Wednesday, May 29, 2019
Tuesday, May 28, 2019
Saturday, May 11, 2019
caress
the caress
is an awakening to a touching between us.
It is a gesture that is at the same time
an act, an intention, an emotion.
Luce Irigaray
is an awakening to a touching between us.
It is a gesture that is at the same time
an act, an intention, an emotion.
Luce Irigaray
Friday, May 10, 2019
old material, new way
side a |
side b |
wool blankets tend to serve generations of people
our experiences are imprinted on their fleece
stains, worn bindings, mended areas
Marie Watt
Thursday, May 9, 2019
this is not a hobby for you
'you have such integrity in your work'
'you have got to guard against your desire to take eveyrthing to such high standard'
'there is no point in being academically ambitious if you become creatively sterile'
'nurture your creativity with things like your family life. You need to"
Joan Richardson 2011
phone call conversation with my tutor during my degree work from Opus School of Textile art, Middlesex University UK, (notes from my journal of that time)
'you have got to guard against your desire to take eveyrthing to such high standard'
'there is no point in being academically ambitious if you become creatively sterile'
'nurture your creativity with things like your family life. You need to"
Joan Richardson 2011
phone call conversation with my tutor during my degree work from Opus School of Textile art, Middlesex University UK, (notes from my journal of that time)
Friday, May 3, 2019
I work like a gardener
I work for a long time, sometimes years, on the same canvas.
But all this time, there are periods, sometimes quite long,
when I'm not doing anything with it.
It doesn't worry me if a canvas remains in progress for years in my studio.
I think of my studio as a kitchen garden.
Here, there are artichokes. There, potatoes.
Leaves must be cut so the fruit can grow.
At the right moment, I must prune.
I work like a gardener.
Things come slowly.
Things follow their natural course.
They grow, they ripen.
I must graft, I must water, as with lettuce.
Ripening goes on in my mind.
So I'm always working at a great many things at the same time.
Joan Miro
But all this time, there are periods, sometimes quite long,
when I'm not doing anything with it.
It doesn't worry me if a canvas remains in progress for years in my studio.
I think of my studio as a kitchen garden.
Here, there are artichokes. There, potatoes.
Leaves must be cut so the fruit can grow.
At the right moment, I must prune.
I work like a gardener.
Things come slowly.
Things follow their natural course.
They grow, they ripen.
I must graft, I must water, as with lettuce.
Ripening goes on in my mind.
So I'm always working at a great many things at the same time.
Joan Miro
Wednesday, May 1, 2019
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