Invoking the Spirit of Goon

 

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This is probably going to be a bit pick n mix today.

A few things have been going on, and a few things to feed back from too…

I’ve put some work up in the corridor, as Sarah had suggested. I will post a couple of photos, but they won’t be very good for examining the work, as those glorious victorian windows make it impossible, but you’ll get a feel for the space at least. I also have put up a price list, just in case. One red dot sits proudly at the top of the list already, I’m hoping maybe more will follow. Got to be in it to win it and all that jazz.

Talking of all that jazz… not that it’s jazz… but music anyway…

The performance Ian and I did on Friday evening was bloody freezing! I am convinced nobody could really hear us, my sore throat got sorer, and then I was glad that nobody could hear us as they milled about the courtyard! I’ve not got a belt-it-out sort of voice at the best of times. This performance convinced me that unless I’m in a small room, with half a dozen quiet people, I will need amplification in order to get the best from my voice! Living and learning…

Monday night’s one song was a much better performance all round. Before Andy gets big headed, that doesn’t mean he played better than Ian! A sound check, Jack the sound engineer, and a room that worked, with a friendly and supportive audience (mostly the songwriting circle, but it’s good to get out, right?)

*******

so…

If I was a painter, I would never say “oh, Mary uses paint, I can’t possibly use paint, can I?”

So why do I find myself saying similar? You never hear anyone say “Oh paint is so clichéd now isn’t it?”

As a textile artist, I do feel I have to keep an eye on what other people are using, how they are using it, and why.

It would be very easy to slip quietly into the vintage children’s clothes market, do a bit of embroidery and leave it at that.

I did dabble once with some sewing pattern tissue, until I saw a whole load of it stuck to various items at a craft fair and decided I couldn’t possibly. The fact that loads of people seemed to be buying said items only served to put me off more! What is it with artists and money? And snobbery? I’d love to sell work at that rate…. just not that sort of work… See? SNOB!

Which brings me to the dilemma in front of me. I have a collection of old embroidery transfers that were my Mum’s, dating from the mid fifties onwards. I would quite like to use them in some way. I get them out of the bag, fondle them, take some photos, do some drawings, then put them away again. In my grand sort out and studio move, they have surfaced again… I do love them. They evoke the spirit of my mother, and me, sat next to her, with my squeaky sweaty needle, trying to do french knots at the age of about 6. This ceremonial invocation of my mother might be enough. It might serve its purpose, just as that and no more…

image

…but here I am again, with these papers spread about me, unfolding and re-folding as I contemplate how I might use them…

…one day…

(PS. My Mum was know by those who loved her, as Goon)

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