saturday

Today is quiet. I've cleaned the house from bottom to top, swept the cobwebs off the ceiling (then got mud on the carpet, oh well) and now I'm sat with an hour to spare. Peace.

And I'm going to go upstairs and carry on the clear out upstairs in the soon to be babies room. Yesterday I got rid of all my cardboard stash (what, you don't have a cardboard stash? Lovely large pristine bits of corrugated cardboard, no stickers or dints or print or writing, just waiting to be turned into packaging or storage boxes or who knows what... but also taking up about half of the wardrobe...) Its gone in the garden to be used to cover the veg beds in spring, the half built veg beds, oh well. Perhaps I'm starting to accept I won't use these things I keep just in case; that its better to use them now or to pass them on rather than to keep them there and have to keep track of them in my mind. Maybe my priorities are going to change, I want life to be simple.

 2012 is going to be interesting...

friday

Well, the shortest day is over, and what a beautiful one. Sunshine, blue skies, unusual clouds... 

Today it's raining, but the mood lifting effects of the sunshine linger on. That combined with time off work, spending time with lovely friends and family and feeling my little baby swizzle around in my belly (trying and nearly succeeding to spill my cup of tea). More and more daylight now until I meet him...

on bags

A bag for my lovely friend Emily.

I seem to make her a bag every year (2007 2008 2009...) and as I had this upholstry weight floral Cath Kidson fabric I thought why should this year be any different. A girl can never have too many bags right. And the more I sew the more I learn and the more I think I can do better than the bag I made before. So, sorry Emily, you are the recipient of the evidnece of my learning curve ;)

The design for this bag just seemed to come together one day, as these things sometimes do. I saw a bag with a woven strap (on the street, on the internet, who knows where) and when I was thinking about a present for Emily that image popped into my head, and it seemed to suggest a curved bag, to follow the line of the strap. So I cut out some shapes, a front and a back and a flap and a gusset, and sewed them together with thinking about it all too much. Kind of like having an image of a finished thing in my head, then closing my eyes and moving towards it without worrying about going of the track. A kind of intuition? Of having had enough sewing go wrong to get a certain feel for the right direction? Certainly a feeling of freedom that could perhaps get quite addictive.

I just looked back through my archives, looking for a bag I'd made in the past to compare this one to and realised I've actually made quite a few... Perhaps all this bag making practice is starting to sink in...

thursday

I've been thinking a lot about grass recently; about the bare patch of earth prepared in my garden, waiting for spring and for grass seed, but already green with wild grass; its resilience and persistence.

I've been looking out for green shoots whilst wrapped up in my coat and scarf and boots, and thinking about laying back in my overgrown lawn, seed heads tickling...


Rustling is not quite the word to describe the feeling of laying back amongst the grass, and whisper is too soft for the sound it makes in my ears. It's been a while since I've had sunshine on my skin.


And I've been thinking about these pictures taken last summer, how it felt to lay there, and I've been cutting blade after blade of grass with my scalpel.

weeds

The making frenzy continues but I've been really trying to focus and not let myself get distracted. I currently at this moment only have three things on the go at once so I'm getting better... And I'm pushing myself to finish things when I start them. Not always successful (!) but I'm trying. Small steps.


So, I've had a few things waiting patiently to be listed in my shop for a month or so now, photos taken and everything (which is normally the stumbling block for me, getting the photos to look good and not blurry and washed out etc. Perhaps I need a new camera, the one I have is 10 years old... ) Anyway, these note books have drawings of weeds screen printed on the covers, weeds I dug up and then felt sorry for as they sat drying in the sun, so I drew them. I like these drawings. And I'm hoping this listing isn't just procrastination for the things I should be doing. I'm telling myself it's just finishing a job...

Sometimes I wish I didn't make things. I think about just coming in and sitting down on the sofa and not feeling like I should be doing something with my hands. Not thinking about if the shade of red on the box is wrong and perhaps it should be grey. Or if the dimensions are right at all. Right. And I should've cut that paper because now I'll have to fold it tomorrow and I won't have time to sew it. In fact now I've seen all the folded up bits in a pile on the floor I'd like to sew them all together into to maybe a big circle, look how the fold lines line up. But then I'd have to cut and sew them all again because I need them for something else too. And I have 10 of the same books to make (the covers half prepared) but theres a sewing pattern growing in my head and I try to experiment but mess it up and I should've been sewing the books. I try to do too many things at once and none of them turn out right because of it. Or they might be right but I don't feel its the best they could be. I wonder whats the point.

I know you're right to tell me to just get on with it. I hate the sound of myself.


Tell me you feel like this sometimes too?

more trees

I've been working on this quilt for a while now, a tree here, a tree there. And today the top is finished!


And I've been thinking about what the back should be like... perhaps solid white, with the quilting in colour so the stitching makes a pattern on its own, or patchwork in different shades of white, or maybe random patchwork of all the colours of the trees (a bit like this). It's hard to decide.


As for the quilting... follow the patterns of the tree outlines like last time? Or maybe an all over pattern. I like the idea of something more compact, maybe just straight lines, straight across. Or a grid. Would that spoil the trees, or would they speak for themselves anyway. And green quilting thread? White? What about red?? I saw some really beautiful quilts at the V&A exhibition, just lines of varying thickness of stitches on a flat background. Perhaps I'm getting mixed up, trying to put too many ideas into one thing, perhaps that's quilt number three instead...


And. I've decided to try and hand quilt it. I don't think it will fit through my old machine and I don't have a quilting foot, and I think I quite like the idea of sitting with it on my knee in the evenings. We'll see how I feel a few thousand stitches later...

spine book

Thank you for all your lovely comments about the book in my last post. I love the challenge of a commission, pushing myself to come up with something that I wouldn't normally think to do, and making the effort to produce the best possible thing I can. It's sometimes hard wondering what expectations might be attached to the finished item, but I just keep telling myself to make something I am happy with, something I'm proud of and hope that is enough...

Anyway, I'm hoping to make some more books in this style (but with tree cut outs I think, or perhaps thin little concertina circles??) soon, when the working of evenings finishes in a few weeks for the summer. A whole 4 hours of day light every evening, luxury!


This is a book I made for the artists book fair a few months ago, and one of them has been sitting on my coffee table for weeks now. I keep picking it up and twiddling it about, curving it round, watching it spring back. I think it's inspiring me to get folding again...


You can get one of your own here if you like that kind of thing ;)

dandelions

I've finally got round to taking some pictures of some of the books I made for the artist's book fair back in when was it, March. Thought you might like to see them. The book I am most pleased with is the one about dandelions...


The drawings were done on a lovely sunny day, whilst weeding and dreaming in my garden. At the moment it's an overgrown mess, but one day it will be a little paradise I hope.

Its screen printed in dark brown and white, I made the background by painting indian ink on tracing paper over the drawings. This can then be exposed directly to the screen which I think gives it a directness often lost on computer generated images (or perhaps its that I'm no good at computers, who knows) I think its the first screen print I have made that I'm actually pleased with...


After looking through the book the back cover opens to reveal behind the weeds a little plan of my garden, how it is now not how it will be when its done... and then the plan lifts up to show a careful drawing of the dirt that was left in the fold of my sketch book when I finally put the dandelions on the compost heap. You can see more pics here


The whole this can be opened completely to look at all the weeds at once. I've got one framed on my desk to remind me. Go out and do the weeding.

Wednesday

I can't wait for summer. Specifically some free time in summer to work on new prints and books. I think the light evenings are finally getting through to my brain, and I'm starting to try and spend time in my studio after work, starting to have free time at lunch times to make prints...

I seem to have spent the last few months starting things and never finishing them, not being able to motivate myself, not feeling like anything is worth it. I know this is just how it goes, but at the time that doesn't seem to help. But in the last few days I've looked at the piles of cover-less books and screen printing positives and notes scrawled on scraps on my shelves and felt not overwhelmed but perhaps a little bit inspired to make a start on them again...

Today I sewed a book, the finished thing feels good in my hands.


And I wonder what I could do if I felt motivated all the time?!

in on my own on wednesday evening

I was looking back through old blog posts this evening, not something I do often really, unless I'm looking for something specific that I've written or made or seen, which I wasn't. Just feeling nostalgic I suppose.


From the age of 14 to around 19 I kept a diary. On and off, nothing serious, a few lines to a page every night, what I was thinking that night, before I went to sleep. And it's funny to read back through it now, interesting, to see with hindsight, to reflect. To try and look at the things I think now through the eyes of myself in the future, try and see life with wisdom, the bigger picture, something like that. And the other day I had the thought that I wished I still kept a diary. How could I forget my blog?!

So this must have been on my mind. And I looked back to three years ago this month. Found this, about my hopes for the future, or perhaps I was just complaining... But something hit me in the face when I realised. I've got pretty much exactly what I thought I wanted, right down to the paper stored flat, the wooden floor. The funny thing strange thing sad thing is I don't have the energy to use it.

How about that.

phew

Where to start. I got lost in a book making swamp for a while there. Every night going up to my studio instead of sitting about downstairs... it's not a pace I could keep up I don't think, not at the same time as a full time job at least (and I have a cold and vague feeling of brain loss to show for it) but it's good to know it's there, waiting for me.


I suppose its a while since I've really concentrated on making work. On developing an idea and sustaining it to a finished thing, a finished thing I'm happy with at least. It took a few weeks to stop feeling stressed out; to stop jumping from one idea to another and to feel comfortable with what I'm working on. I sometimes forget that it takes time to quiet that voice in my ear... its not worth it... its rubbish...it'll never work... Sometimes that feeling is right, but if instead of stopping working I can just keep going, keep folding and cutting and drawing and making, then sometimes the answer comes in a flash. Things occasionally fit together. And that's when I can be happy with something I've made. When every element is in it's place and right.


It doesn't happen very often :)


There are some pictures of our stall at the book fair on Caroline's blog (and whilst you're there you can admire some of her beautiful prints patterns). When I'm at home in the day light (not long now surely, Spring) I'll take some pictures of the books I made :)

work in progress

It's half term this week which means I finished work at half four instead of half eight, and for the first time this year I left work in the day light, a thing to be celebrated! It's still light as I type this and it feels like such a liberation, the birds are singing, I survived winter again...

And I've been working on some etchings; skulls I drew after my visit to the Natural History Museum. There's something about them all lined up in cases; categorised, classified. What is it that appeals to me? Diagrammed and named, no flesh.

Below is a proof of the etched plates, pieces of copper 6cm square, just the lines...


And with the aquatint solution sprayed across the surface, stopped out with acrylic paint, ready to etch...


Another proof, this time after the aquatint. So far so good.


I'm planning to make a little concertina book with these prints, with a slip case to contain it. Tomorrow.

on boxes

I've been making more boxes; to go along with the wedding albums I've been making to store the extra photos, and with students at work. I really like the challenges box making poses; getting the measurements just right, the edges all square, all lined up and glued. I like the puzzle of wrapping the box with cloth; where to hide the raw edges and where to cut to get the fit exactly right. I like choosing the lining paper, cutting it to fit and gluing it down, smoothing, avoiding glue finger prints... And the satisfaction when the finished box closes, not too tight not too loose, just right.


Of course it doesn't always go smoothly. Angles not quite ninety degrees, half a millimeter here half a millimeter there. torn paper, forgotten steps, glue splodge. But I think what I like is trying to keep on top of all that, keep it under my control, like juggling lots of balls. At first it seems impossible and you drop one and then another but suddenly one day your brain clicks and your hands just do it (and it took me a good year of practice to learn to juggle so I know what I'm talking about!)


I guess what I'm trying to remind myself is practice makes perfect, or at least better. Practice makes improvement at least, practice leads to that marvelous state where you do something and one day without thinking one thing follows another and its a pleasure...


Anyway. All this box making leaves me with spare boxes. So this ones in my shop.

notes

I always like to have a note book with me. In fact I normally have more than one, in my pocket, in my bag. Note books for lists of things to do, things to buy (usually tinned tomatoes) things to look at, note books for ideas and things to make, thoughts.


Perhaps this makes me sound more organised than I actually am though. Things get written in all sorts of places, and sometimes I think I should just have one big notebook to capture everything...


But then I wouldn't have the pleasure of picking out books to use... big, tiny; soft cover, hard cover, ring bound; smooth paper, rough paper, elasticated closure...


These little books are for notes I think (or for thoughts. or for drawings of birds?) Soft paper cover, screen printed with feathers in greys and dark blues. 20 pages of various recycled papers, cream, white speckled. Each one is unique. I like little note books.


(and don't get me started on pens...)

more books...

Look what I found whilst nosing through some of my old toys at my parents house this weekend...


In amongst a box of home made dolls house furniture made of perfume boxes, tiny knitted blankets, draws made of match boxes (a classic), little rag dolls with dresses and biscuits made from modelling clay. No dolls ever lived in the house I made from a big cardboard box, but they did have a library...


I think these were the first books I ever made, and it seems I liked tiny books from the start...


This one's a diary, dated '95, which would make me 11 or 12. I suppose that's how I occupied myself in the days before the internet :)


I think it's funny, that if someone asked me at that age what I wanted to do in my life, I probably wouldn't have had an answer, might've said actress or some other not thought out cliche, an answer to be polite (because the future really didn't concern me that much, it doesn't seem real does it?!) And I've always felt a little aimless, like I've ended up where I am through chance.

But looking back at things like this, it seems like perhaps I did know all along, it was just too close, couldn't see the wood for the trees...

Has anyone else ever felt like that?

on learning

Since I started selling books on Etsy about a month ago, I've noticed something.


I've noticed that my standards of what's acceptable to make have suddenly risen. Perhaps its because photos can hide little faults and imperfections, and I worry so much that my books won't look as good in the flesh. Because if someone picks up a book at a book fair or in a shop or gallery, they're seeing and holding the exact thing they're going to get, and if they don't like it, if it doesn't match what they think it should be, then they put it back down and walk away. Basically, I know my work must be ok because it wouldn't get bought if it wasn't (if you see what I mean). No worries.


But online it's a bit different. For my books to sell I suppose the buyer must like what they see in the photos and price and description, but until they receive it, there's still that expectation there, will you be pleased with it when you're holding in your hands? And although the chances are high (I try to make my descriptions and pictures as accurate as possible!) there's still that worry in the back of my mind.

But this worry has had an unexpected effect...


When I'm making mock ups and experiments, it doesn't matter if a little smudge gets on the cover, or one of the pages has a mark, but now these things are quite suddenly so important to me. Small small details that before I would let pass, ignore or just didn't see are now glaring me in the face. Shouting 'you can't send that to someone', a millimeter difference stands out a mile.

And I feel like I am beginning to understand what it takes to achieve the quality I've been aspiring to in my work (Kaija, Fletcher Durant, these) Not that I feel I'm anywhere near it though, in fact I'm feeling really frustrated with myself, with how I can't seem to get things just right, just how I want them; with how everything seems to take twice as long all of a sudden. So many books that previously I would've been pleased with have ended up in the not-good-enough pile.


But I know it's a good thing :)

This brown paper book is a recent experiment, playing around with paper instead of buckram for cover material. Testing its strength. My first attempt at this hard back binding after a few months of not trying it were pretty disastrous, glue blobs galore and a far too big gap at the spine. It's amazing how much you forget when you stop doing something isn't it. This is my second attempt, and luckily it's much improved, because soon a whole new batch of students will be coming in for inductions, and I want to make sure I know how to do it right!