Thursday, 31 August 2017
Wednesday, 30 August 2017
prompt 9 - navigating shadow and light
I was reminded during the process of creating this post of Ursula Kolbe’s writing about the creative process - about how wonderful it is to support children to come up with their own solutions to challenges in representation. I have adopted this wholeheartedly in my parenting and my work. Years ago I cried when my oldest daughter instructed her younger sister how to draw fairy’s wings “you do it like this….” After I pulled myself together I defended the younger child’s right to work it out for herself, to find her own solutions to drawing ‘problems’ and discover her own unique expression of winginess.
So why then do I not defend my own right to this process?
Well, I know why - I think I can safely attribute some blame to my high school art teacher. I can also thank her because it somehow seems to have set me on this lifelong path of a desperation to draw. Its also a whole lot more complex than that. Regardless, I frequently tell myself I’ll be able to draw better once I learn how to shade.
So, in navigating shadow and light in this process I worked on quieting the voice of ‘when will you learn how to shade' (yes, she wrote that on one of my drawings) and invited a curious exploration of representing light and shadow - what will my unique resolution to this problem be today? I ignored the desire to already know how and instead I asked myself 'What sense will I make of this orange? ' In the end one thing lead to another and I had fun.
This is why I draw. This is why I parent and work in the way I do. Its about discovery and making sense. Its a navigation - its an active process, not simply a journey.
Tuesday, 29 August 2017
Monday, 28 August 2017
A little bit of heart goes a long way.
Find your window of hope.
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Found it wonderful to do this on the tail of the eclipse.
Inspired I also gave my art therapy group the same prompt.
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Saturday, 19 August 2017
Prompt 8 better late than never!
My earliest creative experiences are a cacophony of sensations and imagery, snippets of memory from a montessori guided childhood.
Held together by the rich, dense, landscape of the early eighties in Brisbane, Queensland. Near the banks of the Brisbane river on the edge of a creek drapped in lantana, our backyard was our playground.
The crackling summer heat, peacocks proudly displaying their beauty, bush turkeys darting from childrens grasping hands.
Painting naked on a big easel, my older brother and my skin coated in splashes of watered down tempura. Photographs a testimont of this time.
Grinding gunpowder out of sand, waging war on imaginary enemies with sticks as guns.
Squeeling with delight as we flee from our neighbours yard, after peeking through her windows yelling WITCH!
Building blocks half my size, making the interior walls of our jungle gyms on the large verandah of our Queenslander.
Montessori playgroup underneath our house, longing to escape upstairs to watch playschool on TV.
Spending hours immersed in the world displayed in the many reproduction prints on our walls - van goghs bedroom, van goghs flowers, bosch, polenysian women in exotic jungles.
Dancing to music on my clock radio.
Weaving memories in my creative being.
Held together by the rich, dense, landscape of the early eighties in Brisbane, Queensland. Near the banks of the Brisbane river on the edge of a creek drapped in lantana, our backyard was our playground.
The crackling summer heat, peacocks proudly displaying their beauty, bush turkeys darting from childrens grasping hands.
Painting naked on a big easel, my older brother and my skin coated in splashes of watered down tempura. Photographs a testimont of this time.
Grinding gunpowder out of sand, waging war on imaginary enemies with sticks as guns.
Squeeling with delight as we flee from our neighbours yard, after peeking through her windows yelling WITCH!
Building blocks half my size, making the interior walls of our jungle gyms on the large verandah of our Queenslander.
Montessori playgroup underneath our house, longing to escape upstairs to watch playschool on TV.
Spending hours immersed in the world displayed in the many reproduction prints on our walls - van goghs bedroom, van goghs flowers, bosch, polenysian women in exotic jungles.
Dancing to music on my clock radio.
Weaving memories in my creative being.
Labels:
childhood,
earliest creative experience,
memories
Friday, 18 August 2017
Thursday, 17 August 2017
Earliest creative experience
I had to take a few days to consider this prompt. I reflected on my childhood memories, my early mornings singing, dancing and playing with my baby girl (each day's earliest creative experience) and my collaborative creative experiences while pregnant and in the weeks following her birth; are these my little girl's earliest creative experiences? What are my earliest creative experiences in collaboration with my mother that I was too little (or unborn) to remember? These reflections have influenced what songs I sing in the early morning now, as I try to recall the words to the first songs that I remember.
Wednesday, 16 August 2017
Colours and angels
My imaginary world
My imaginary world
Tuesday, 15 August 2017
Wednesday, 9 August 2017
Friday, 4 August 2017
Thursday, 3 August 2017
Creating space
This is a reduction of what I created in response to the prompt. When I finished, this piece of it is what I felt resonated with 'creating space'.
Tuesday, 1 August 2017
Creating a safe space in a space
I try to set aside time to create. But it is all about creating space right now so there is little time for reflective art making. It is a theme at work and home. Moving, packing organising reclaimed art materials and setting them up in the shed af work. Packing, organising and waiting to move office at work. Organising, sorting and setting up my studio in the recently renovated space at home. I am preparing, I am creating spaces for the next phase. It is the end of my home time before I go back to work tomorrow so A and go to the studio to create a felt puzzle. It is the last task I have on my to do list for today. Once again I find our collaboration as my chance to be creative. I spend a moment telling myself to offer something else to the blog that has not been made with my child but I silence this voice. The felt picture captures my attention again and again. It sits on the floor of my living room. In the middle it has a sign that says stop. I have stopped, a moment to utilise the space we have created. The box with felt in it that I misplaced for a year. The empty tins on the new shelves with easy to access scissors, pencils and art supplies...my space for my creative space. Holding the intention create in this new space. This is fun. The is play. This is my safe space to be with self and other with creativity.
Our big kid motorbike adventure, by A & Natalya.
Labels:
collaborative,
creating space,
Felt,
safe space
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