an invitation

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Solace

We live in troubled times. The news is frequently dismal.  Sometimes it seems our beautiful blue planet is under threat from all sides and I for one feel helpless when I hear of plans to send more and more young people to foreign countries as cannon fodder.

Spending a week in the arid lands of South Australia, revisiting a place I left nearly 24 years ago, gave me quiet time away from the depressing news bombardments. Time to think. It gave me solace.

And it gave me an idea.

Reflecting on Emily Dickinson’s “Gorgeous Nothings”, on the beauty of Tibetan Prayer Flags, on Claudia Grau’s lovely wishing trees and on the aleatory [impromptu or randomly generated] poetry that plays a role in my teaching I came up with the solace project. 

The notion of a collective impromptu poem, recorded on cloth, to sing in the winds.

Participation is open to anyone and is quite simple. 

Make a triangular flag or pennon [meaning a personal ensign, derived from the Latin penna meaning a wing or a feather] preferably using a piece of pre-loved cloth.

Stitch on it a word or a phrase or a sentence that might act as a wish for peace or an acknowledgement of beauty, imply a sense of stillness or simply something that  gives you solace. It can be as brief or as long as you like. A haiku, a snatch of song, a word that takes you where you want to be.

Attach ties to the tethering end of your flag as in the sketch below.

Post the flag [preferably packaged in paper* not plastic] to :

‘solace’

c/- The Observatory

PO Box 96

Andamooka 5722

South Australia

Australia


and what happens next?

 

During June next year I will be in residence at The Observatory. 

I shall spend time connecting each of the flags in the sequence of their arrival, recording the words on them as one complete circular poem.

Following this I shall prepare an organic indigo vat and on the day of the southern midwinter solstice in 2015 will overdye the flags in the blue of the heavens before installing them as a circle. if there are hundreds, then a series of concentric circles :-))

The flags will be documented photographically over time and the images and text will be available online as well as in a limited edition book. It may even be possible to make a short film. While I do not have the financial resources to distribute free books to participants, each person who makes and sends a flag will receive a limited edition postcard image of the installation, personally addressed to them and posted from the Andamooka post office. [remember to include your address if you hope for a postcard!]

It is important the flags be made from natural fibre fabrics as they will remain in place following prayer flag tradition, to dispense blessings and good wishes to the four winds...any shreds that part company from the whole must be bio-degradable. Additional decorations such as stone or glass beads, shell or wooden buttons are welcome, but please, no plastic.

Some of the proceeds from book sales will be donated to the Royal Flying Doctor Service, the remainder will go toward maintaining The Observatory. The solace project might not solve any of the world’s long-term problems; I see it more as a simple and beautiful collective gesture of goodwill...a glorious blue installation in the red dust lands.

and I hope you join me.

 

Yoda-san has.

*paper-based packaging from flags will be used in a subsequent project

the middle day

today it rained

which was perfect

because there was a lot of sewing to be done

even the workshop assistant was completely trashed by the end of it all

the morning bundles were carefully laid out

on one of the presents from kowtow

so that the drips could be absorbed as pre-mordants

[for whatever is to happen to it next]

the day was cool

we even needed to light a fire in the house

but

in the late afternoon the sun came out

just in time for us to take a swim

in cool refreshing invigorating

Cable Bay

we swam and floated

and drifted in the waves

until our thumbs began to look like prunes

and then hauled ourselves out

at first reluctantly

and then with enthusiasm

as our tummies reminded us that it was getting on for dinner time.

i was permitted to help cook

beginning with the digging of fresh potatoes [bliss]

cutting broccoli sprigs, picking dill, calendula flowers

chard leaves, thyme

in fact the only things in dinner that were not grown here

were haloumi and coconut oil.

it was good, oh so good.

no photo, too focussed on eating it...

night flight to lost angeles

about the lost one

at last

at long last

in this dusty corner of

the driest state

on the driest continent

it is raining. not much

but enough to lift the spirits

housekeeping becomes a challenge for small arachnids

the resident goose is happy again

me too, i'm having raspberry lassie for breakfast

 

 the whirled is bedecked in moonstones

[my favourite gem]

 

all Sam wants is a lap

unfortunately for him, Felix is firmly in possession

a lack of competitive spirit...

when i received an email from the nice folk at Aichi
a week or so back
inviting me to submit work for their natural dye exhibition
i was quite chuffed
even though
deep in my explorative work here in New Orleans
i would have been hard pressed to find a finished piece to send
other than the work i showed recently in Cleveland
[the reserves at home are far away]

we had an email conversation about whether that work would be appropriate
and they said that would be fine "because the exhibition had not been a competition"
which is when i realised that the Aichi event was a competition

my work is about paying attention, 
not about winning races.
i want to find the quiet space inside
invest in wordlessness and mindfulness
listen to inner stillness and to stories

lining up to be judged doesn't make a deal of sense to me.
so i took the hook out of my mouth, let that one go
and went back to my stitching

weather or not

don't like the weather in Cleveland?

wait five minutes...

making tracks...or taking them

although i love driving

i also like trains

they give me a chance to

observe the local flora

and think my way into a place

+ there are some places it's hard for me to drive away from

so it's better if the control of the vehicle is out of my hands

 [fortunately for me i will be back very soon]

also

handsfree locomotion means i can play with the batfone

and with amusing photofilters

bear with me.

the 'City of New Orleans' runs to Chicago through 

fascinating country. we even spot alligators sunning themselves 

[no snaps, too busy gazing in wonderment]

after a brief legstretch in Chicago

[hoofing it from Union Station across to the lake

and up the shore a bit then back along the river to the station again]

we pick up the hire car

and head east

following our noses.

Dog willing and with a fair wind

we'll be in Cleveland tomorrow.

 

hang em high

i arrived at the gallery at 12 noon, the appointed time
having trotted bravely through horizontal rain with work in tow
the wind was so strong that my wheeled bag blew out horizontally behind me from time to time
the sort of weather in which you could ride a skateboard uphill
if you didn't mind becoming utterly sodden

fortunately i had the good sense to invest in some cutting edge fashion whilst in my beloved Vermont
where [at the Fairlee Feed Store, an excellent establishment run by delightful people where you can buy all sorts of really useful stuff] i equiped myself with a pair of muckboots, an oilskin hat and a cheap but extremely effective waterproof coat.

when adorned in these treasures i resemble Worzel Gummidge

i may well reprise the outfit tomorrow evening after the opening
- should be perfect for trick-or-treating

but i'll spare you the full catastrophe. i have, after all, many others to share.

back to the gallery, where the previous exhibition was still in place
somewhat unexpectedly
[perhaps the pre-Halloween parties are really good around here]

luckily however i had nothing else to do on my rainy sunday afternoon in Halifax, as the Port Campus [where my studio is located] is only accessible with a swipe card and i didn't fancy hanging around in the rain trying to convince a passing student of my bona fides.

in any case, the Anna Leonowens Gallery is nice and warm
and looks out onto the street
where the occasional dripping wretch can be seen tottering past
[better than television]

i apply myself to drybrushing marks on the wall and offer thanks to Silver Harris [set designer and founding Director of the Adelaide Festival Centre Gallery] for teaching me this useful skill some several lifetimes ago. Ben Webster kindly plays [on the batfone] while i reminisce.



we discover the letter 'r' is missing from the signage
good thing it wasn't the "o"

they find a spare and the exhibition title makes a little more sense. if only other gaps in my life could be filled so easily

i get on with hanging the show

at left 'windfall map' at right 'anywhere is walking distance if you have the time'

'cloudland' [I,II,III]

a reference to Aotearoa that some might recognise

'worn'

a piece of two parts

and a couple of details

[the gold is from onionskin, for those who are wondering]

a draught from a gap in the door proves perfect - gently rotating one of the garments as though mechanically created for the purpose





and there are nice marks on the ceiling



i manage to hang the show quite quickly, then spend two hours staring at it
some of you will recognise the work
it was after all shown at the Katherine Nash Gallery in Minneapolis earlier this year
since then it has been sleeping in a box
in San Francisco
and one or two of the pieces have found homes in various places
if Qantas doesn't get its act together, i might be sleeping in a box in San Francisco myself shortly
but
i'll cross that bridge when i come to it

meanwhile
it's 5.24 pm local time and i haven't yet had breakfast
attempts to coax cash from an ATM have failed
so
i'm off to thrash the credit card and take supper at the Five Fishermen

catching up [in more ways than one]

for those of you who think i've found a portal into the future
relax
it's just blogger posting in Australian time
which is where i isn't

would much rather find a portal that goes back in time



meanwhile
i lurk by my favourite lake
among my beloved maples
and
naughtily brew stuff in the bathroom

weather or not

two months is a long time to be out in the sun, given that 2 weeks in Australian sunshine is reputedly equivalent to about 25 years under museum conditions
so
as i'm away from home again [soon] for a while
and therefore shall not be able to sneekpeek inside the metal box
it seemed a good time to [once again] put some cloth to the test
the two pieces on the left are commercially produced cottons, the third from left is eucalyptus-dyed milkymerino, the four on the right snippets of silk dyed using the more delicate 'northern' plants

they are half in, half out of the box

assuming no birds try to steal them
or helpful family members decide to move them under cover

i shall open the box when i return home in November
and publish the results on these pages