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I have to be reminded, by other people who throw my own words back at me.

Jo Farnell Brown, recently, and Bo, constantly.

I have to have faith in the work, move confidently with it, allow it to do its own thing, allow my brain to chug along as I work, and all will be well.

There is often a gap though, between one piece of work and the next, when a bit of panic lodges itself at the back of my throat and asks the question: “what is the next thing then?”

Given a sufficiently complex piece of sewing, and a conscious effort NOT to panic, something always pops up… the next step becomes obvious… no… not obvious… clear. “Obvious” makes my mental, inner Bo whisper “comfort blanket” and I have to guard against that don’t I?

I have these 200 dandelion seeds to work… I have done about 120 now. The meaning and reasons for them have now settled, they are sitting well on the coat and in my head. They have grown in emotional depth since their conception, which is gratifying… and this is what I aim for. This is the thing I need to have faith in.

Happily, as I stitch the remaining seeds, the next piece of work has germinated. It stems from the work done for ONE with Bo last October, stretches from the pieces I had already started to make before the coat intervened.

I don’t know how some artists work in isolation. I couldn’t do it. The developments in my work come directly from the collaborations and conversations with other artists. I might be trying to explain to them my own work. They might be talking to me about theirs when a phrase resonates and sticks with me. All of these nuggets of conversation gather, ferment, put out shoots of growth. I might say it is Rhizomatic, but some of you already know I am allergic to Deleuze, so couldn’t possibly….

I feel compelled to make more and more clothes, children’s clothes, out of nothing. Well no, not exactly nothing, but out of the useless bits that couldn’t become anything if I didn’t use them for this. So far I have the dress I made for ONE, the vest I made during ONE and the pants and shoes I have made subsequently. We think there will be a ONE(2), as both Bo and I have begun a new strand of work since the show. As yet, I don’t know the why, but I can see it in my head, this collection of clothing… familiar shapes, familiar fabrics that relate, are used repeatedly from one garment to the next until they run out. There’s lots of sewing to be done, and during that feat of endurance, the why will turn up. I know it. I feel it in my bones to be an absolute truth.

Bo and I have decided we need to do some real-time, same-space collaboration. The long-term email exchange was great, but want to see how it works when we do it up close and personal. While we did the 2 year MA, we had once-weekly long conversations about all manner of things. Then that stopped abruptly and we had a different sort of communication for a year. We want to push on, a year after that, and see what happens if we do it this way. I’m curious to see how it will work. I don’t think we have exhausted this collaboration yet. I fear/hope we will be collaborators for a long time… the work might not always look that way, but the support of the conversation and influence will be there. We have enough in common to make it feel easy. But enough not in common to make it interesting.


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Myself as template… I started out fitting it, after all, I made it for myself….then bit by bit I push bits over the edge… Stretch out from it or pull back from it… Until I notice I have grown and no longer fit it at all and the shape is unrecognisable… I have become a different person. Sometimes people notice and sometimes they don’t. Sometimes they are happy for the change, sometimes not. Or they insist there has been no real discernible change. Sometimes they don’t notice, and sometimes they don’t care. They carry on using as if you were still the template you used to be. Because that works better for them. This will never work for me. Find a new situation where the new template fits… then push out again!

My haircut as mentioned in a previous post, is the physical manifestation of the changing template. That and my recent penchant for wearing dresses. My hair used to be one of the things that polite people used to describe me to others. What will they use now? Maybe they will be less polite, and just say short, fat and old.

This has been wandering around in my head for quite some time. Marion Michell brought the word template to the front of my brain, where it slotted in nicely, and gave shape to the thoughts. Thank you Marion. Maybe that is why your work always finds a deep point in me, and pokes a sharp stick at it.

www.a-n.co.uk/p/2157883/

(To my readers, THIS is my 300th blog post… so I shall be like the queen and have an official birthday! Thanks for reading my twaddle)


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I feel a little on the edge again…

At a sort of leaping off point. I should read back over some of this blog, because I’m sure I’ve written about this before.

A couple of posts back I wrote of being on the cusp… I’m teetering on the edge now…

Don’t you think there are moments in life, those “straw that broke the camel’s back” moments, where suddenly you just have to do it… whatever “it” is? I’ve had several, where I suddenly realised I should be doing something that I’m not…

One more thing and I’ll push myself over…

I changed my job, I did the MA, I had all my hair cut off. Some people might see the last as a trivial thing, but I had a hell of a lot of hair… it formed a large part of how I saw myself… and I suddenly discovered I was hiding under it. (I looked like one of those sheep that stay out on the moors for three years and don’t get sheared.)

I stand in front of all these possibilities: collaborations, journeys (actual, not the X-Factor variety) exhibitions, a studio, challenges, work that I can’t wait to get my teeth into…

And I think I need to make a leap at all of it, invest some faith in myself for a change. I tell my friend Bo that I don’t think I have faith in God, but faith in people. I think I am a natural collaborator, despite my lack of social skills and occasional insensitivity (at least one of my friends (Helen) has just spat out her tea). I have faith in others: their ability, humour, patience and skill.

I think I will always need someone else to bounce off, argue with, ask for advice, teach me, laugh at and with, who will laugh at me too. Someone with a different view to stop me becoming isolated and inward looking. It is precisely because of my anti-social nature and insensitivity that I need this. How dreadful would I become without the practice?

Don’t get me wrong, I can be fairly sociable, amiable for the most part. But as I get older I have become more selective. Sometimes, I can’t be bothered with people. I like peace, quiet and solitude, space to think properly.

It’s all about balance I suppose. Surround myself with the right people, and then tell them to leave me alone! Ha!


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Two things:

One:

Attended the first Songwriters’ Circle last night.

Much of it went over my head. I have not had the tiniest bit of a musical education. The technical stuff went over my head by a mile. Dan was apologising to the group for being patronising, while I was getting clammy of palm and sweaty round the collar, screaming inside “Run away run away! Too difficult! Don’t understand!” He set homework that might as well be quantum physics to me. But… I shall endeavour to engage with it on my own level, and do my best. I am happy to have the role of village idiot if it exposes me to all the rest of the joy of the evening. All of the others are musicians, of varying levels and experience, some have bands. Some have such prodigious talent it makes me wilt into my seat in envy and admiration. The best bit is, I will get to collaborate with them. (They are probably at this very moment, hoping they don’t pull the short straw to collaborate with me.) I am coming at this from a completely different angle to anyone else. I want to build coherent sound into my work. I want it to be good enough and listenable enough for people to take it away in their heads from my work. I’m after structure, hook, familiarity of sound, connected with a collage of recorded domesticity and comfort… and a small amount of discomfort, snuck in through the back door.

I played the piece Dan had helped me put together for my masters… just to show people what I was aiming for… I don’t really know if people connected with it… they were very polite and supportive. Time will tell I expect.

I had a blast though, listening to all that new music, fresh ideas. It is exhilarating. I will need to concentrate, listen harder, it is proper listening.

For those of you like me who haven’t done this sort of thing, it is like Masters level crit listening… not radio listening, or cd in the car listening. Proper hard careful listening.

Mouth-watering, ear-dancing, brain-tingling stuff!

Two:

It is official.

I am the stupidest, luckiest person in the entire West Midlands.

I was so over-stimulated by the whole musical experience, I left my bag containing: lyric note books, sketchbook, charge leads, camera and yes, MacBook(!!!) in the bloody loo on the way out.

It took me an hour and a half to do the 8 mile journey this morning to get there for when they opened at 9 to get it back, not even knowing if it was still there. I had also left it switched on. Password protection totally useless.

But yes. I have it back.

The relief is thick enough to spread on my toast.


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Well.

Feeling very brave, I sat at the computer, and booked my flights.

A traumatic, stressful, infuriating experience that took about two hours.

But it is done.

I now have paid tickets that will take me from my beloved Birmingham all the way to Buffalo… via Paris… and New York…in both cities I will only see the airports… doesn’t count does it?

It is the furthest I have been on my own, and feels like the hugest adventure. I am exhilarated, terrified, I feel invincible and vulnerable all at once…

I feel it’s like a right of passage. After this, I will REALLY be an artist!

However…

Before I get me there, I have to get the work there.

Why didn’t I draw a nice little thing on some crumpled up tracing paper? Or send that little pair of fabric shoes? Why didn’t I do something with feathers and bubblewrap?

No.

Elena Thomas, bloody idiot, has to have the idea of stitching onto an army greatcoat.

A genuine WW2 army wool greatcoat, that weighs about 14kg without packaging.

This I have to finish working on, and get to America before the end of March.

So… if anyone is going over, and has room in their luggage for such an item, please do let me know. Otherwise it is going to cost me an arm and a leg to ship the sodding thing!

I note with interest this is my 300th post.

300 posts ago, I could not have dreamed or wished such a thing could happen…


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