Short...unsure...but still....

it's one of those tidy up posts, to brush up all the bits and bobs that occur when you believe you've wasted a week on nothing substantial. Well I'm going to throw that metaphor into confusion by telling myself - 'Rubbish' I have actually achieved rather a lot. Photo shoot with Charlie, goosebumps and all! pictures surreal, a very real statement. Countless emails (and repeats of emails) to people regarding promotion. Sue Farmer from Redruth Community Radio was on my list this week, an email went today. Her show 'The Written Word', Friday's 3.30 - 4.30 pm, is perfect for a plug in the right direction. I really want to talk about how much Kim has supported this exhibition. The descriptive pieces for each sculpture makes sense, not an easy task,both sets of surveys are drafted and proofs checked by both venues.
On a more reflective note, time for contemplation is short, and I'm unsure: is my work deep enough or consistently surface styled (that's a definite no, minimalism I can't do, but would you make a cup of tea without the leaves in the bag...?).The ideas are solid and the poetry is by far the best I've given to my friend and foe 'word'. I have to remember that this is not art alone in just the visual sense. I want each piece to be enough to hold the attention, the novel can lead the reader like a symphony...is the poem the poor overture?
I have never attempted an epic piece of poetry, it is better when I separate my poetry from my short stories, the endings fall and settle as they should. Whereas my poems rise, fall, rest and rise again like breathing, it is a process which is the same every time. The end can come if it needs to or it can pause infinitely, the subject getting tired of my observation. Every theme has a character of its own; I would say its almost like interviewing the subject whilst the object appears busy but aware. Odd, but imagination must be, should be? All I have to do is try and hold on to the ropes of technicalities, form, movement etc... moulding my creations like Ovid's Prometheus, 'From such rude principles our form began' but it is not man that is revealed in my words, but there once was a toad.......

Opening night, late nights, shells and hairspray.......

I've used half a large can already, hairspray that is, and still my charcoal smudges. I wait upon further ideas fellow artists out there....
I gave a tub full of beautiful shells a bath a couple of nights ago; when they are dry I will begin to burrow through the layers of calcium carbonate to find another poem.

Last Tuesday evening (12th Feb) I attended the preview evening of 'Lightlines' to witness the two screens of photographs and poems parallelled to show and speak to the visitors.

Tom said: "We haven't asked photographers to illustrate poems or poets to respond to photographs. Instead, we all gathered at Trebah on a single day in late November, and particular areas of the garden were assigned to poets and photographers. The results are stunning: a version of Cornwall's most beautiful garden transformed through the photographers' visions and the poets' imaginations. One of the best things about teaching and studying at Falmouth is the opportunity to develop collaborations between different creative disciplines, and this is a great example."

Tom Scott had compiled all our poems into a A4 booklet - I'm still slightly overwhelmed and remained a quiet observer on the night being surrounded by experienced published poets. Ros was on one side (beautiful flowers and now fully bloomed, thank you fab friend), my husband on the other; so apart from winching at my audio attempts I was bursting with pride. It was very sad to hear about Rodger, I will remember him, eyes closed and intently listening to the poems read out that day.

 

Pondering over my presentation to the first years, I started to wonder how my brain was functioning with the constant hopping from academic study to writing creatively. Is it artistic to compose a qualitative survey? As another evening slipped on into the darkest recesses of the night I doubted that any poetry would ever come out of my curdled mind again after this endeavour; then I delved around, my curiosity wandering through a lecture on music, a book on a 'Wider Sky' and a diary entry or two from dearest Woolf and the wisps of words began again.

 

Six pieces done, my back to expose and a bowl of soil to set with PVA.... What wild ecstasy....

Presentation Day.....

Hello everyone in Room 140....

I'll begin with my first epiphany.....

The Landscape Conference......

CMR writing workshop at Redruth.....

The introduction of two artists and what was revealed to me in their work......

Connecting all the dots.....

The final picture in the shape of an exhibition.....

End result: two exhibitions, a Blog, and a mountain to climb.....

Gallery, Radio and Galant Comrades.....

My visit to the 'Old Press Gallery' on Friday really brought it home to me what it was I was undertaking, it's been along time since I've put on a show and that was roughly four years ago. All I needed was a strong cuppa and a couple of brilliantly talented artists to remind me to remind myself who I was as a creative individual - no rules. So this is the fun bit, paint stroking, canvas slashing and poetry planting, but it is also the business part too. No marketing = no audience, so this is being addressed starting with yesterday evening, whilst being interviewed on St Austell Bay radio by the calm and friendly Shelia V, I introduced my exhibition. Thankfully this added a nice contrast to just talking about song lyrics, harmonies and gigs and Shelia with great enthusiasm has offered to support the exhibition - especially the two weeks prior with a 'shout out' every day. Wonderful - and I must add a thank you to all of the supportive people I'm meeting and becoming friends with, without them it would be a poor do!



Upstairs Gallery 2

Upstairs Gallery 1

 





Upstairs Gallery 3

Upstairs Gallery 4








No Songs just Speak.....

 

 

As promised a unique inside look at the audio recording process of the poet - but it was just too early, croaky voice drowning in coffee and not internally either. Yes straight from a seventies sitcom I'd poured half a cup of garage latte down myself, just after parking in the wrong place! In contrast Tom Scott was as calm and professional as ever, and read his poem out in dark ominous tones - then I went in and shattered all allusions of poetic atmos with a Robin Red-Breast poem spouted from the lips of a broadly based Northern Lass. The dialect was a little diluted unlike the coffee as by now I felt a little queasy as well as soggy. Bloomin professional me, never said a word beyond poetry and polite thank yous. In all seriousness it was harder than recording a song, the breathing is oddly irregular but I really, really enjoyed bringing my poems to life and thanks to Tom's patient guidance they felt good to read aloud. It all begins on the 12th February at Trebah Gardens....



Is it really......

January already! And a good two weeks into it at that, so a quick update on production and plans. Last Sunday as the sun was shining I foraged at Cardinham Woods for a certain something for one of my exhibition pieces, and came out with an item larger and heavier, and certainly not the material I'd gone in search of...more revealed at a later date.

The very same day I received a phone call from a local tree surgeon who had been scouting around locally for some large natural peels of bark. With all the rain over winter the ground bark was rotten sponge and falling apart, fortunately the lovely Richard had some astoundingly large milled pieces of pine back at base. Originally drying out in storage for inspiring coffee tables I took a massive slab away and sanded it down that night.
Wednesday I lumbered the huge slice of trunk into the white building at Truro college and started work straight away....wood is endlessly inspiring.
With two other pieces finished, I'm gradually calming the storm with steady graft and trying somehow to fit in final poem drafts for Trebah Gardens - one down, one to go..a scene of natural phenomena in blank verse compared to the finished ode to a cheeky Robin - an extra post on this next week and hopefully a live slot of my good self wheedling a soldering iron...





Hello from The Old Press Gallery, we cant wait to get your work in our gallery....check out www.theoldpress.co.uk

The 'White Building' Studio

 

This is the studio I will be busying in from January 2013. Martin Page, head of art & design at Truro College kindly offered me this space to mould, hammer, gouge and burn my words into an array of mediums for my exhibition.

Live footage will be available of me at work as the winter weeks turn into spring.

The vents that will take away the smoke!

 

 

 

 Car parks and distance landscapes...

 

 

 For more intricate application....