leaf love and a month-long magical mystery tour

Would you like to join me for a workshop?

A long one that lasts a month?

Want to learn different ways of bundling to

let those lovely string marks shine on your work?

Want to know to bring saved dried leaves back to life?

Would you like to ease into a daily morning writing practice,

connect with a whirled-wide community and

dance your way through February?

Why February?

It might be the shortest month but in the North,

though we all know that the earth needs a rest before

the abundance of spring, the long hours of dark together

with driech weather can get to your soul.

And not in a good way.

Here in the South we just feel the roasting

heat of summer will never end.

So once again I have dreamed up an adventure

that can be enjoyed from wherever you are in the whirled.

It begins now, with a wee bit of prep, then goes to sleep

while you deal with whatever

the Festive Season is throwing at you 😉.

Late in January I'll send a wakey-wakey email

to remind you that the fun is about to begin,

and then every day in February

an email will fly in from me, with instructions

for the mystery project that we are making together. 

All I will tell you now is that it is both beautiful and useful,

and that we will be using cloth from your stash

and your ragbag along with whatever threads

you want to stitch with,

and all of the beads and buttons your heart desires.

You'll begin each day with quiet moments of grounding,

light a candle, do a little writing and then work on your project,

step by step until it all comes together

and you take it out into the light of day

at the end of the month.

And did I mention pie?

There will be pie.

Want to know more ?

Please click on the heart below.

the school of nomad arts

I am pinching myself ... but it is true.

I have taken the plunge.

(what on earth is she on about, I hear you mutter)

Thanks to my friend Christi Carter telling me about Seasonal Affective Disorder, (something that was unknown to me) which prompted me to dream up a February project to help keep the February blues at bay...and then her insisting I really needed to make a video for the FB group (created for those who invested in the Bagstories book)

and then the darling Bagsisters being so very kind about my filming skills (and a bit of pride myself because I was able to make a wee film without saying UM or anything naughtier).

All of this gave me the confidence to create a virtual campfire that I am calling

the School of Nomad Arts.

it is the place you can go to learn and to make, all while curled up in your armchair, wearing your favourite jimjams and without having to brush your hair if you can't be bothered.

the first ever class is

the Alchemist's Apron

starting on March 22 (but open for enrolments now).

care to join me there? I hope so.

journeying

it's nearly 9 years (next March) since Eco Colour (a book i wanted to call 'botanical alchemy' but was told the title wouldn't sell) hit the bookstores. in that time what i initially referred to as 'ecoprint' has spread far and wide. thousands of people are making a living by printing with plants.

hilariously, though i was the first to publish the technique* i usually see myself referred to as an "also ran" in various media. a recent book about natural processes in textile art listed me merely as a "practitioner" of the technique (though instructions for ecoprinting are scattered generously throughout its pages).

i've seen colleagues absorb my work into their teaching practices, and observed "fashion labels" created after people have taken classes....sometimes only a one day class.

and there are so many people out there teaching "ecoprinting" (though much of it is not ecologically sustainable at all, as toxic adjuncts are increasingly employed) that i no longer offer basic "how to" classes. it would be like having to play "twinkle, twinkle, little star" over and over again.

not much fun for me, and ergo less for my students.

which is how 'being (t)here' took root and has grown into a retreat class that embraces being fully present and at the same time exploring the poetics of place.
it gives me such joy to be able to offer something more than just a class about printing with leaves.

for me, 'being (t)here' is a way of experiencing the whirled that helps open the cracks that let the light get in (thank you Leonard, for that phrase) no matter where you are. it offers a pathway to beauty that can be rolled out whether you're in a verdant forest, a shimmering desert, an urban wasteland or your own private paradise.

we observe and see, write and draw, print and dye. we fold paper into books...  the island book fold and its bigger cousin the river book, making a journals from single sheets of paper :: without having to thread a needle.

together we make discoveries, in ourselves AND in the dyepot. the other lovely thing that's been happening is that many of the students keep in touch with each other after the workshops. sometimes they make a facebook group, sometimes a blog. others just wrestle with an email list. but they maintain the connections and forge deep bonds. it's wonderful.

i've been teaching less through institutions (though i remain loyal to a select few), and more in beautiful and sometimes unusual places. the Yellow Ferry is one of these. there is something deeply magical about being on a boat, which is why i will be back there in February 2017.
i've reduced the class numbers and though the feedback from many people is that they consider the fee too high, the investment for the class is actually the same as for the first one, it's just that i have sourced a richer collection of materials for each person to work with, with treasures such as a limited edition silkymerino dress to take home.
 as a business proposition it is laughable because the expenses won't balance against the income...but to me it is absolutely worth it for the experience we will all have.

because it is the journey that matters, in the end.

and i am loving the ride.



*you'll see references to "nature printing" that are earlier, but that is a technique where the plant is dipped in paint or dye and pressed against a substrate of some kind

look deep into the heart of a flower

photo by Christi Carter

if you bother to follow this blog then i probably don't need to spell out my thoughts on politics...suffice it to say that given my family history
and the stories i have been told by both sets of grandparents
each of whom chose exile over compromise
the results of the American election
coincidentally announced in Australia on the anniversary of Kristallnacht
fill me with foreboding.

what can i do about this? not a great deal
except
continue to live life to the best of my ability
continue to be care-full for my fellow humans
continue to hold true to the path that has been given me

now, i am surer than ever
that bending my work to the poetics of place
paying attention to being present, in 'being (t)here' as a way of life
rather than simply teaching "how to print leaves onto things"
is the way i must go.

yes, it means continuing to fly about in planes (windsurfing takes too long and my journals get wet) but that also means planting more trees at home to mitigate my share in the emissions
and because so many of you have kindly told me, both to my face, in emails, and increasingly in beautiful hand-written letters
that giving yourself the gift of time
(in a place that is not necessarily home)
to explore the small wonders of the whirled
through dyeing, drawing and writing
has made life better and richer for you,
i plan to continue doing this work.

because it gives me hope, too.

this past month i wandered to the remote western isles of Scotland
found deep magic there
took time to re-examine aspects of what i offer in 'being (t)here'
sat on the wild hillside and sang aloud
walked barefoot in the cold waters and refreshed my soul
brewed dye samples from gatherings around me

and thought about the return to my beloved Bay in February.
decided to make it smaller, more intimate
and to give the participants and even more beautiful collection
of things to work with, to experience and to take away with them

there will only be spaces for seven people this time
working with me, being fed by our chef (my daughter) Violette, and being guided in Yoga and breathing by my friend Shelley Boles

three places are already reserved.

please contact me here if you'd like more information

i'm also returning to New Mexico in 2017....in the spring and in the fall

and now, if you've made it to the bottom of the page, give yourself a beautiful moment. take a deep breath. look deep into the heart of a flower.

ripples in the mindpond

clouds in sky and field

one way

another way

and one more

stars underfoot

possibly too beautiful for words

there's something particularly lovely

about being able to wander

without shoes

and also

about being in place

taking the time to be fully present

feeling the wind on my skin

listening deeply to the music of the birds and the sea 

and the grasses and the small stones

and a flower opening slowly

more and more i feel this kind of slowness and mindfulness 

is where my work is leading me

discovering years ago

that eucalypts could print vibrant colour

(it was 1991 that i found eucalyptus leafprints on an eggshell

and began to put two and two together)

put me on an extraordinary path

and the longer i walk it

the more it seems that really

in the end

it's all about paying attention to this beautiful whirled

wherever we are

and no matter what other agenda is being perpetrated

just being (t)here,

it works for me.

being there by the Bay (and some paeonies)

last week i helped my Ma to tick something off her bucket list.

last night i decided to tick something off my own.

Ma was keen to see paeonies blooming in abundance in lovely Aotearoa (so was i, quite frankly). so we went.

it was absolutely wonderful, but more of that later on.

the thing i'm ticking off my bucket list, is a workshop in San Francisco

as those of you who know me are aware

though i have been utterly and irrevocably in love with San Francisco since 1976 

(i love you too, New Orleans, you know that...but only since 1983) 

i have avoided giving a class there and kept the Bay area as a kind of sacred space.

now i have decided to be generous and share my love. it is time.

-->

the poetics of place : being (t)here on the Bay

-->

Join me in one of my favourite places in the whirled, for three delightful days exploring the exquisite poetry of plant-derived colour on paper and cloth.

We will gather leaves and words, make experiential drawings, print and dye paper and cloth and explore the translation of drawn marks into stitch. From these investigations we will form a series of beautiful folded books that will map our experience of place and through our understanding of landscape we develop a deeper familiarity with our selves.

The lapping waters of San Francisco Bay, the cries of the waterbirds and the splashings of the seals will combine to make songs for our hearts and provide background music to colour our readings.  

 As usual there will be good food, wine and chocolate. I am carefully curating a lovely collection of materials so you won't need to bring a thing other than some comfy walking shoes, "clothing that doesn't matter" and a cheery smile.

there'll only be nine places. keeping it small and intimate so that i am able to spend time with you all.

please email me for for detailed information

mail[at]indiaflint.com

and now back to those paeonies.

they were utterly glorious.

 my Ma having a fine old time

 there's nothing quite like a G+T while prone in the paeonies

and if you really truly love them

you can buy this farm

solace

dear friends.

thank you.

+

 i've just returned from the Observatory

where

i observed the solstice

by hanging the solace pennants

opening each parcel i travelled around the country and around the whirled

many of you enclosed letters with your work

letters of joy, hope and sometimes sorrow

moving me to tears at times

as i held each piece in my hand i felt the love you had put into it

i learned some new words

(and will need to relearn long-forgotten morse code to decipher one flag)

you sent wishes for peace

blessings for the natural world

prayers and hopes for friends and family in need

and for loved ones you had lost.

you told stories of gathering to share food, talk and stitching

shared memories and stories

shared precious fragments of cloth that held personal significance

i thank you all.

you'll have noticed the indigo dip didn't happen.

the water situation at the Observatory is tenuous

(it all stil needs to be carried in)

and so i had to abandon that idea

which was as well, i think

as they are beautiful exactly as they are

+

i shall be building a website for the project

carefully typing out your collective poem

and will leave the postbox open

in case there are more to come

in which case i shall add them to the circle

whenever i visit the Observatory

in the meantime, my gratitude goes to

(and in no particular order)

Heidi Monks

Cherilene Chan

Donna Kallner

Frances Westwood

Bodil Møller Larsen

Jo Roszkowski

Denise Fordyce

Isobel McGarry

Cassie Gibson

Mary Heath

K O'Donnell

Joy Hopetoun

Cynara Mori

Jenni Worth

Shari Bubner

Arija Schwerdtfeger

Nicole Howe

Wen Redmond

Amanda Holloway

Gerdi Schumacher

Dorcas Pennyfather

Penny Crompton

Evelyn Parkin

Louise Plint

Therese Swift-Hahn

Mo Crow

Cathy Wycliff

Celeste Hansel

Liz Ackert

Beth Brennan

Cindy Monte

Maya Sara Matthew

Jo Ann McGeever Metzger

Yvonne Habbe

Malin Sjöstrand

Suri Vangolen

Morna Crites-Moore

Janet Tobler

Susi Bancroft

Lajla Nystad

Holly Story

Diane Kingsley

Christi (Possum) Carter

Wendi Trulson

Jenny McHenry

Indra Stephenson

Tracy Duddridge

Eva Rodriguez Riestra

Lotta Helleberg

Emma Riley

Sue Fisken

Jane Flower

Kathy Wonderlin

Tina Meakin

Helen Trejo

Carola Heptinstall

Donella Wilson

Sue Gilbert

Fiona Burchell

Lynn Jones

Ronnie Ayliffe

Kathy Jolman

Jessica Grantley

Eileen Schramm

Nanette Gilbert

Jo Brook

Deb Cocks

Jan Rowan

A Sibson

Robert McCulloch

Mary McCulloch

Lorraine Meeks

Carrie Vartarandi

Emma McWilliam

Pat Morrissey

Margaret McCathie

Diana McPherson

Parvin Morrissey

Kate Bowles

Bridget Ely

Barbi Crisp

Jo Britt

Suzanna Klein

Nancy Thorne

Lindy Frayne

Jyah Gage

Tricia Copeland

from

Australia

Canada

New Zealand

the USA

England

Wales

Scotland

India

Denmark

France

Germany

Sweden

Spain

+

Christi has kindly been gathering some of the backstories here

+

some screenshots from my batfone below

you can see i have a bit of editing to do

and then

i need to choose an image of the whole circle for the postcard....

+
there's a bit of blue creeping in, conditions for photography were not ideal and sunshine/wind/shadowdancing were the orders of the day
 

sniffing the wind

it's been an interesting month or two. life's bowled me a few wobblies including the unexpected passing of an old friend - i shan't bore you with the rest of them other than to speculate that i suppose it's the whirled's way of keeping us on our toes. in theory i should already be at the Observatory, cataloging the Solace pennants ready for installation but there are just a few more things to sort out here and then we can be off to the North in a couple of days.

in the meantime, for the first time in a very long time, i have actually cooked something from a recipe (as opposed to hurling various ingredients together and hoping they will be friends).

the formula for Lemon Delicious was kindly supplied by Mary after i tasted her fabulous pudding at dinner last week. i will confess to browning the butter in advance (remember I'm half Latvian) and to only having panela in the pantry (the recipe calls for white sugar) which threw the colour of the mix a bit but it tasted a good deal better than it looked. 

i served it with lemon butter, a translucent smear of marmalade (thank you Mary), a sprig of lemon verbena and a dob of sour cream. unfortunately when plating I wobbled with the spoon and covered the whole thing with sauce thus accidentally obscuring the lovely brown crust. it's not quite so light as the original but you know the old line about getting to Carnegie Hall...practice.

this week i also visited Treasure Ships, an enormous exhibition at the AGSA. after my recent foray into curating i was doubly awed by the work that has gone into deciding what should go where. happily for the curators, the makers of the works are long passed and thus unlikely to query the display of their work... some of the exquisite block-printed and mordant-painted cloths are affixed to the walls at well over head height and so cannot be clearly seen at all. 

but that's a small quibble. 

 

rather than paraphrasing the media release...i'll paste a bit of it in.

" The works reveal how the international trade in spices and other exotic commodities inspired dialogue between Asian and European artists, a centuries old conversation whose heritage is the aesthetic globalism we know today.

[...]

The exhibition commences with the small country of Portugal. Located on the periphery of Europe, Portugal re-mapped the West’s view of the world and created a mercantile spice empire stretching halfway around the globe during the fifteenth-sixteenth century. In 1498 Vasco Da Gama’s small fleet became the first European ships to reach India and landed with the famous words, ‘we come in search of Christians and spices’.  Within a decade the Portuguese soldier –aristocrat Francisco de Almeida (1450-1510) had ruthlessly seized control of the Indian Ocean spice trade and established Portugal’s permanent presence in Asia which was to last four hundred years.

Treasure Ships also presents the story of exploration and trade, discovery and shipwrecks, as well as illustrating the astonishing beauty of Chinese porcelain, known as ‘white gold’, and vibrant Indian textiles created for export around the world."

there's a particularly amusing Japanese painting of a group of Portuguese in which each one of the men depicted has the same enormous nose (as my companion pointed out with a small giggle). clearly the artist was fascinated by a prominently protruding Portuguese proboscis and painted it onto each face. practice makes perfect.

the relics above were retrieved from the wreck of the Batavia. the gunpowder canister at the top is made from copper and i can cheerfully envisage bundling cloth and leaves around it. happily it is under glass and therefore safe.

while we're talking of voyaging and wanderment i'm delighted to say the itinerary for the long-dreamed of wandering to New Mexico has been confirmed. i've been corresponding with Arts and Cultural Travel for some time now and it's looking as though some kind of adventure (but not necessarily the same story each time) with them may become an annual event. i certainly hope so.

here's the link to the very first one. (i'm told one eager soul has already signed up so that leaves 11 places)

and finally, for your amusement and because i've been getting the usual seasonal requests for internship (please let me come and stay with you so you can teach me everything you know during my summer break) and last month had rather a lot from students frantically trying to put together a conclusive body of work (i want to print leaves on my final collection, will you tell me how) and a couple along the lines of "i'm starting a fashion business please tell me which fabrics to use and what dyes and mordants you would recommend for them" (no, i'm not joking) i have been having to compose kind-but-firm letters in response.

as some of you know i do respond, albeit briefly, to questions where possible, but sometimes there just aren't enough hours in the day. Austin Kleon has gathered an amusing collection of letters composed by famous people facing far greater deluges of correspondence.

argentina

image borrowed from : http://www.gondwana.geologia.ufrj.br/

the idea of Argentina has been on my mind for a while

every now and then an email drifts in across the oceans

asking if i will come. 

yesterday i decided to put a ring around some weeks in the calendar

thinking maybe the last week in November, first week of December 2016 

i would need to teach four lots of three day classes to make the trip work financially

(the fee for one class wouldn't even cover the airfare across the big puddle)

but it will be exciting to meet the flora on the other side

and to expore the Gondwana connections between our countries

and though there is interest in the basics of ecoprinting

i'd love to offer a 'being (t)here' class too

so

if you are in Argentina

(or would like to come from elsewhere to meet me there)

and if you are interested in taking a class

please either let me know in the comments below

or better still (because then i will have an email address to write back)

please drop me a line via my

contact page

and perhaps tell me what you would most like to learn?

 

 

With a bit of luck

with a bit of luck
I shall survive the pond-hop
and make it home
so that
I can type up my notes
edit the pix of the work "in place"
(ie where it is hanging now in New Orleans)
and offer a catalogue for 'fieldnotes'

It won't be a traditional catalogue
though I will include the usual statistics
year of making, dimensions, materials, title
rather
It will be a series of stories
detailing how and where the pieces were made
with locational photos and pix detailing progress
to supplement the pix of the finished work

Sorry I can't give you an image here
am trying to post this via my iPad
which
for some reason best known to the ghost of Steve Jobs
Won't let me post a photo from anything other than the internet
very
silly.

Except that with rat cunning I have circumvented blogger by adding a pic from my phone...

nine days later

it was a glorious week on the shores of Corio Bay

at the Geelong Textile Forum

[conceived, organised and brilliantly run by Janet de Boer and her fabulous team of dedicated volunteers]

where i taught as part of the "Design Focus" group

the weather threw everything at us 

from thunder and lightning and soaking downpours

to balmy blossom-filled spring sunshine

it was a wonderment to see how many people are including 

ecoprint items in their wardrobes these days

often as foil to bold pinks and purples

and it was a joy to be told by former students

[taking part in other classes]

that they had brought their plant-dyed samples

to incorporate in new work.

 

being at a Forum for a week

is a little like being encloistered

away from incoming news and most other media

so

in the quiet evenings i managed to work my way through some of the reading pile

including

'a Field Guide to Getting Lost' by Rebecca Solnit

which contains delicious and devourable text  [example below]

we all worked solidly, even on our one afternoon off

and there was much burning of midnight oil

as people dyed and stitched into the wee hours

on the last day

we sewed some rather lovely garments

and the students all wore theirs to the last supper

and now i'm dashing home for a day

to wash my socks and scanties

empty and refill my suitcase

ready to fly out to the United States

on Monday morning