KINTSUGI // Day 15, 9 April 2020

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Woke up this morning feeling like I was all in pieces on the floor, like I was grieving something I couldn't name.

Today's been an excercise in making like Humpty Dumpty and putting myself together again.

I dig kintsugi, the Japanese art where you take pottery that is fractured and broken and repair it, making it stronger and more beautiful than what it was before.

I'm kintsugi-ing the fck out of myself right now.

Kintsugi : This unique method celebrates each artifact’s unique history by emphasizing its fractures and breaks instead of hiding or disguising them. In fact, Kintsugi often makes the repaired piece even more beautiful than the original, revitalizing it with a new look and giving it a second life.

[Kintsugi 2020 is availalbe as a limited edition studioprint]

LET GO // DAY 14

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Been trying so hard to hold on to who I was before. How I did things before. But, in so many ways, “before” no longer matters.

On 24th March, when I heard the announcement that we’d being going to Level 4 lockdown in NZ, I had a very clear sense of there being a most definite “before” and “after” - especially in relation to my work. Not that the work I did before wasn’t “good”, but just that it’s the work I would do from now on that would have much more relevance in this new world of ours.

Much of the struggle of the last two weeks since lockdown began has been an unconscious desire to hold on to what was, because at least I knew what “was” looked like. Thing is, “was” is gone.

It’s always scary to let go of something/someone/your self when you got no new thing/one/self to go to. I wanted to re-imagine/re-think/re-create myself in response to what is so obviously a deeply changed global landscape, but I was scared. So I held on for grim life [a turn of phrase perfectly suited to those days] to how I’d operated before, and couldn’t move forward. Instead I felt in limbo, inside the blue parentheses of 6 April [Day 12].

My friend Johnny said to me on the phone this morning, “all of the past is yours, and of your own making.” He was referring to the old patterns/the old stories we all tell ourselves.

It occurred to me this afternoon that he was completely right, and also that if the past was all of my own making, then ALL OF MY FUTURE IS TOO.

Just gotta let go the old stories to allow room for the new ones to be made.

Hashtag watch this space.

[Let go 2020 is available as a limited edition studioprint]

RETURN TO THE CENTRE // Day 13

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Return to the centre.

At the centre is you.

[Return to the centre, 2020 is available as a limited edition studioprint]

BLUE PARENTHESES // Day 12

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Parentheses: the symbols [ ] that are put around a word, phrase or sentence in a piece of writing to show that what is inside them should be considered as separate from the main part.

Cambridge Dictionary

That’s what this lockdown is.

Parentheses.

There’s a life before, a life after, and right now we’re inside the brackets, existing in a slow limbo.

I know of course the life that came before, it’s trying to re-imagine the shape of my life/work/self after that’s leaving me uncharacteristically sleepless.

[Parentheses 2020 is available as a limited edition studioprint]

RE-IMAGINING // Day 11, 5 April 2020

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It’s been an excellent and fairly lazy Sunday.

Reading. A long and beautiful walk. Excellent food. A couple of hours watching Succession on Netflix.

Always in the background though, behind the day-to-day activity, my mind/heart/gut is working on the very necessary re-imagining of what my life, art, business is going to look like now in this suddenly-changed world of ours.

For me, perhaps more than most, due to the very personal nature of my artwork and the fact I earn 100% of my income from it, that also means a close examination of who I am, of who I want to be going forward, of who I think it is possible to be.

Right now, like all of us on the planet, I have no firm ideas of what the shape of my work/life/self will be in the next few months. However, it’s my job, over the next few weeks, to find out.

I’m approaching the task of this re-imagining of work/life/self exactly like I’ve approached the creation of any exhibition I’ve made in the last thirty years:

Listen with my heart and gut to what I feel is the right direction to go in,

back that up with sound planning,

execute those plans to the very best of my ability,

show the result to the world,

see where the chips land.

Succeed or fail.

Take a breath.

Start the process all over again.

One foot in front of the other.

One step at a time.

I’m not implying for a second this process is easy. Despite the fact I’ve done this for thirty years, it’s still scary as fck. Just because I’ve walked this tightrope for three decades doesn’t make it any less frightening to putting my self on the line, to push myself to my limit in order to explore new territory. Especially now that there’s way more at stake than usual. It’s not only my heart and artistic ego that’s on the line this time. It’s also my economic future.

But you know what, I am most def up for this re-imagining challenge. Like so many artists, I’m good when my back’s against the wall, and the pressure is on to create something out of nothing.

x

[Re-imagining 2020 is available as a limited edition studioprint]

AND SO TO BED // DAY 10, 4 April 2020

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I have always loved my bed.

Sleeping is one of my talents.

99% of the time

I find bed to be a place of great comfort,

healing and deep rest.

Lately I've been enjoying our bed just as much.

To wake up in love is joyful.

Today we got up at 1pm.

Why not? It's Saturday.

Books. Coffee. Discussion. Kisses. Cats.

It was delightful.

And slightly wicked.

Because it was sunshine-y in Wellington

and to be in bed

in Wellington-on-a-good-day

is pretty much a sin.

Of course

being slightly wicked

made the morning in bed

even better.

Finding innocuous ways

to transgress

during a time

of such necessary good behaviour

is vital.

Don't you think?

[And so to bed, 2020 is available as a limited edition studio print]

FOR THIS EVERYDAY LOVING // Day 9, 3 April 2020

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Because when it comes down to it, love is all that matters, eh.

[For this everyday loving, 2020 is available as a limited edition studioprint]

BLOOD TANGLE // DAY 8, 2 APRIL 2020

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This one’s for all of you not doing okay.

Those of you who are not, right now: doing yoga, making exceptional plans for the future, doing brilliant WFH, home-schooling your child with ease and grace, soaking up the lazy hazy days of this slowed-down, sweet lockdown life.

For some of you, life right now will be brutal. Difficult. Very very dark. For some of you, some of the time, you’ll feel like you’re in a blood tangle on the floor, trapped inside the nightmare box of your spiralling-downward thoughts.

I just wanted to say: I see you. I’ve been there. I understand. And I’m sorry.

Find whatever/whoever it is that pulls you out of the darkness, whatever it is that helps you see the flicker of light when you’re down deep in that fcking well, and hold onto it for dear life.,

and this too will pass.

Last night I watched Toy Story 3. It was wonderful and magical. I laughed, I cried, I said Noooooooo when the evil pink bear left Woody and his friends to get fried in the fire even though Woody had just saved his life. I was so happy when they survived and found their new girl to love them. What a great movie. I was in such a lovely mood.

Then I decided to watch an episode of a TV series I’d heard was good. Two thirds of the way into it and two scenes one after the other triggered my PTSD. My lovely mood was all over. I felt panicked, my heart was racing, my thoughts went so fcking black. In nearly an instant I was, boom, back through the years. Back to the days that were the source of so much hurt and fear. Like an idiot, wanting to be staunch in front of my partner, I continued watching. Not. A. Good. Move. By the time the episode ended I was a mess.

PTSD [post-traumatic-stress-disorder] can hit you like that. Out of the blue you can be triggered by one second of something that to everyone else is just business as usual entertainment.

My partner was so lovely with me. He held me while I cried, he assured me I wasn’t the loser I felt myself to be in those moments. He made jokes and brought me back out of the spiral so that I could then read my comforting teen-fiction book until my heart/mind/body calmed down.

I have done so much internal work over the last decade, so that now, 99% of the time, the brutal shadows of the past are gone. I hate the 1%. But I accept that my dark history, and my continued response to it, is part of me. It is what it fcking is.

And BTW, in case you get the wrong end of the stick, the 99% is really great. I am really doing great. I’m deeply in love, I’m healthy, I’m fit, I have great friends and solid supportive loving family. I have a damn interesting son I love to the moon and back. And, of course, I have my work. I am know who I am, I know what my purpose in life is. I’m living on beautiful and solid ground nearly all of the time. Life really is good.

BUT …

this Covid situation is tough. For everyone on the planet. Don’t be fooled by the Instagram hype. Everyone has their moments in the dark right now.

But you, you have it real tough. And I’m sorry.

I SEE YOU.

I’ve been there.

I understand.

You’re not alone.

This too will pass.

[Blood tangle 2020 is available as a limited edition studioprint]

WALKING THE LINE //. DAY 7, 1 APRIL 2020

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A lovely woman, T, messaged me today, thanking me for these wee daily artworks I’m posting, telling me they’re helping her face each day. Each day in which, at the moment, she has “this consuming feeling of sadness” which she feels like is smothering her.

This - edited -was my response:

“…and it’s so natural that you feel overwhelming sadness - there’s so much global collective grief right now. I think the way forward is to walk the line between acknowledging our grief/trauma/emotions, and not getting lost in it.

It's a line I've walked for over a decade while dealing with - and healing from - significant personal trauma. For me, it’s the making of my artwork combined with keeping my body busy, while turning to face my self and my emotions head on, that enables me to work and laugh and love and live this life fully. The way forward is through, not around.

Facing your actual feelings/internal landscape is often a very painful process. When you’re in them, the emotions feel so bloody big, and I’ve felt so far down, that sometimes it’s required what felt like an herculean effort to pull myself up and out and through. I just keep returning to what works - consciously using the tools I have to release the emotions [artwork/excercise] to the other side and feel okay again.

I'm of course completely imperfect at this. Everyday I step on the damn tightrope that this life is, and I just put one foot in front of the other, and keep on going, hoping to get to the other side. Some days I fall. Some days I experience such beautiful joy. Some days, like today, I feel like there is not really an “other side” to get to. Some days I just take being able to walk the line at all as a huge win.

[Walking the line 2020 is available as a limited edition studioprint]

I WANTED TO TELL YOU // Day 6, 31 March 2020

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⁠I woke up heavy and down, despite waking up to my lovely partner.  Forced myself to get up and put on my workout gear.  Went for a walk around the streets.  I began quite tearful, my head full of feeling locked in by the lockdown: fck all this smallness. ⁠

⁠

As my body moved though, climbing stairs and steeps paths, my head began to clear.  I saw cute chickens clucking, gentle flowers swaying, adolescent kereru playing silly buggers, and a particularly gorgeous house putting its shoulders back and showing itself off very well in the sunshine. By the time I got home I felt good enough to smash out a workout which left me feeling sweaty and wonderful.  The day continued well, with yum food for lunch and a lovely woman calling me to discuss some work we're going to do once this rahui is done.  Last but most definitely not least,  I may or may not have participated in some very delicious sunshiney kisses. ⁠

⁠

It was a bloody good day, and I had my arms wide open to receive all the beauty and warmth that came my way. I soaked it all in. I'll take all the happiness I can get right now, because no matter how you look at it, this corner's a tough one.⁠

⁠

I wanted to tell you⁠

love⁠

that⁠

happiness⁠

is found⁠

in the⁠

smallest⁠

of⁠

corners.⁠

++++

[I wanted to tell you, 2020 is available as a limited edition studioprint]