9 patch part two…

The Exhibition at Stroud is called ‘time:make’. We wanted to talk and explore together the process of making, the time spent, the slow emerging of work – all the richness and depth involved in this. So often we see the finished pieces alone and I always feel this misses out on what is to me the vital sharing of the journey. I do understand and respect that not everyone views it this way, and therein lies hours of debate, but for me a space where I can share and discuss is precious in terms of talking about the issues which my work is about and the process of the making itself if anyone should enjoy that dialogue – and yet looking quietly and alone is equally valued too. So – I thought here on this blog might offer one way forward. For any welcome visitors – ‘time:make’ is soon to open at Lansdown Hall and Gallery Stroud should you choose to visit and meet us there.

The 9 patch is pieced with colours from the kitchen, garden and field. Mixing colour from these was joyful. The onion shells carefully peeled and kept in a brown paper bag for months, then brewed for dye – it matters to me that the beginnings of hot food have another reincarnation as dye colour and then go into my compost. The simple kitchen ingredients as modifiers – such as lemon juice, vinegar or bicarbonate of soda offer endless possibilities of shades and tones which will fascinate me for my lifetime.

There are 3 or 4 pomegranate peels, avocado stones and skins – all kept safe and waiting. I usually work outside for dye work – for preparing, brewing and drying cloth and thread. From the garden and field there are cloth patches of colour made from dye baths of dandelion, golden rod, calendula, alder, nettle, buddleja, and more. There would have been coreopsis if the seedlings had survived a cold wet spell last year, and there will be next year as a jar sits filled with dried flowers. Sometimes I can’t bring myself to pick flowers the insects need and leave them be and just watch. People ask if the colour fades and yes, it well may or may not however careful we are. But so do we fade, become fragile, and I tend to look more closely and regularly at something that may not last and cherish it.

This piece was photographed outside in Spring sunshine with a backdrop of blackthorn blossom and the shadows of the hawthorn and grasses. I wanted the work to blend back into the natural world and me with it – as I do when walking at dusk, drawing whilst walking, or standing as still as I can to record sounds of birds…