Sandra Brownlee - tactile journals and the written word

this week i had the great pleasure of being a student in a class led by my friend Sandra Brownlee

she surprised us each with a gift of paper

together with a candle and a box of matches

and an exquisitely bound stone heart

after asking us to talk about the relevance of the notebook to our practice

[i had to admit i begin a notebook with exquisite attention to detail

arranging things as though the pages were a secret chamber in a wunderkammer...

which doesn't last as within a short space of time those pristine pages

resemble nothing so much as a piece of sticky flypaper

hanging in some grungy ktichen]

her first instructions were

"cover your notebook so that you want to hold it"

so

i did.

i think i'll cover all of my notebooks with padding and cloth 

from now on

it makes them good to hold

and

having cloth inside the back cover is rather useful for wiping messy fingers.

+  +  +

each morning began with a ritual drawing session

to focus mind and body on the task at hand

Sandra presented us with an abundance of things to read and gaze at

pegged out nicely on a clothesline

we worked with letters and words

and i overcame an inherent mistrust of embroidery hoops

there may be more of them in my future
+  +  +

at the end of today

i farewelled the view

the dog

and the river

and friends from near and far 
but not for too long

as 

i will be back in June next year

to take Michel Garcia's indigo class

and work on a shared exhibition project with a local sculptor

in which the river strengthens its spell

work from my residency by the river shows no sign of slackening

during the day i am a happy participant in Sandra Brownlee's class

working on Tactile Notebooks

my personal therapist sleeping next to me on the stoop

before and after class hours

[besides a spot of cooking]

i sort fragments, draw and write.

some of the drawing takes place in mud

i have been working on a short film together with Tracey McConnell-Wood

that is to say, Tracey is actually doing the real work [of filming]

and recording sound

while

i wander in and out of shot.

last night i stitched and dyed until late

so that this evening

we had something to unbundle by the water

the sky was absolutely fabulous

[and the dress that came out of the dyepot fits me]

this beautiful object is a steel drum

made by Jason Shearer here in Newburgh.
the dress was bundled around it in the dyepot

[if you'd like to buy a drum like that, please send a message with your contact details via the contact page on my website and i shall forward it to him]

the weaver of grass

since coming to Newburgh i've hardly been able to tear myself away from the river

but i went to Perth for a day

to see an exhibition at the Perth Museum and Gallery

'the weaver of grass'

the work of Angus McPhee

whose sad history can be read here

the works speak for themselves

 

there was a "touchable" sample at the exhibition

made by Joanne B Kaar

whose own work is also fascinating

i'd also like to add a virtual bouquet for the kind gentleman on the desk at the museum who, when i tottered in and inquired about the exhibition practically took me by the hand to lead me thither. what a sweetie.

riverwandering

i love tidal rivers

they have a magic all their own

things are hidden and revealed

muddied one day, squeaky clean the next

in + by the river

what is lost can be found

the whole become broken

+ the broken whole

troubles + sorrows washed away

messages entrusted to the mud + tides

faith replenished + spirits lifted

while the river mumbles + murmurs by

rising + falling

going in + drifting out

and just as it is with life

you can never step into the same river twice

paper colour

now on day two of class two

working on the wayfarer's windfall book

Denmark, Belgium and Germany have left us

Sweden, Italy, Scotland, England and California have stayed on

and we have been joined by Switzerland

and even some folk from this area!

the colours are [dare i say it]

are even more delightful on paper

than they were on cloth