were amusing signs and lots and lots of dripping greeneryand incontrovertible evidence of the green man....
Thursday, September 23, 2010
Monday, September 20, 2010
in breaking news, i have just joined chris daly's new art quilt blog - go over and have a look.... another prod from the universe - i hereby publicly vow to set up my website by the end of the year
Sunday, September 19, 2010
but this afternoon, attired in various safety masks and with hair and imagination akimbo, i grasped the nettle and dived into the world of dremelling.
and this was the coolest and sparkiest - rusted metal that i attacked with a cutting wheel - it made lots of very satisfactory neeee-ow noises
in a brief return to textiles i heated and painted this piece of silk previously randomly gathered, pleated and painted with xpanda painti'm also thinking of how to make wings out of copper wire and possibly silk - am still weighing up the pros and cons of knitting versus using unbound copper scourers - stay tuned....
Saturday, September 18, 2010
and as for the not so mystery object - vireya wins the prize for getting it right by sherlockian methods and i lose for being such a chump as to use a labelled photo. the other commenters get a small consideration for joining in so imaginatively - can you all email me your addresses please?
Friday, September 17, 2010
however the intertubes is now back among us and all is good. the rest of the day was spent blamelessly almost finishing the latest challenge quilt - supervised as usual by toby (who has no interest in handstitching) and the sewing machine guardian.
the theme this time is 'doors'.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
although we drive up and down high street all the time things look very different in the gathering gloom of a late afternoon and you see all sorts of unhinted at wonders
and i leave you with a mystery object - a small prize for the successful guesser...