The Boys – a mixed media collage recently exhibited at Touchstones, Rochdale. The collage of the words with missing words is from an old learning English book. The other collaged words from an old dictionary.
Embroidery on mixed media. Segment of larger piece.
This little fella, and his rolled up newspaper, can be found “walking along” on the collage I’m currently displaying in the People’s Art Exhibition at Touchstones, Rochdale. I’ll display the whole collage here after the exhibition comes down.
I couldn’t make the “preview”, so I haven’t seen it hung up yet. Last year my work got hung near the “kiddie’s colouring table”. I rather liked that, and I hoped the little ones enjoyed it.
I see that my last blog was five months ago. In the gap there has been a long hot-wet summer and lots of “low-brow” novels that I thoroughly enjoyed.
My, I’m enjoying the early English spring time. So I place my green-hatted lady here, like a child putting a pussy willow branch on the nature table, or a small boy putting a bit of lamb’s wool in his pocket. Is being in the spring time a return to innocence for Salty Pinches one asks oneself?
Looking ahead to a darker part of the year, I’m pleased to mention that Littleborough Arts Festival will take place between 15-22 October this year (a different time of year than usual). So, save the date if you can!
More about that at the end of the summer. For now, I’m taking a blogging break, to sew, to work on my ideas for the arts festival, and just, “to be in England now that Spring is here”.
Work in progress (acrylic on board, painted with a stick and edges of card)
“How does knowledge of place help us to know the Self?” (Gary Snyder, “A Place in Space”, 1995, Counterpoint, “Reinhabitation”, page 189)
My inspiration at the moment is space and how we inhabit it. Who will come into this space? Will it be some sweet ladies (as in the T S Eliot poem), or, will it be some exotic and unfamiliar folk in a familiar space? I’m in no rush to finish it.
As I focus on this background, this exterior space, I find that in my notebook a new line of thought begins, turning inwards, and looking at the observer’s interior place. It is always the new lines that make creating worthwhile, and not the plans and decisions that I begin with. The new line in my notebook feels as powerful, and as surprising, as water forcing its way between rocks.