On Silent Sunday I reblog this cos it says what I need to say.
Originally posted on Becky:
I’m responsible for my choice of what I say, but not for what you understand e.g.
So, if I go left down the narrow track, then I have made the correct choice; also if I go right on the main road or the little path alongside someone else’s main road, then too I have made the correct choice; when I stand my ground on this very spot, this too is correct for me at the time; then again, if I go back it’s correct; or maybe into the wide blue yonder, letting grass grow under my feet, it’s still correct for me, because yes the heart pumps passion, and yes the head has knowledge and wisdom, and woohoo for the mind has dance to give to the body if it is willing and able, but choice has the ace up the sleeve with the [Compassion] card. So, wherever I find myself…
View original 15 more words
Saturday; the first day of spring! This week has passed in a flurry of glorious stuff. At work we completed a couple of tasks and began some new ones; no great ceremony in the grand scheme of things, but a milestone nonetheless. My work experience colleague got a longed for post at the Bodleian Library at Oxford, a wonderful step in her career in librarianship!
For a day, I did some ‘voluntary’ work with the Reading Guild of Artists, putting up an exhibition; which I will tell you about more later. Suffice to say it was for me a filip and small step for my career as an active artist; if not directly or creatively. It was a an insight into the organisation, politics, relationships and the administration thereof. All done in a nice companionable, welcoming, comfortable and more important, professional way.
Today, I am off to a morning of hands on creativity; a small band of artists are sharing their relief printing skills at the Rising Sun Arts Centre, I am taking my letterpress but hoping to learn collagraph printing. So, a nice way to finish a week and begin the weekend …. may we all have a good time?
This week we marked the completion of another task in Special Collections; not too much of a celebration more a sigh of relief. Not that this was a an arduous task, far from it it was quite pleasant; but tasks come and go and there isn’t too much time for fun. I have spoken of the Charles Mozley Collection before; now it is catalogued and in a kind and safe environment. However, while it will be cared for, it is hoped that in time it will become used and further researched; meanwhile, this last image is fun.
Jean-Jacques Rousseau (1712-1778) was a Genevan writer and philosopher of the 18th century and a walker of wide open spaces. While his friend Denis Diderot (1713-1784), the writer and encyclopedist was in prison. Rousseau was ‘very poor’ and said in his Confessions that ‘he walked the 6 miles’ sometimes he read as he went. In his Discourse on inequality Rousseau portrays man in his natural condition, wandering in the forest, without industry and the emblem of a simple man. The walker is a traveller, but travels unadorned and unaugmented, he is dependent only on his or her body and its strength rather than horses, boats or carriage. Walking cannot be improved. Rousseau’s career as a pedestrian began when he was 15 years old, he returned from a Sunday afternoon stroll in the country, he found the city gates locked. He decided then and there to abandon his home and workplace and find somewhere else to live. For several days he walked from Switzerland through Italy to France. He often referred to those carefree wandering days with pleasure. He tried to find some men to share his delight and planned a tour of Italy. This didn’t happened but he did continue to walk at every opportunity, saying that ‘There is something about walking that stimulates and enlivens my mind. When I stay in one place I hardly think at all, my body has to be on the move to set my mind going’.
He goes on to extol the other virtues of walking; the scenery, fresh air, the sounds, the good health to be gained and the the ‘easy atmosphere of an inn’.
Rousseau considers walking to be both exercise of simplicity and a means of contemplation. He would walk alone in the Bois de Boulogne after supper ‘thinking over subjects for works to be written and not returning till night’.
I came across this image in the Poetica da resistencia (1994) it is written in Portuguese, so I am reliant on Google translate to discover is a wood cut. Maria Bonomi (1935) is best known I think as a sculpter, painter, muralist, I though I understand she studied wood engraving at Columbia University and metal engraving in Rio de Janeiro
I have small house, vast collection of books and other requirements. I don’t have cupboards. Why should stuff be put away? What is useful, stays close at hand. As things lose their needfulness then they might go to the land of un-want.
Then there are the things that stay beautiful beyond their usefulness; letters, greetings cards ephemera of non-description, colourful snippets that delight or evoke a happy memory or good wish.These I stick on the wall in a carefully constructed cork board ; made also of equally happy if not a little vague memories
I began this piece at my printmaking class last week. It is my first attempt at wood cutting since I was in Brazil last year, when I cut into an ‘old bit of plywood’ Since, I have tried a some experimenting; but in the safe confines of a classroom I began ‘wood cutting’.
It really is a step up from a mark making exercise. So, rather than making little squares of different engravings, I have tried to make significant shapes with a bit of depth and colour.
Perhaps I was a bit over optimistic and chucked in too much in one go and this hasn’t worked entirely.
However, I am in a position to see which was effective or not.
For instance, I need to decide, when making shapes, which should be defined by the negative shape or visa versa; this was a bit hit and miss and the result, muddy in some areas.
Also, some of the tool marks are heavy and ugly and others scratchy and equally unpleasant. I suppose, these marks with ‘practice’ will soon have the controlled but spontaneous look (or visa versa)
Then, adding colour, chine colle didn’t work but there is hope in collage ; but before, a I need a bit more intervention of the professional kind.
While I am happy with this ‘work in the long process of progress’ I will be pleased to start another and learn some more lessons.