Time after Time: An Artist's Book in the Making

 It has become necessary to create a standing table, so that hours of painting tiny dots does not send my neck and shoulders into a two-day spasm (I must ask Kusama how she does it!). I am also trying to switch between painting very small details, to bigger shape-making, writing and thinking about the overall presentation: my next job is to cut a 1.6 metre long piece of watercolour paper and experiment with folds and cutting between layers.

There is no rushing this process and I wonder if it might be quicker to grow a tree from seed! The tree has progressed one leaf at a time, with adjustments made to the shades of green (purer hues), the background (darker blue) and the addition of white outlines to improve the overall contrast and vibrancy. I am almost content but pink is needed to lift the colours, so I have decided to add fruit. This is a work about time and the human scale, so although the process is painfully slow, it is peaceful and I think the mark of the maker - the scale of my marks - matter. I will roll with the pace for now, one leaf and one dot at a time (see next post!), and concern myself about deadlines another day.

I travelled to Devon to see this exhibition. It was created in Australia to address concerns that traditional stories and cultures were being lost; stories which are up to 60,000 years-old but that still have relevance today, as part of Australia's cultural heritage and as we reflect upon the relationship between humanity and the earth. The exhibition was designed to engage new audiences and particularly younger Aboriginal people who were in danger of losing connections with their song lines.  In Plymouth, the exhibition was located in several sites and there was a mix of contemporary paintings, immersive video art and sculpture; most of the artefacts were created by women in community settings or collaboratively with 10 or more artists. I have a long-held interest in Aboriginal art which was cemented when I lived in Australia and learned more about the landscape and the song-lines traditions. I am interested in the ways stories are told using symbolism in abstracted, cartographic