Alphabet Thursday … I is for Italy
Still walking in the streets but now in Italy; Italian cities are considered the ideals among travellers who are enthralled by the ways their architecture give beauty and meaning to everyday lives. Authors compare and demonstrate the ways in which ‘plazas and streets can function to tie a city together socially and architecturally’. While in other cities have ‘deteriorated into highways and parking lots’. One author tells us of the Bologna’s portico, a 4 mile walkway going from the central square to the countryside. Another, describes Milan’s Galleria, winding streets of Perugia, car-free streets of Perugia and two storey public arcades of Brisighella. A New Yorker in appreciation of the Italian walkers says ‘In ancient Italian towns the narrow streets at dusk becomes a kind of theatre’.
Images from
http://www.thecultureconcept.com/circle/the-portico-an-ancient-architectural-people-protector
Wednesday’s wonderful wood engraver
One of my favourite wood engravers is Sarah van Niekerk while her quality and style is no less perfect than the likes of Gertrude Hermes and Yvonne Skargon she is able depict a humour in somewhat serious situation when the knight falls. The lightness and detail in the Jacobs in Shropshire is a delight!
Weekly photo Challenge … Shadows
There is not much to say about shadow it just happens like our breath as if by magic
Monday and last week …
Last week I was sent a gift from a virtual friend on Facebook.
We are a group of ‘friends’ aka Studio Pen-pals who aspire to being artistically creative, we don’t not share too much virtually but from time to time send each other a gift of encouragement in the ‘snail mail’.
As artists we are often without motivation and inspiration so a little gift, such as a coloured pencil, a skein of embroidery silk paper or stylist note pad might be all it takes to set the ball rolling again.
While the procedure is monthly the content is usually random. I received a very generous bundle of gifts, but one of them was particularly pleasing and it will sit on my desk with my other angels. It represents my very first creative venture. As a little girl of 6 years old, my dad made me a knitting doll; with a cotton reel, 4 nails, a toothpick and length of wool I began to knit.
I don’t knit as I used to but this little girl will give me the opportunity to play and feel the joy of a child when being an artist is just a bit too grown up!
Silent Sunday …
Saturday and a question …
Saturday’s blog post and a question; but first I set the scene. I am a print maker and a tea drinker, pretty much of equal measure. Tea in one hand and a graver in the other; I know this is not always a sensible combination, so sometimes one or the other is at a lose.
So, it not surprising that the subject matter almost without exceptions is pretty much tea. My other love is my push bike and that too has safety risks when attempted at the same time!
I digress, I do like to feature tea and its accoutrements in my work … and the question. How does a tea strainer lend itself to the art of printmaking, particularly with lino but later in wood?
I have looked and looked at the delicate mesh and sketched it endlessly but remain wondering … how is it done?
Friday’s Snapshot from the library …
I came this across this little book published in 1962 this week. While I don’t understand a word of Danish, without the joys Google Translate, the illustrations by Povl Christensen are self explanatory and a joy!
It would seem this item earned its place in the Mark Longman library because Danish, Povl Christenson (1909-1977) was not only a painter and illustrator who in the early 1930s joined the artists’ colony in Zealand known as the Odherred painters but mostly remembered as a highly proficient graphic artist, not only for his woodcuts and engravings but for his contributions to overall book design.
Alphabe Thursday … H is for Thomas Hardy
Continuing in my Alphabet of Walking; Thomas Hardy tells us of walking in his novel Tess of the D’Urbervilles, Tess and her friends celebrate May Day by going ‘club-walking’ a pre-Christian spring ceremony in which they walk 2 by 2 in a procession around the parish and lanes until they reach a meadows, where they begin to dance. This is a fertility rite and when the local young men have finished working they will join the party later.
The other young men in the story who are on a walking tour are enjoying another ritual; with their backpacks and walking sticks they connect with nature. However, while his brothers are keen to continue walking the other decides to leave the road and dance with the peasant women.
Wednesday’s Wood Engraver … Claire Dalby
Another wood engraver of whom I know nothing is Claire Dalby (1944-) her subject matter as many of her fellows is usually inspired by gardens, buildings and holidays. She visited Shetland and possibly still does but she is I understand best known for her prints as a botanical artist.
I would like to know more about her.
Weekly Photo challenge … New
Each day I write a journal ; I started three years ago when I began another round treatment for my depression. Writing, three pages a day, words that record my daily mood and behavior pattern. I rarely read it afterwards but if I dare to unravel the awful handwriting it expounds self-pitying twaddle or self-congratulatory claptrap; enough to make a reader depressed!
Sometimes on a lucid day my words develop into a blog post; this is how I am with this week’s photo challenge. While I cannot evoke an image yet the word ‘new’ resonates strongly.
Probably because I am relatively old in years but feel and look young. I enjoy contemporary music and the challenges of modern life. I work with rare and elderly books, yet use modern technology. I am happy with well worn and comfortable clothes yet delight in fashionable accessories. I use tried and tested cosmetics and always look forward to new lipstick. I glance back at my last year’s diary heaving and bursting with richness and the new one slim and trim waiting to be filled. I have some old gravers that have seen 50 years or more in old and withered hands. Mine, shiny and ready to give me hope as a future printmaker.
I could list ad infinitum the joy of the old and the power of the new; but how do I illustrate my life and its old and new paradoxes?
A recent acquisition, a pencil sharpener. My dad, dead now 20 years would throw his hands up in despair! His old razor sharp chisel was his tool to bring a fine point to a blunt pencil. While I struggled I never quite got the hang of it.
This little joy of newness fits the bill.
Coat Hanger Doll's House 