Hi, Everyone,

I hope you had a good holiday and New Year.  Already our days are getting that bit longer and some of our early nesting garden birds are very vocal.   The geese on the pond are definitely showing off and getting ready for Spring, although that’s really a while away.  

I’ve had quite an arty few weeks over the festive months, despite being smitten with a virus and a dodgy back.  We also had some snow weeks so life was quiet and I really enjoyed the space, mainly because of my new, warm bedroom studio that I can easily pop into.   

It’s meant I’ve done quite a lot of stitching, but I also managed to get my childrens’ art requests done for Christmas which I was really pleased about.  I can show you one: this was an unusual palette for me which I really enjoyed and I managed to get some line work in it that just really scratched an itch. 

This was a challenge with three canvases to fill. It took a quite some time and a few re-starts but here’s a photo of them in a room app and some close-ups of tasty bits!

It also gave me time to play in my concertina sketchbook and try some marks out.  This particular format is the best one for me to play in.  I find it liberating and it was deeply satisfying when I made a few marks that I really welcomed…at last! 

January is also the month a friend and I have taken to doing a small monthly activity together.  It’s a nice way to engage in what can be a rather inbetweeny month.  We had six words that we shared between us to base some markmaking explorations on, they were ‘collection, scrape, scratch, outside, ghost, stamp’.   And just because, I decided I’d make some beetles with whatever bits of paper and card I had used.  They will probably not exist in a few weeks but I really had fun making them.  As a bonus, if you asked me to draw a beetle, I’d make a much better job of it now – proud owner of this completely redundant new life skill! 

I also had the urge to play at the same time in a small concertina book.  The grey/blues and light olive greens were inspired by the trees outside my window.  They recieve the sun and the combination of their limey green trunks against dark grey skies can be wonderful.  I limited myself to pale olive green, black, white and some Quink ink.  Concertina books allow you the joy of pulling pages over each other to create slightly different panoramas which also offer nice surprises.  

All of the above has been the result of wishing to push further with markmaking.  It’s been something I’ve wanted to shift into and have felt some ongoing frustration around.   The result is that I decided to take a pause.  Without going into it all, I completed a light audit as part of the new year.   As well as listing everything that happened last year, the art I made and other things in life, I used the 7 questions Mel Robbins suggests.  I know a few artists who have found these useful but they are great questions for life in general:

1. What were the high points?
2. What were the low points?
3. What did I learn about myself?
4. What will I stop doing?
5. What will I start doing?
6. What will I continue doing?
7. What will I do today to get started?

It made me appreciate everything that went on last year, what I’ve learned, and to recognise with greater kindness the small steps I have been making that get forgotten.   I’ve also been talking with friends who are seeking their own not dissimilar shifts and finally, I took a lot from a recent Art Juice podcast where Louise and Alice talked about their different approaches to creating a shift in work and auditing.   I’m committed to making some changes to free myself up more and I’ve finally resolved how I want to keep notes (not many tbh) and what to retain physically that’s actually part of my painting process as it is now. Perhaps one of the most helpful suggestions has been to notice even more how something feels in order to stop doing it.  That’s when I’ve found it easy to drop back to my defaults.   There are times when comfort and familiarity are the right and helpful thing for many reasons, but just at this point in time I’m wanting to shift into the uncertain and I have to say, making time to pause and dig a little into what the resistance is and what I want to do about it has been helpful.  I’m now raring to go this year and it feels exciting!   

I’ve finished a couple of projects to make way and my river piece is one.  I will gift you the image of me pulling through over 6m of a 13cm wide fabric sausage to turn the whole thing inside out which you now can’t unsee.  You’re welcome. 😉 Suffice it to say I required a lie down in a darkened room and a medicinal G and T after that.   I had to leave it in solitary confinement for day as I couldn’t talk to it straight away.  It took about 400 pins to ensure it didn’t move when I sewed up the sides, and I had to unpick about a third when I realised that although I’d double-checked it had the correct sides together, it really didn’t.  🤨 And now you know why I don’t do dressmaking.

The story of it is here if you want to know more about the ‘why?’ of it. I was really uncertain about finishing the edges but I’m pleased with the decision. Losing all those lovely raw edges was a bit nail-biting making it rather quilt-like in nature, but on reflection one’s eye flows along the piece better. The contrasting straight edge accentuates the highly fluid fabrics, textures and stitch (all puns intended).

It’s problematic to photograph as a whole and eventually it might be displayed in a completely different way to the photos below but I can’t do much at home.  As best I can, here it is in it’s entirety.  (I will do a reel over on social media at some point if you are over there.)

Of course, the real joy of hand-stitching is the texture and language of stitch which is impossible to see as above so here are a few sections of its different states of flow:

So keep making your mark, arty chums, and enjoy the dance of the journey, that steady rock of risk and retreat.   We may find a shift in a sudden, thrilling insight or the quieter call of unrest; I’ve definitely benefitted from taking a pause, marking/making time for a week or two.   I leave you with this: 

It’s not only moving that creates new starting points. Sometimes all it takes is a subtle shift in perspective, an opening of the mind, an intentional pause and reset, or a new route to start to see new options and new possibilities.

Kristin Armstrong