Mid-February Friday, feels a little bit of a becalmed space. I am eager for Spring to show its face with some certainty, but not wishing to wish time away. The heavy rain of the last few days has been a dampener in many ways. On a positive note I took a whole bag of stuff to a charity shop and only bought two items home, a 100% cotton jumper to do an upholstery repair and a charming 1930’s tea set to hold my earrings in one definitive area.
Both items were reduced in the sale. The tea set was £5 and the jumper £4. The upholstery job took exactly one woman hour. The earring gathering may take a little longer.
Earring gathering has become essential, we have a toddling grandchild whose eyes and fingers alight on small things in the wrong place with astonishing accuracy.
More than half way through February. Thank goodness, I am not a winter person!
Hard on the heels of yesterday’s blog of favourite photos is the last of my little digital haul. I have no idea if more domestic organising will fill our day so it seems a good idea to get the blog out early. The Peacock lived near Cadiz in Spain he roamed a nursery that was set in a derelict old house and garden that also had a cafe in the old greenhouse area. Seeds from our bread bribed him to pose so beautifully. The wonderful staircase below was also taken somewhere near Cadiz. For some reason, I want to use the word Lacuna to describe the negative space created by the spiral.
I think it is the bone-like quality of stonework.
Taking bone-like as the link this next picture is also from near Cadiz and leads us somewhere.
But in true pondering style not to a particularly related photo. Yesterday I had an existential moment, not of the particularly philosophical sort. More of a David Attenborough moment, even that makes it seem very grand. The reality is much more mundane and happened on the tyre of my car on the way to the charity shop. Like many people I often have mixed emotions when I watch wildlife documentaries. In awe of the camera work and yet slightly concerned for the mental well-being of Camera operators who have to sometimes witness sad events unfold without being able to intervene. Yesterday I was that camera person.
September in my part of the world is Second-hand September. I have had a personal second hand two years. I made a bit if a pledge to buy mostly second hand clothes at the turn of the century. Definately not a New Year/New Century resolution and something I doubted I could stick with, so kept on the down-low until now. New things allowed in my little pledge were underwear and leggings and, of course, gifts. I also had a stock of good clothes from living in London with a plethora of great independent clothes shops in addition to the chains. The reason I’m celebrating Second Hand September is to get my mojo back. For the most part my experiment has worked, maybe one or two bad purchases but nothing too serious and the items were recycled back to a charity shop. Covid, of course, helped, I should probably do a clear out of things I have not worn for a while.
For the most part the project has been easy, I have always loved clothes but been intimidated by clothes shops, especially the overstimulating ones. E-Bay and selected Charity shops are my suppliers of choice and I just research and search for the brands I loved when I had a London salary.
I fell off my second hand wagon a little this summer which is why I am glad to be reminded. When buying new garments this summer I realised that I have become much more observant and know my own style far better than I ever did before, I also have a much better tolerance of shopping as the process no longer bamboozles me into making expensive mistakes. One lovely second hand gift took a trip home on our recent holiday. My friend Kathy gave me a leopard print scarf from her deceased, Canadian, mothers magnificent cache. I wore it in Chicago and Toronto knowing that it was very close to home. Similarly I stood outside Saks 5th Avenue looking at their fall collection of tweed coats, knowing that my own winter coat started out life there so many decades ago that it looks current.
Wednedsday already. September already. How did that happen!
My current art project is exploring the crafting of previous generations of women. The stuff that often ends up in charity shops when people downsize or when families have to clear homes following a bereavement.
Hours and hours of work end up in the fabrics areas of these shops, for sale for tiny amounts of money. For obvious reasons I don’t buy all I see, despite really wanting to assemble all the lovely work of these amazingly skilled women into one place where they can anonymously mingle in a safe place. Maybe the auras of the women creatives could share techniques and admire one anothers skills.
With daily blogging I’ve become a story teller of the mundane. 523 days of weaving words and pictures together. Often with no great story to tell, mundanity has become my unique selling point. My raison d’etre if you prefer.
It is the way I am beginning to create my 2d art.
Anonymity and chance are the two words that I have been keeping in mind since the Pandemic hit the world and started killing so many people.
There are two anonymous women represented in these photographs. The first created a small circular dressing table thingy using fine cotton to crochet and wonderful sewing skills to roll the edge of a damask circle and then attach the crochet and work a spiders web of crochet to create a small but beautiful mistresspiece of crafting.
The second anonymous woman wore costume jewellery, a string of specially coated crystal glass beads.
Chance brought their artifacts together in the same charity shop. By sewing the beads onto the edges of the crochet I am bringing the two unknown women together to create something new. Something useful even. A beaded jug or bowl cover to deter insects.
So far so good I feel. You may disagree. But however am I going to move this into the realm of 2d art! The first stage is probably writing about it…
theoldmortuary.design 