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Monday, July 21, 2014

Forgotten Worlds

While creating this book, 
I imagined I had stumbled across an old trunk
 in some forgotten room,
- another time & place, perhaps another life..

Inside, I found this book -
it was full of words in black ink -
amidst which lay clippings from a garden,
 sandwiched between the pages.

In my mind's eye,
 I went through & intricately erased everything on the pages, 
yet left all the age, wear & tear in 
it's wonderful mysterious glory
 on the book wherever I could find it.










Friday, July 18, 2014

The Hipster

This pouch is one of my favourite things... I can't say how long I have had it, but I finally decided to fill it with something, rather than stare at it sporadically for another year. I adore it, with all it's distressed weathered appearance, unknown history and silent stories, it widens my eyes, inspires me and fills me with wonder.

Now home to a little journal, I felt these two were meant to be together.








Thursday, July 17, 2014

The Artist

I buried my hands into one of a few boxes of leather in my studio. 

Came up with these two, 
and the whole thing sort of just came together; 
before I knew it, I'd made a book. 

Of course I had prepared paper prior to this, 
which took two days for the tearing,
staining, drying & pressing. 

Some days are like this, time will escape me, 
I'll leave at dusk and wonder what happened to the day.** 

But I carry home the evidence.

**There are also miniatures drying amongst other curious things.

The Artist, get it here.






Thursday, July 10, 2014

Wind, and so on.

So wild it is.

I walked this afternoon, as briskly as I could right into a headwind. 

When I got back, I had no thoughts left.

Vacant. 

Wide eyed.

En route, a cyclist passed me with the same wide eyed look I knew was forming on my face; he'd ridden through puddles, obviously, at an accelerated speed, for his entire front was completely mud-splattered, including his face - wide eyes and all. 

I thought this was absolutely fantastic, and smiled most of the way back. I later saw another cyclist with this same mud splatter all over his back. 

I wondered what I looked like from behind. Perhaps a good round of puddle stomping would have been the recipe. I'll throw that in next time. The wind sure isn't going anywhere.

I created my first batch of tea-stained paper today, it's underway and will be dried tomorrow upon my return. I'd pre-stained a whole pile of paper before moving so I could just get on with working once I'd gotten settled in. I didn't have far to move. Literally only a few meters. But moving, is moving.

Some new work is emerging out of this space, and I'm enjoying the process, finally, carving out a little niche in there, 

daydreaming, 
                listening, 
                                    waiting, 
                                              acting, 
                                                       working, 
                                                                   tinkering, 

                                               pausing, 
                                                                                       reflecting.

There is a moon tonight, it's almost full -

I am waiting, 

Again.


Spring Scriptures

Next post, I'll tell you another story, about this amazing mix of delightful fabrics - hand stitched by the wonderful Dawnwhich I carry with me everywhere full of essentials. 




Saturday, June 14, 2014

Memories

A page from an old journal.

I wasn't making books at this stage,
but I had made some before.

This book has been alot of places...
USA, Australia, France, England, Switzerland & New Zealand.

It's one of my most favourite things.




Friday, June 13, 2014

Moments from my Journal

Morning after the storm..
I'm in the bush,
the smell of earth, mud & piles of damp leaves,
fills my soul.
after the rain,
the river runs loud.

I have thoughts of
billy tea,
with a friend.

Later on, I saw a little girl walking in front of her mother.
She was holding a transparent umbrella covered in coloured flowers
The sun was out, and she twirled it as she walked.
Just far enough ahead, for her to seem like she was by herself.

I could see, from the side
the look of pride and wonder
on her face.

I remembered how that felt.

Early evening at the beach, after again being in the bush,
I was wind swept, and
like sleet,
light rain pricked my face.

As I ran up the stairwell back home,
my cheeks were tickled by leaves.

I smiled and said
thank you.





Monday, June 2, 2014

Through the Keyhole

I always wondered if I could peak into my future, somehow, what would I see? Is it already laid out for me to find? Will I, won't I; where, why, how, and who with?

Henry David Thoreau said, "Let go of the past and go for the future. Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the the life you imagined."

So perhaps, if I were to look into my crystal ball I'd see what I wanted to see, rather than imagine what might be. It is then not about asking questions, but presenting answers, and living as though they are becoming.

I have to agree with Russell Brand, with his words, "People don't realize that the future is just now, but later."

It is bundling up all my energy and compacting it into now. Filling my lungs with the ghosts of yesterday, and breathing  out souls of today. Not depending on what if's.









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