Don't you love those serendipitous moments in the studio ...
I had printed some of my engravings on much thinner paper than I usually do, gozo or goyu, and was planning to work into the front side in greys and ochres. I turned over the paper and saw such beautiful soft and delicious marks on the backsides I decided to work with those instead. You can see the end point further down in the photographs. So, though I have not yet been brave with blue, I have at least softened down my palette for some work and am quite excited to see where this softness leads me. I have not given up on the bright blue either ... just finding my courage. Think I may have left it in my suitcase.
lovely softness on the backside |
this was going to be my starting point until I turned over the paper .... |
can't imagine getting this softness and these marks any other way |
Two of the completed images using the backside of my work as the starting point.
And these photos below represent great excitement. A couple of years ago in Paris I walked miles to find a shop that sold such gorgeous letters and then baulked at the price of them - coming home empty handed. I was so sad that I had not snapped them up and brought some home. Last week I was in Sydney to visit a very special and unwell friend, and other well and special friends too I might add, and I found this selection in a shop in Balmain. This time there was not hesitation and the lovely fellow in the shop was kind enough to pour two huge bowls of letters all over the floor in order for me to choose.
Just love the prints and their subtle tones - I'm so happy that you got a second chance of the letters.
ReplyDeleteI bought two trays ( not full ) of wooden letters like yours at a street market some years ago - I carried them home with a huge smile on my face and I see them everyday. I love them and to think that millions of trays of them were burnt on huge bonfires.
Love to you. xxx
Glad you love those soft colours too and I am totally envious of your two trays of letters - even if they weren't full. And yes, I could cry my heart raw when I think of the burning of letters (letterpress and others), arts, books, libraries that are ransacked ...... aaahhhh. Hurting at the thought.
DeleteWhat a glorious selection of letterpress! Can't imagine the shop owner emptying bowls of them onto the floor - a bit of sacrilege, you know. Still, you must have felt like a kid in a candy shop being given free rein. What a great vision!
ReplyDeleteThe blue will come. Perhaps it's one small, almost unnoticeable mark to begin. Or perhaps you need to do as I do at times...keep repeating No Fear, Just Do It, No Fear, Just Do It, No Fear...and, well, just do it. Let the blue guide you.
As for the backs of you prints, what is it about the intended back sides that allows them to be much more interesting than the intended front sides? Pam and I find that with our work too. Like you, we usually change our perception of the "front" side. Once again, your work is stunning.
I am totally intrigued to read that you and Pam have found backsides to be the most beautiful. Not all the time of course, but when the paper is soft enough to print through, there is that choice. Still have that blue to face .... will do so tomorrow I think. x
DeleteThose marks are beyond beautiful. What a lucky find in Balmain...I'm drooling.
ReplyDeleteYep - feeling pretty lucky and fortunate all round at the moment. Glad you like those soft backsides ...
DeleteYour two new pieces are absolutely gorgeous.
ReplyDeleteAnd what a lucky find in those letters.
Many thanks Lynn. So nice to take a wander away from my normal palette.
Deletewhenever I consider the back of a work these wonderful words from Margaret Atwood come to mind;
ReplyDelete"5. The question about the page is; what is beneath it? It seems to have two dimensions, you can pick it up and turn it over and the back is the same as the front. Nothing , you say, disappointed.
But you're looking in the wrong place, you were looking on the back instead of beneath. Beneath the page is another story. Beneath the page is everything that has ever happened, most of which you would rather not hear about.
The page is not a pool but a skin, a skin is there to hold in and it can feel you touching it. Did you really think it would just lie there and do nothing?
Touch the page at your peril: it is you who are blank and innocent, not the page. Nevertheless you want to know, nothing will stop you. You touch the page, it's as if you've drawn a knife across it, the page has been hurt now, a sinuous wound opens up, a thin incision. Darkness wells through."
excerpt from "The Page" in "Murder in the Dark" Coach House Press 1983
here's a link
http://www.bluecatheaven.com.au/Books%20Cards/thewishbook.html
Gobsmacked at this amazing quote Mo, and for your sharing of it with me. Would you mind if I actually include it in my post??? With credit to you of course. There is just so much to think about in what she is saying and yet part of me has already experienced what she speaks of and knows it in my heart already. Can't thank you enough. x
DeleteHi SB - delicious images and delicious type - looks like our households can lay claim to a fair proportion of this beautiful wooden type. Go well. B
ReplyDeleteThere is simply something so perfect about wooden type ..... maybe it is the endless possibilities for words and thoughts. Who knows. But like fiona, I am drawn to them. I have no idea if I will actually use them but I hope so.
Deleteso COOL!
ReplyDeleteThanks Sue. New thoughts opening up with this palette.
DeleteSuch wonderful discoveries, between the "backsides" and the bowlfuls (!!) of letters - both delicious! How exciting that the engravings translated so beautifully to the back of the paper...just one more example of the rich gifts of the creative process...
ReplyDeleteThanks Lisa. Mo actually sent me that beautiful quote from Margaret Atwood, and the the whole essay about The Page. I am going to use it for my next post and think you will really enjoy all MA has to say about the possibilities on a page.
Deletewowza!
ReplyDeletesmiling - thanks Velma!
ReplyDelete