IN L AND B's UNFINISHED BEDROOM

Lay me down with a gentle hand, 2017, in L and B's unfinished bedroom, July 2018

L bought this artwork for her husband, B, for his 50th birthday.  When I was at her home in Wellington the other day, she talked about how she'd wanted to show me the artwork in the finished room [they're in the middle of renovations] but kindly let me in to their bedroom anyway, and let me take photographs, too. 

Instead of being put off by the lack of "done-ness" in the room, my heart skipped a beat.  It just seems so right that this artwork, talking about being laid down with a gentle hand, is situated above the bed in a room which is a work-in-progress in a marriage which is a work in progress, too.  Because all marriages and relationships and lives are, aren't they?  Works in progress. 

The light falling across the bed, light made more beautiful by the contrasting shadow.  The flowers on the nightshade of what I imagine is "her" side of the bed, because she often wears those flowers in her hair.  The pendant made by hand by their lovely 18 year old art-student daughter. 

This room tells their story.  

Silently, it's walls and objects and, yes the artwork,  speak of the life lived here, and the relationship played out.  And not just the "good and perfect and public" parts either.  

This is what the private rooms in our domestic spaces always do: They tell our story. 

Which is exactly why I love having exhibitions in domestic spaces.  Because that is what I want to do with my work.  Stand up and say, 
I am here, 
this is who I am.  
And I want to say it as fully and deeply as I can.  

[ Thanks, L and B for letting me share this. ] 

BTW, there are other prints left in the edition of 5 this artwork, so yeah you could have this artwork too, for your own private space. FYI.

WHAT IS DEEP WITHIN US IS WRITTEN ALL OVER US

Portrait of L, 2018

I’ve been sitting with the photographs I made of L for a few weeks now. I’ve come to really like this one. The photograph combines her gentle kindness with her fierce strength, and those are the very characteristics I see in her. And I just wanna keep looking into her eyes: I can see her history there.

We all carry our history with us, eh.

In our bodies,

in our faces,

in the stories we tell ourselves.

What is deep within us is written all over us.

That’s why how we present on the outside is in no way skin-deep.

Doodles

Doodle, 8 May 2018

Today has been a very long one. 

Orders to the lab. Answering emails. Making decisions. Making plans for exhibitions.  Making progress on work in progress. Paying bills.  Coffee with a friend. Working out.  Making dinner.  Cleaning the sink.  Not doing the dishes and feeling guilty but deciding writing’s more important than dishes.  That’s how my life rolls.  You know how it is. 

In the middle of this busy busy day, I made some time to do a doodle. 

Do you know how marvellous it felt to have that stick in my hand, and draw that wobbly gold line?  It was freedom. It was making a mark without intent.  For no reason except I wanted to, and if felt good to me.  

Whether or not the doodle becomes the basis for any artwork is irrelevant.  What matters is that I enjoyed it.  Scrap that.  I delighted in making those marks.  Delight is a very special thing to feel. 

Usually delight is left to children.  Us grownups have apparently got more important things to do than explore what delights them.  What a miserable way to live. 

I make time for delight. 

Even if it’s only five minutes.  

That five minutes can carry me through a day otherwise consisting of stress and worry and boredom and making other people happy. 

Let’s hear it for delight. 

And for doodles. 

Doodles rule.

See ya later

It's beautiful here at the edge, 2018 [original] with my workroom in the background.

And so, the original “it’s beautiful here at the edge” has sold. It’s off to Nelson on Monday.

It’s new owner, B, has children and so I worked with my framer to come up with a solution to make it kid-proof and now it has a double frame and kick-ass museum glass. God it looks good.

I told B that if she hadn’t already bought it, I may have kept it for myself… you can see every imperfect mark through the high quality glass and I love it.

Anyways, I’ve spent this arvo saying goodbye to it before I packaged it… I did weird things like take photos of it with me and in various positions. Yep, I am quite fcking odd…

Me and my artwork...

Then I packaged it... including hand-sewing corners onto it to protect the frame… Got all Rapunzel and pricked my finger and while I was sewing thought just how very lucky I am to be living this artist’s life. I actually get to spend time hand-sewing a corner in my favourite red-thread :-).

Check out the blood...

The last photo in this sequence is the end result of the the packaging… and it hasn’t even got the box on it yet! Safe to say this artwork is wrapped fairly well…

I’m going to miss having this artwork around but I’m also so pleased it’s found such good home. Thanks B, for deciding it was right for your family. And you might want to allow yourself a fair bit of time for the unwrapping. LOL.

A new perspective

Something beautiful I found it here, [blackboard], 2015  // lightbox.  

I’ve been doing a helluva lot of thinking lately - thinking about the shape I want to be in now, the shape of my work and life and love. 

You know those times where the possibilities seem endless and you think you could just up and change everything. 

I’ve been frustrated and lonely and wobbly and not feeling strongly my self, and looking everywhere but inside for the solution.  Thinking a new man or a new home or a new studio or a new town might be the solution. 

The last few days  it’s dawned on me that I like my life pretty much as it is here in this beautiful small wee gentle place.  My life is quiet and deeply felt and slowly unfolding at a pace which feels good to me.  I’m grieving and living and loving and laughing.  Sometimes in the dark, sometimes in the light. 

I’m determined to find what’s beautiful in the righthererightnow rather than imagining that perfect life over the rainbow and giving up everything I have built to reach for something that’s not even real.  There is no perfect life.  No greener grass.  You can leave and travel and go somewhere new and have the best new romance, but the thing is you always take your self with you, and all the difficult parts you don’t like eventually show themselves.  Once again. 

Your self is the thing you gotta get square with. 

Forget Everest. Turning and looking inside yourself, prepared to face what you see there, that’s biggest challenge of all.  And where the most wildly freeing change can occur. 

And so, here I am this morning, rearranging my front room, continuing on at my snail’s pace, pushing my work and self forward each and every day.  I didn’t leave town, I didn’t get a big studio or a new home.  Instead I brought an old lightbox I did a few years ago out of storage.  Setup a new table I can draw on, watch the river and the world go by from.  It’s beautiful isn’t it.  And it didn’t cost a cent. 

I’m in exactly the same place but I feel like I’ve moved a thousand miles from the stuckness  I’ve been in for weeks. 

Fuck . Perspective is everything.

http://www.fleurwickes.co.nz/studio-prints-2011-2017/something-beautiful-i-found-it-here-blackboard-2015