remote

There are many things that bind us – as people to those around us.  They might be as simple as a smile from a neighbour on a walk down the street or a sunny comment from somebody on a tram.  Even the opportunity to go out of your way to be nice to someone who is obviously having a very bad day can make your whole week seem better.

Not that I’m having a bad time – I’m so NOT.  Everything is dreamy, relaxed and cruisy – well as cruisy as it can be when a new kitchen is about to be installed.  I’ll save that for another day….

One of the things I LOVE to do (which is still very new to me) is to go to craft camp – and immerse myself in the meal-sharing, skill-sharing, laughter and companionship that is guaranteed to come with a sew-fest in the company of lovely ladies with a similar outlook.

I couldn’t go to craft camp last weekend, and I wasn’t alone, so a few of us decided to go to remote craft camp and make something this weekend anyway, which was brilliant, and a really nice to way to expand the boundaries of the physical space that was occupied an hour or so away.   It was also nice to give myself permission to make something in an afternoon without worrying about the other things that should have been done – like painting, clearing out kitchen cupboards and making order in the studio.

I made this, out of linen – which was $4 a metre from Darn Cheap, and a collar which was $6.  Total cost was under $20 and thoroughly relaxing and fun on a very, very hot afternoon.  Bonuses included; no driving required and a man and a cat to cuddle up to overnight.

But I am looking forward to going to the next one….

And as an aside, I have to mention that I saw a story on this on TV last week and thought it was bloody brilliant.  Men need more things like this I think, especially when they finish work and perhaps don’t have so many people to speak to day to day.  It’s a wonderful initiative.  Men’s Shed Australia.  Community, company, inspiration and the opportunity to help.  Magic.

Body building

Parked, 90cm x 90cm, oil on linen.  2012

I’d like to say that the studio is all tidy – with enough space to lay works out, contemplate, breathe freely, invite company and sit and think, but it isn’t.

What it is though – is fertile.

Only so deep, 30cm x 30cm, oil on board, 2012

It’s impossible to predict how a space will affect you – the most well laid out studio, with plenty of light and air and a big fat lock on the door, can prove totally uninspiring.  For some reason, I need distance from loved ones, but to feel connected.  I need a bit of discomfort, a bit of muddle and tinny music (not grand acoustics) to make my soul travel.

We have painted the outside, but not the inside.  Indeed the space is still filled with furniture that we have to get rid of, boxes that need to be sorted, bikes that need a home, and a good fumigation because there’s evidence of spiders galore tucked away.  They are doing their bit I know, but I’m not sure I want a huntsman crawling up my leg when I’m doing some fine work and in the zone.  I would like the spiders gone.

The rushes 1, 2012

30cm x 30cm Oil on board.

The adrenalin is flowing.  I have weeks to prepare for the show at 775, and ideas bumping around my head day and night.  I’m getting out there as much as I can and enjoying the heady fumes, fresh air and stairs up to the house for a cool drink of water.

The rushes 2, 2012

90cm x 90cm, oil on linen

For some bizarre reason, there is a muse in the mess.  A vein of inspiration and the freedom to make and leave it set up for the next session.  A freedom I haven’t had for a few years now.  I finally have that feeling back that I need to paint.  Not should, or might enjoy it – NEED.  Powerfully need.   So loving that!

And the secondary theme that works for me for this body of work – a push over to more abstractive works.  There will be a balance between literal and abstraction, with a lot of patterning and more vibrant colours.  I’m thinking they will be hung side by side as a kind of window into each other.

I think it works.  Hope you do too.

Shout it out.

We got married!

Last Saturday; we dressed up, threw some flowers together, scoffed breakfast, piled into the car, drove into the city and pronounced our commitment to each other in front of the kids, our lovely photographer and a construction worker off the street who was kind enough to be our witness.

It was FABULOUS!

We didn’t want any nerves, anxiety about other people’s expectations,  worrying about everything going smoothly, or public declarations – followed by hours of congratulations and food that you can’t quite get to for chatting to loved ones and dear friends.  Or speeches.  We didn’t want the emotional exhaustion that follows and can take the shine off what it’s all about.

*A cake with a story

We wanted to quietly escape as a family, and bind ourselves thoroughly in a quiet, meaningful and funny ceremony that would be special for the kids as well as us, and leave us to go forth into our lives freely from there.

We got married in a ceremony that was minutes long, with Fabienne Delsol in the background.  We mixed up our vows.  We did the wrong things with the rings.  We laughed and exchanged funny glances with the kids – who were grinning harder than I have ever seen them.  It was better than Christmas, or birthdays, or anything.

Afterwards we went out for brunch at the cafe we always go to – and kept our secret, and went out for a quiet dinner – just my husband and me for french food.

It was perfect – and funny and uplifting.  Just like our relationship, and it has been quite overwhelming to see how happy people have been for us.  A lovely way to go forward together!

I have to say, from the bottom of my heart – I am so lucky to have met (and married) this man.  He is deeply caring, sensitive and so creative.  He is so smart.  So funny, and has such integrity.  He is absolutely my soulmate.  He is absolutely my best friend and is the most amazing parent – endlessly entertaining, insightful and committed with every fibre of his body.  He is a rock.   He’s also pretty handsome, can undo a stuck jar with ease and reach high things without a ladder.  He smells nice.  And, he makes me feel like I’m pretty fabulous on a daily basis.  I am impossibly happy and am steadily building up wrinkles from smiling so much.  I never thought I could ever be so happy.

Enough sugar for you?  Happy Valentines day my love – you are pure sunshine. xx

___________

* We were having our floor sanded – and the day that most of the work was going to need to happen was on Saturday – our wedding day.  I’m sure my face fell when the lovely sander told me that, and I confessed – that I’d told nobody, but we were secretly running off to elope on that day.  He joked that his wife was a cake-maker and they’d make us a cake.  And she did!  I think it’s the best cake I’ve ever tasted – Bailey’s soaked chocolate cake with a Lindt chocolate ganache – given with extraordinary kindness and being thoroughly enjoyed.  Thank you so much Lisa, Clint and family. 

the secret to happiness

The secret to happiness is, I suspect, just learning to roll with it – whatever it is.

Our crop of tomatoes has been seriously underwhelming.  But when they come – these little ones – they are the sweetest treasure – savoured, not gobbled and the sweeter for their rarity.  Makes you look at them in a whole different light.

We have an arid spot down the side of the house – dry and hot.  I planted Thyme – which we cook with a lot, and it’s doing sensationally well.

An ebay purchase – in anticipation of moving in and enjoying dinners under the shady tree.  I don’t think we’ve managed a full meal out there yet – but it gives us pleasure just looking at it.

A Gingko tree – planted a few weeks ago and having trouble settling in.  Perhaps I’ve planted it too out in the open?  I’m feeding it like crazy.  I think it’s going to get there  It’s lovely helping it and seeing some recovery going on.  When it gets big, the sense of achievement will be triple-fold I’m sure.

The studio – still waiting for finishing touches and to be emptied – but I’ve done some brush wielding in there and I know it’s going to be sensational. 

And the floor.

Trying to see the happy in this floor……

The extension to our house which comprises an open-plan kitchen and family room was covered with ironbark ‘floating’ flooring. Only it wasn’t floating.  And when we tried to take some of it up it shattered and splintered – holding fast to the adhesive that gripped it tight.  There are secret nails.  There is a giant mess in one section.

There will be an expert coming today to tackle the job.  And we had planned he would take it all up – the entire thing, but after a discussion with a neighbour who has helped on most of the work in our house, it seems that there is at least half of the floor – and probably some patching that would be structure-board (a type of very strong flooring chipboard), which will be in large flat patches, and not be consistent.  Sigh.  There may even be holes…. Crikey.

So we think we’ll be getting our floor man to take up the front half of the house – to make it all beautiful.  And ask him to sand the back ready for painting, and paint it all a uniform white. Which will be Ok I suppose – not the original plan, but then the best houses are slightly kooky in some way or other right?  Wabi Sabi.  Right?

Wabi Sabi is the way to happy.  It is.  I really think it is – the patina, the act of rolling with whatever comes, making it good, or finding the happy in the chip and it’s repair.

And on we roll……