Saturday …
While most people have been preparing for Christmas I have had other things on my mind. My printing press now at home has to earn its living. I began with a simple three coloured reduction image. Since my recent workshop the procedure was fresh in my mind. I intend to do a series of lino cuts in this way using different inks and papers. In this way I hope to make some educated decisions when making more sophisticated designs.
For this I used Zerkall paper and the primary colours in Caligo safe wash relief ink.
So while this artist’s proof is not going rock any boats or pay for the press; the little press and little know-how has given me the opportunity to be constructive and have fun!
Happy Boxing Day
Friday, and I usually post a snapshot from the library where I work. It is Boxing Day and while I am not at work work, I am at work in my little work-space at home where I also have a relatively extensive library about a range of subjects. They spill into the rest of our tiny house. I tell my long suffering other half that they are a proven method of insulation and what’s more they do hold the house up. I am not sure that he is convinced but he does add to the collection from time to time. This one was a gift yesterday; today I will read it and discover whether it deserves a space on my creaking shelves; so far it looks promising.
Have a good Boxing Day especially if you are merely enjoying gifts as I am !
Alphabe Thursday F is for Dolores French
Dolores French
Seems a little churlish not to mention prostitutes while considering the walking of streets. For centuries until the 20th century few women walked the streets with or without a companion, fearing they were thought to be a prostitute. In most cities whores were confined to their homes or gated areas. It was however impossible to confine them; they would venture outside the bounds and find their way into the most fashionable parts of town.
Prostitutes walked; not just to find customers, but to relieve boredom, keep warm and safe and away from the police.
Women would gather in small groups in accessible green areas for companionship. It is suggested that same walk or stroll infused a regularly into what was an illegal and dangerous environment. Dolores French; a street worker and an advocate and activist for the rights of prostitutes says that her fellow street walkers “ thought that women who work in whore houses have too many restrictions and rules” while the street “ welcomed everyone democratically, they felt like cowboys out on the range, or a spies on a dangerous mission. They would boast about how free they were. They had no one to answer to but themselves”.
I suggest that the same arguments for ‘freedom, democracy and danger’ come up in other ways for those on the street too.
Please note, this is an illustration for my Alphabet of Walking ; not a comment for or against prostitutes and their business. It is a huge and complex industry, my inadequate view is romantic and questionable for, which I don’t apologise but just mention.
Wednesday’s woman wood engraver …
As I continue to look out for women wood engravers I come across Yvonne Skargon (1931-2010) who was born in Essex and studied wood engraving at Colchester School of Art. For 25 years she worked as an illustrator mainly on botanical and culinary themes and commissioned by many food and horticultural magazines and journals.
Weekly Photo Challenge … Yellow
Until now yellow, the colour of the sun, the bringer of light and warmth, has been my least favourite colour. It doesn’t suit me to much.
It was with grey, the colour of my youngest daughter’s school uniform. The school was not strict in its design or even the way it was worn; all important was its yellowness. The children and I think the parents embraced this freedom ‘uniformly’ with shorts, frocks, shoes, socks, hats and leggings. Even now 20 years on, seeing the yellow throng going to school is a joyous sight!
Still, I didn’t consider the colour to well until I started to paint and I learned it was one on the primary colours. No artist would begin to paint without a blob of process yellow along side the the red and blue on her palette.
Then, there is the Brazilian Flag, another recent phenomenon in my life, is half yellow; Rio is where a a little of my heart lives. I weep as I write, while we are separated this Christmas.
So yellow for me is a source of light, warmth, joy, creativity but also sadness.
This little chap is a souvenir from my beloved St Teresa bought during my first visit to Rio.Its very sight can make or break me; for the next day or two it will be the latter.
Monday …
As you know I don’t immerse myself in Christmas and less this year without the Brazilian contingent. I do buy gifts but never make a special journey to do Christmas shopping. I usually give cash to the children and grandchildren and pressies to ‘unwrap.’These are usually collected during advent and often have the response ‘Oh No! Nanny its another book.’ For my daughter (the other, oft forgotten) this year a poetry book ; for me by a future poet laureate, for her, with a busy lifestyle maybe a pig in a poke!
So it was my intention to look for something a little more for her; noting as previously mentioned her overlookedness!
So, on Saturday with this in mind we caught the 9.32 train from Reading to Paddington and took the Bakerloo line to Waterloo. By 11 pm we were walking along South Bank to Borough Market; the wind was cold but the sunlight almost too bright.
At the market we bought some succulent delights, that will not make it to Christmas. Also, I found a very nice tea stall while the tea situation at home is fine; there was a sudden need to buy some new Japanese tea cups to replace my rather chipped collection.
Ready now for a coffee break we retraced our steps back to a little French restaurant we had see earlier, to rest a while. This was a wise choice, not only was it quiet away from the bustle but the coffee was good. Also, it was nice space to make use of my sketchpad and camera; accoutrements that win a place in my bag over Christmas gifts any day, even for the overlooked!
So back to the South Bank via the old London prisons in Clink Lane and the Globe Theatre to the Tate. Here, I planned to see three paintings on floor 4, room 5. I was not disappointed; although my husband was a little bemused to come all this way to see paintings each about A2 of a bucket!
Now, it was time for lunch at the Tate in the restaurant with one of the finest views of the Thames and the City.
So after a window seat, beer, wine and delicious food, we, replete went on for the next part of the journey. A stroll to the nearby Bankside Gallery, my favourite exhibition place to see the works of contemporary printmakers. Peased and refreshed we cross back over the river and headed for Covent Garden ; to a Brazilian Cafe where we could sit awhile before our Christmas shopping was complete. So here at Canela, I enjoy Banana Cake and Lemongrass tea and a beer for the long suffering one; while the shoppers gathered a street or two away.
Once more out into the streets and skirt around in the back doubles to Regent Street and the final frontier, Oxford Circus. Although the crowds were beginning to gather in Chinatown and Soho the the lights and the atmosphere was colourful and festive. In the vicinity of Hamlings, it was as I feared ; crowded. The throng, shoulder to shoulder and devilish strong with no spirit human or otherwise. I was considering a contingency plan but we had reached the point of no return. My husband; resolute having come this far and still warm with a recent sustenance break, soldiered on. We found the item, now conveniently reduced in the sale. Then the final 100 yards or so thrust to the underground and home for supper.
Silent Sunday …
Saturday and dare I say a Round Robin … lets not!
This is the time of Round Robin; which incidentally I don’t subscribe to ; but wonder if I did, how mine would sound
… My year began with the death and funeral of my mother, followed by the heart rending return of my daughter to Brazil and her subsequent motor bike accident. During this time, my brother and sister suffered similar disquiet within their families. Meanwhile, I lost my hair, not life threatening or even painful but nonetheless unpleasant.
For weeks and months I dragged myself along trying to be happy doing what needed to be done; alone and woebegone. I went workshops, classes and meetings where I felt stupid, ugly and old; not only for my appearance but my inadequate attempts at being an artist. Even blogging seem like a waste of time ; social media became a monster. My family and friends seemed distant and uncaring.
Often, I would go to bed weeping and waking red eyed and incomplete; not wishing to go on.
Or, as my daughter and son-in-law recovered and we visited Brazil again. I gained confidence to reveal my head; until then I had covered my baldness with scarves and hats. I delight in my children and grandchildren, their achievements, enjoy regular and rich visits.
I began researching for my blog with new interest and vigour and readership went up 100%. I attended art classes, near and far, coming away with works of art that could grace any wall!
I feel bold, empowered and ready to face the new year.
Both true versions of the very same year …
Which do you prefer to hear?
Friday and the end of term
Today is the last Friday before our Christmas break it is quiet and I am making plans for next term; when I will have a volunteer working with me for a few hours a week. She is super special and I am looking forward to working with her! We do have volunteers in the department at Special Collections but this one is more work experience. She is has graduated and while she looks for work within the library world she need experience. So Ms Anon will work beside me helping me with the tasks I do, attending meetings, workshops and even coffee break grabbing every opportunity to learn, see and do.
For me it is a chance for me to look at procedures, tasks I do, the objects I handle, the people I meet and work with and introduce them to her in a positive way. I am a library assistant the work I do is not rocket science, often mundane and tedious, but it is a pleasant environment with fabulous subject matter and is for a good cause. However, work no matter how ‘wonderful’ in the beginning, work can become dull and lifeless but looking at it with new eyes and with someone beginning their career it can be refreshing!
So these items we will be working with next term … while photographing them the battery of my camera went flat so not a full picture … but a nice start.
Alphabe Thursday … E is for Gretel Ehrlich and Egeria
This week I find two more walkers for my Alphabet:
Gretel Ehrlich (1946), American writer and Buddhist walked up Tai Shan, a notable mountain pilgrimage site in China. It was first ascended by the First Emperor in the 3rd century BC in his chariot.
The walk to the summit now is 7000 step staircase leading from the the City of Peace at the foot of the mountain through three heavenly gates to the Temple of the Jade Emperor at the top.
Ehrlich tells us that the the phrase ‘going on a pilgrim’ when translated into Chinese means ‘paying ones respect to the mountain’ as if the mountain was an empress before whom we kneel and honour.
In the 4th Century AD a Christian pilgrim called Egeria climbed Mount Sinai. Although she is largely unknown, her diary remains; she was as it suggests an abbess of some stature. She was guided through the Egyptian desert a notable area of Christian pilgrimage by resident holy men. Together they passed through the valley where the children of Israel waited as Moses climbed the mountain of God. For Egeria, Sinai was the mountain on which God descended and where Moses ascended to receive the Tablets of Law. Climbing or walking was the profession of those faithful in the Scriptures
Coat Hanger Doll's House 