26/52 'my little black and white book' and 27/52 'tis not always black and white' ....

The two books are simple - no artistic content but are lovely playthings.  Both are small as they are part of the collection which will fit the perspex compartment box I have.  This one, pictured above and below, has a greybeard cover and I have used a zercal bookmaking paper with beautiful tengujo paper which I have printed with engraved plates.  The paper is so soft and delicious but very slippery to sew.

As is often the case, the photographs of objects can become a thing of beauty themselves and sometimes the photographs are way more beautiful than the object one is photographing.

This book is way more graphic than the first and is made up of remnants of etching proofs and rusted and then white ink printed papers.  I have also included some splattered papers and so the whole effect is more sculptural and graphic.

A digital play - just because I can!  The shadow reminds me of a butterfly.

18/52 'counting letters' .....

Some books are all about the content and some are really all about the photographs.  This book falls into the latter category - I had such fun playing with the photos and think many of the images are more satisfactory than the actual book.

This book was begun about four years ago when I was taking part in Fiona Dempster's project 'A Letter a Week' - which meant that participating artists produced two alphabet books each year.  I think I made three and this, the fourth, sat half finished until now.  It gave me great joy to complete this book which was actually the first book or artwork in which I used my father's old letraset.  No one knew this of course as the book had been sitting on my desk alongside many other unfinished bits and pieces.  

There is not much to say about the book other than it was designed to have a slow reveal of the letters.  When the cover is opened you can only see three of the letters - 'a', 'g' and 'z'.  I have always enjoyed making books with this slow reveal.

The dimensions of the book are 420mm x 220mm which makes it the largest of the eighteen books I have made thus far in 2018.  Can't believe eighteen weeks have slipped by already.

15/52 'deep connections' .....

When thinking about the making of this book about connections I was thinking about threads and the Chinese thought that those who are destined to meet are connected by a red thread.  For me though, I feel like deep connections are more like bundles - concepts with more substance and weight.  

I think those bundles are filled with stories or our lives, those things that are most important to us or impact on us, a bundle full of emotions that are revealed over time, often just fragments of tales rather than the whole.  A complex weighty mix that connects two people.

I am sure I could work with greater depth on this subject but once again, time has been short this week and so though a book is made  an idea is created for exploration at a later date.  Maybe.

This book reads in both directions - I drew it in one way, and then when I stuck the ends down into the fold back covers from the accordion below, I embossed my mark on the end page before realising that I had the work upside down.  I actually like it both ways so have embossed my mark on both ends.  Simple solution.

Some books are just fun to play with and to photograph.  This is one of those where shadows and light play powerfully with the negative space.  I decided against sewing the two concertina layers together which means when the book is upright, you can 'read' the back of the page as well.  The background is an engraving print which I often use in this manner - as a layer upon which to build.  The artwork as such was done with French Conte crayon which is deliciously creamy and can be worked from rich darks to translucent.

The soft creamy yellow is from the lighting and not part of my work but it reminds me very much of Rosemary Gascoyne's pallet and is inspiring me to intentionally introduce some of this soft yellow to my work.

12/52 'dark landscape' .....

How wonderful to return to 'the dark side'!  My books of late seem to have taken me much further into the light than I am used to with my work and it felt really good to take hold of some of my darker, more obscure work and turn it into my twelfth book for the year.

There is something very simple and wonderful in making a book with no sewing - a folded book.  I remember learning this simple technique many many years ago in a workshop with Keith Smith and although I use it sparingly, I do like it.  This method is a fun and easy one to make with children.

 The book is 'readable' by turning the pages and looking at each section solely or by opening it out flat and seeing the whole story.  By sheer nature of the intimacy of artists' books, I prefer seeing the small steps, part of the story, the slow reveal - the larger image broken down into small intriguing moments.

Hopefully when you open this particular style of book into its two dimensional version, the fragments coalesce to form a satisfying whole.

11/52 'with crows' .....

We live on a hill

with crows.

Steve calls me the 'mother of crows'

and I love that they call out to me for attention.

I am much happier with crows around the house than with the magpies 

who dominated the house acreage.  Crows seem happy to live with all the other birds

around them and the small birds

the magpies chased away

have come back.

Living high on a hill means we are often looking down on birds soaring high above Palmwoods,

or flying through the tall trees below us.

We have watched crows' nests being built and the young mimicking their parents.

I am pretty sure we have at least three generations of crows here on our bush block.

Of course there are countless other birds too!

This is a small book of etching, aquatint and chine colle worked into concertina format and folding back into a solid cover with a spine of black leather.  I have worked quite a bit on the back of the paper as well and like the way I get glimpses of that work when I am looking through the book.

 I had a little bit of fun with some old wooden type I have sitting on studio shelves.  

 The dry point print I have used as some of my hills looks like birdsong music ...... may be a stretch of the imagination but I can see it!

I find it hard to believe eleven weeks of this year have passed already and I am still ticking away with the 52 book project.  Already the discipline is having the desired affect - making me spend time in the studio, getting my creative juices flowing again providing inspiration for future work.  What I am longing to do after working with all these small books, is some LARGE drawings.  Large, bold, black .....  hmmmm.

what is beneath ....

I have always been fascinated by what lies beneath the surface, what lurks in that dark corner or behind that locked door.  The huge draw to find out what is inside - hidden from view.  I can't remember being like this in my childhood but as a teenager this tendency surfaced and I find that these days this is reflected in much of my work.  The slow reveal, that sense of not knowing or not wanting the viewer to know everything at once.

I received a wonderful comment from Mo Crow in my last posting and asked if she would mind my including it in my next post. It is always wonderful when someone leaves a comment but occasionally that comment comes as a doorway to something else .... in this case not just the discovery of an author whose work I know I will thoroughly enjoy, but also to further reflection on 'the page' and what possibilities it holds.  And there is that absolute envy I have for those that are able to express themselves in such a way - to find the words for those things I simply know in my gut but cannot frame sentences around.

I try to find a way with my imagery.  These photographs are early explorations into three larger works which could be a trilogy but need to each have their own story.  The concept began as works based on 'Elephant Rocks' in Western Australia on the coast between Perth and Albany.  A wonderful discovery of immense boulders and rocks along the coast line, not just at this point but in the vicinity.  Areas which open out and allow bathers to soak up the sun and simmers to enjoy the water.  For me, it was the shape and abundance of forms on this stretch of coast ..... at least that is where this work began.  Again I used some of my engravings to give the background marks, the texture.  By rubbing graphite over the greyed areas I unwittingly found that it revealed the 'writing' hidden beneath.  Because I used thin Japanese papers again, the marks under pressure of the press, embossed into the paper and picked up the graphite as I rubbed it in.  I am not quite certain now where this work will lead - I do know I have used blue .... not brave enough for the bold blue tempting me from the sidelines, but Indigo which worked well with the greys in these works rather than the harsh blacks I have used previously.

and from Margaret Atwood ......

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.

Mo Crow from It's Crow Time was kind enough to send me the whole essay from Margaret Atwood's book.  I immediately bought the book and though not normally a fan of short stories, am absolutely intrigued by hers.  She has been a prolific writer and I would love to read more of her work .... I wonder if there is a particularly good one to start with??

and from Mo,


Here's the whole piece. Margaret Atwood is one of the most brilliant minds on our beautiful planet!
The Page
by Margaret Atwood
from Murder in the Dark Coach House Press 1983

1. The Page waits, pretending to be blank. Is that its appeal, its blankness? What else is this smooth and white, this terrifyingly innocent? A snowfall, a glacier? It's a desert, totally arid, without life. But people venture into such places. Why? To see how much they can endure, how much dry light?

2. I've said the page is white, and it is; white as wedding dresses, rare whales, seagulls, angels, ice & death.Some say like sunlight it contains all colours; others, that it's white because it's hot, it will burn out your optic nerves; that those who stare at the page too long will go blind.

3. The page has no dimensions and no directions. There's no up or down except what you yourself mark, there's no thickness and weight but those you put there, north and south do not exist unless you 're certain of them. The page is without vistas and without sounds, without centres or edges. Because of this you can become lost forever. Have you never seen the look of gratitude, the look of joy, on the faces of those who have managed to return from the page? Despite their faintness, their loss of blood, they fall on their knees, they push their hands into the earth, they clasp the bodies of those they love, or, in a pinch, any bodies they can get, with an urgency unknown to those who have never experienced the full horror of a journey into the page.

4. If you decide to enter the page, take a knife and some matches, and something that will float. Take something you can hold onto, and a prism to split the light and a talisman that works, which should be hung on a chain around your neck; that's for getting back. It doesn't matter what kind of shoes, but your hands should be bare.You should never go into the page with gloves on. Such decisions, needless to say, should not be made lightly.
There are those, of course, who enter the page without deciding, without meaning to. Some of these have charmed lives and no difficulty, but most never make it out a t all. For them the page appears as a well, a lovely pool in which they catch sight of a face, their own but better. These unfortunates do not jump; rather they fall and the page closes over their heads without a sound, without a seam, and is immediately as whole and empty, as glassy, as enticing as before.

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.