Studio Notes no. 178

writing in stitch & ink, new drawings & small stories

photo: woman and cat in a summer garden - a new drawing

Hello Everyone,

I hope you are well. Thank you for taking the time to read my latest notes.

This week I am sharing some notes on writing/text is my artwork, shop news, and small stories.

Writing in Stitch and Ink

Over the past few weeks I have been thinking about writing and art, especially poetry and image-making. This has been prompted by my looking back over the past twenty years of creative projects. It has been something of a labyrinthine journey, but one thing that has persisted - though often quietly - is my interest in words.

photo: a poetry heart from 2010

As you may know I came to this journey as a published poet and writer. I had studied for a Masters in creative writing (a whole other essay not for here). Writing did not just leave me, nor did it get pushed to the margins exactly. My writing has evolved alongside my visual work. As you will see from the archive images I am sharing here, I have explored writing in different media over time.

photo: a text-based artwork from 2015 - sometimes the alternate side to a stitched text conveys the tangle of thoughts you want to express. Most of my stitched text works are improvised - meaning I do not write the words beforehand but stitch and write at the same time. This creates a tension of stitch/word that I find fascinating and will want to continue to explore.

Here are some thoughts from my recent notebooks.

Let the poetry in no matter how it might leave you guessing, yearning, laughing

Of all summer’s gifts, it is her shadows that make me giddy

Maybe poetry is too subtle to exist in this divisive world? No, I disagree - it is poetry’s gentle, stark potency that we need more than ever.

photo: pearly queen - a poetry cuff from 2008

If writing is eight-tenths staring out of the window, then perhaps poetry is nine-tenths staring out the window.

Childishly or otherwise, I presume it is possible to see and draw every leaf in a garden, not nothing sees all, except shadow.

I am and should pay ever-more close attention to the things I cannot grasp. And the things I put safely in my pocket, thinking I know them.

Finding twenty or so words in a notebook and putting them on a page in the shape of a poem, is not the same as writing poetry. But it is a way in.

photo: recent sketchbook pages with handwriting and stitched text (painted over). These pages are not pretty, but they help me figure things out, in their own curious ways.

Writing should not be an act of agony. Playfulness is a salve. Perfection can be outsourced to a more serious writer. Give the serious writer a day off. Thread the words. Finding echoes. We do so often repeat ourselves, for want of memory.

photo: sketchbook pages from 2019 - monoprint writing is an interesting process, because yes you have to write in mirror image. This nudges the brain to think ever so slightly differently. Here I have written an improvised text.

photo: a sketchbook from 2008 - writing into wet paint, such an easy but quietly powerful way to write

photo: a tiny book from 2012 - sometimes little snippets of text from books can be used as a way of saying random thoughts

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side note

Over the past few days, I have been rearranging my books so that my poetry collections finally get more shelf room. I am always reading poetry. And there is no harm or shame in simply dipping into any poetry collection, in my opinion. Take a chance on a book of poems today - might be a slogan to embrace - just pick up and randomly select something, but please read.

I posted a video on my personal Instagram (phaedraspoon) yesterday - of me dusting and moving books about. This is my attempt at making an alternate, quiet, honest reel - I loathe frantic, noisy pop music reels (if that makes me sound like an ancient, so be it).

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Shop News

photo: a new drawing - midsummer birds

I am updating my shop today with four new drawings on paper. These are new pencil drawings that I am particularly pleased to share with you. As I have written previously, drawing with pencil is something I am exploring more and more these days.

Shop update today, Sunday 15th June at 7pm UK time - preview now (link to my shop at the end of these notes).

Our Everlasting Dreams - an embroidery portrait - framed and ready to be displayed.

This work was recently on display at Watts Contemporary gallery as part of their Handcrafted exhibition. It is now back with me and I want to offer it in my shop at a special price, for a limited time only. Due to the value of this piece I am offering to a UK buyer only, with free special delivery. I am including this in my shop update today.

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Future shop updates:

There will be no Wednesday update this coming week - so the next update after today’s will be:

Sunday 22nd June - 7pm UK time - a mix of new artwork

Thank you always for your kind support.

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Small Stories

Pantry

Each evening, before bed, I make myself step inside the slanted pantry room. I count to ten and get to around four. No putting the light on. I’ve lived in places with windowless small rooms before now but this is different. I am grateful for the extra space the pantry, leading off from the kitchen, provides, but there’s something about that quiet corner of the house. The stillness, someone else, yet another, hanging up her apron for the night, or propping a broom, or placing boots on a rack. Another whisper lets on that a bit of bread might be stolen, or a nip of drink, long drank. The not-quite-ghosts of the pantry intrigue me. I want to grow my confidence to spend a little more time with them.

Impressed

A small, dainty boy runs up to another child. From their almost nose-touching stares I can tell they don’t know each other, or perhaps they have forgotten they know each other. They are both at that age when people, faces, come and go in a sugary blur. The dainty boy wears a too-big sun hat. This protects the other child from taking him too seriously as he says: I am not impressed with you! I am not impressed! The child takes a step back, nonplussed. This is not the kind of interaction they are used to here, in the green and pleasant park. Not impressed with you! The dainty boy says, stomping off. A headmaster in the making, or just another disgruntled child who might or might not outgrow his disgruntlement?

Elderflowers

Early in the sunny park, with a coffee and nothing to read - quite perfect. I look across to see an elder still has elderflower blossoms. I thought I had missed out. I wander across to see the flowers are sticky with morning damp, radiant. I think they might be a second hurrah of blooms. I stand and hold but not touch, not picking just now, and watch the tiniest insects in their inflorescent world.

A huge dog approaches me. The dog sits at my feet, panting. I look about but cannot see anyone who might claim this beast of a friendly-eyed creature. Hello, I say, wishing I might step away but knowing it best to wait for the dog to move on. Sooner or later someone will claim him. Oh sorry! A woman’s voice shouts across the green. I am approached by a woman with a basket of shopping, topped up with twigs. The dog continues to stare at me. He likes you! The woman says. I feel this may be a first for me. I pat the dog’s hot head. The woman and I talk about elderflowers, how she never picks them, but waits for the berries. I like to wait for the berries, the woman says, it gives me something to look forward to! How grateful I am to hear this today.

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photo: family portrait in a wild garden - a new drawing

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