Dear Bullheaded woman, quit wrestling with your gut and get your head out of your arse. When love comes a knockin' there ain't nothing you should do but answer the door!
Fingers are sore, the elbows cry out REST NOW and my latest stencil lies complete and ready to copy. Hallelujah. I have never given birth but in terms of artwork, I gave birth this morning to a beautiful pair of odd ducks! Finally. Nice to see you again weirdoes, this time 'round in large format. I suppose these progress reports are fairly fruitless without a look into the actual process, but until that day when I am finally ready to announce an upcoming exhibition, mysterious they will remain. Thanks for reading about the process anyway, it is very special to me. My mom asked me last night if I made stencils for myself and after a good laugh I didn't really know how to answer her. Kind of. I make them because I am driven to. The physical process of carving away challenges me to work through my tendency to bolt from static projects. This push toward the final product introduces an entirely new art form to work from/ within. One good copy is what I aim for and there are many steps involved in getting there. Steps are good. Fabric sourcing, sizing, ironing and placement are key. The spray and peel is obviously the most rewarding part! Why not put them up in public space? I don't know. Too cumbersome/ fragile. I haven't gotten there yet. Maybe someday when I am bored by canvas or tired of working on the floor. That's all there is to say about that.
JJ is coming for a tail-end-of-summer visit from Montreal and Lisa is on her way home from cherry picking at last. The temperature is rising just in time for their arrival. Change is in the air, as always. Feeling it blow through the windows as I write. Bare arms of summer and one tiny little bun on my head after a long time apart. Feels good to be home, at work at home, welcome home.
Here is an image from breakfast at Connie's Corner cafe the other day. Craig lent me his trusty Nikon FG-20 with a new-to-me 24mm lens. Wide angle perspective, that I like. I used to hate it, but now I see the beauty to all the detail that fits in a single frame. Like magic. Back at Connie's the juke box was pumpin', the portions were huge, the coffee was endless and the bannock was fresh. My kind of place.