I'll tell you what happened here. I succumbed to a Facebook post by my neighborhood quilt shop showcasing these dotted batiks. Now, do I need more of these favored batiks for my stash? No. But did my brain say, oh just walk down and take a look - you might need more when you get back to your water series? Yes. And so I did. What the heck. Call it retail therapy during a dreary part of winter, or supporting your local quilt shop, or reverting to old habits. Whichever, there I was, standing amidst a wonderful array of batiks, focusing just on dotted ones, and shopping like I used to when I was actually using up fabric!
But what else happened here is taking a next step. A few weeks or more ago, I stumbled across the sketchbook designated for water series ideas, buried and so forgotten that I actually was stumped by it until I opened it. Oh yes, I should leave it out, but I didn't. Then last week, a post on Charlton Stitcher's blog reminded me of the value of working out ideas in a sketchbook, just as I had intended when I started this Water Series sketchbook. As I prepared these new batiks and some less recently purchased ones for pre-washing, I cut a strip from each one to capture on a page of the sketchbook an idea that had been formulating as I picked each of these out. And just like that, it was saved for later, and just in the handling and positioning and jotting of a few notes, my brain continued to work on possibilities. And in looking back a few pages, I found an idea that could easily be carried out by two of my new batiks. We, or at least I, become static without physical engagement.
I've mostly been what I consider puttering this week. Printing out and organizing tutorials for the next books, watching some tutorials on the use of Kraft-Tex which I plan to incorporate into the next bookbinding lesson, and working here and there on additions to the 4-needle coptic binding book. I came across the triangles and strips when cleaning up my workspace a bit. They were trimmed from the paper used to cover the boards of this book, so it seemed appropriate to find them a home in it. Here they are glued over a spread that had a teabag adhered to it. Think of the arrangement as abstract trees, trees and leaves being the overall theme of the book.
I'm adding some text here and there too, some hand written and some printed from various sources. I've been holding on to that spiral with the person in the center for a long time, having copied it from a John Berger book. So simple but it resonated somehow, and with this quotation from Shakespeare calligraphied by Susan Gaylord, I felt this was one interpretation. As you can see, I've printed out some other things to include within these pages.
When I showed this page before, I mentioned I thought I'd write something over the trees. A perfect quotation presented itself on a post by an urban sketcher: "Trees are such good companions that their size never frightens us." In fact, in my experience, the bigger the tree, the more awed I am by it and want to get in close under what feels like protection. That is, unless there is lightening and/or high winds! I wish my small children were drawn a bit better but the roughness of the watercolor paper and my lack of expertise with a brush pen fought against me. Still, I think I get my point across: These are big trees and the children do not fear but welcome their existence.
More real dried leaves are finding there way onto the pages. This one still needs adhering down with matte medium.
And I'm still playing with ink on several pages. This one is ink brushed onto dry pages with a little water added afterward and is ready for more additions while another page shows more success with the dropping of ink onto a wet page. I like the smallness of the pages so I don't have a chance to get too carried away or overwhelmed by whatever idea I'm trying out, and that indeed, it has become a place to experiment. I can spend a few minutes with it, and often can only do one quick thing because of drying time needed. It's good discipline for me.
6 comments:
Ah - by coincidence, at the top of the page, is a display of black, grey red and white! You have the same disease as me!
There is no harm at all in 'puttering'. I tend to call it 'playing' but for some reason, find it necessary to qualify it with the word 'only'. Why do I need to apologise? I find so much good comes of it and also (my main motivator in all my art work) much enjoyment - yet I still have to remind myself that it is certainly NOT a waste of time. Bizarre!
Yes, Margaret, I confess to exhibiting the symptoms of that disease - lol. I even have a sketchbook that I dubbed "and then add red", mostly black pen work with touches of red added. I found myself so drawn to an urban sketcher who sketched city scenes in black pen and only added a splash of red here and there, like the flowers in a pot by a door. So very effective.
My year off seems to have broken me of the habit of adding "only" to the action of puttering. For me, it is just time spent doing this and that, no real direction, no specific goal to be working towards, just enjoyably working on anything cluttering up my work area (as puttering often does amount to clearing the decks for the next big project)or that comes to mind or that has been on the back burner. It's a calm state with no real pressure, and isn't always what I would consider play. But I AM finding my puttering DOES result in finds and connections and aha moments. I blame any guilt that used to arise from spending my time that way on being raised with that Protestant work ethic that meant everything I did had to have some practical purpose and every minute should be filled with some positive activity. So I am not surprised that you have this struggle like I have. I feel it creeping back in when an experiment or design or whatever hard work I've put in doesn't work out and I immediately find myself berating myself for wasting that time. Nope, I have to remind myself, just a lesson learned which is never a waste of time. Putter on!
Oh yes ... there you have it - the Protestant Work Ethic (you note I give the phrase capital letters!). It played a great part in my upbringing too. As I wrote my first reply to this post, I could still, after all these years, hear my mother telling me to go and find something USEFUL to do! It was a lesson never forgotten.
I think many of us suffer from the same malaise. Everything needs to have a practical purpose to be worthwhile. No puttering around! Well, we're going to change that, aren't we?? We're following your lead! Oh, and I love those batiks! I'll bet sooner or later they find their way into some of your experimentation!
Jan in WY
Ah yes--playing with those blank pages, setting down some ink, using them to hold your ides until they can be fully realized later ... All good uses for sketch book pages. I want to go back to making ink again, too ... What are you using for paper for the signatures? Watercolor paper?
Yes, Michele, that's a heavy watercolor paper, 140lb I think. It's the same paper I used to make the eco-prints included in this book. I think a less heavy watercolor paper would work too, and would have made the whole coptic binding effort a bit easier. Live and learn, which is what this whole handmade book club thing is about!
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