Working with tools to hand

Hello  

2011 Acrylic on Canvas 45x45cm

Painting from life can be difficult when your model refuses to be still, however in this instance it worked rather well for a few reasons...

Firstly: a 6am start (or earlier) is preferable for longevity of model's mood. This pose lasted almost 20 minutes.

Secondly: main object of model's affection on standby (mother) to call 'hello' and smile gregariously at baby at regular intervals from artist's position.

Thirdly: nudity is preferred as mood-enhancer for all involved, esp subject who spread raw umber loving all over blanket from bottom end.

Baby  

45x45cm Acrylic on Canvas 2011

On a roll, second attempt to refine...not so. In this instance model was much more difficult in terms of holding downward gaze in correct position - despite much alteration and encouragement.

Back in the Saddle

Okay, so after a 6 month baby *hiatus* from anything other than baby, baby, baby I feel I am finally beginning to resurface, gasp for artistic breath and catch a glimpse of the horizon beyond family.


Inspiration occurs regularly as I breastfeed on the couch but the elusive empress of time ducks and weaves her magic in mysterious ways. Some days I am gifted an hour but most days I snatch greedily at  any moment I can squeeze the potential from but then find myself constipated with dread. This brings forth a host of issues in and of itself. With so much time to 'think' and 'plan' and 'dream' of glorious visions of vast uninterrupted swathes of art making, reading, sewing, poetically pondering; how does one begin to decide which baby requires nurturing at that precise moment? (Sorry, I am jumbling my metaphors a bit - subconscious intent to be obscure???).

Standstill. How to use the time snatched most effectively?

Happy Happy Joy Joy, happy happy joy...

 Paula Modersohn-Becker
Self portrait on her sixth wedding day
(1906)

 
Inspiration & Motivation

Remember Ren & Stimpy? In my darkest moments of sitting within my ill-fitting Australian skin I feel perhaps this is the treatment  that could cure me and make me a 'better Australian'. To give a true Aussie twist the treatment would need to include something about a love of endless sport, outdoorsy things, jokey-blokey beer culture and not thinking too deeply or too much about 'stuff'.

Let it be known I am unconditionally happy - inasmuch as one can know the elusive truth of happiness extracted from self-delusion, that is. However, I feel a notion of happiness seems to be a  little confused in mainstream Australian society (note: my 'mainstream' is generally West Australian - hello fundamental flag-waving Australianism) -  in that one is only permitted a sanctioned happiness. Sanctioned happiness is a happiness tested as ideologically sound and governed by our great Aussie values - steeped in the golden amber effervescent glow of a sporting win or a good laugh (outdoors of course, beachy, preferably). This means only saying light and fluffy or funny things, laughing a lot and generally giving the impression of sunshine, rainbows (remember I am female) and footy grand finals.

How Appalling

Unfortunately, I am not by nature ( I recognise the risk in using 'nature' and fully accept the consequences) predisposed to fritter precious moments of conversation away on the surface to make pretty sugar and spice. I am more of a morose and maudlin type who prefers to ponder interesting questions and poke about in the lining of our social fabric. I have discovered these qualities to be distinctly 'unAustralian' and have, on many an occasion, been fortunate enough to have been shown the error of my ways.  Well, try as I might, glass slipper doth not fit this ugly step-sister.

 Hello handbag.    

And so arrives the handbag - the eternal crafting of the feminine form. In painting my self portrait i am doing what the artist has done for centuries - making use of the most available resource to practice with: the self. My self comes with a twist in that I am also chronicling the gestation of another creative work; one that evolves with much less (? I have to ponder that) anguish in the creative process. I don't have any control in the creation of this being. I wonder how much control we should aim to impose upon our own creativity to produce what we desire.

Control

Control is a vice - it gives the illusion of order in amongst the chaos. It is also delusional; ultimate control, carefully managed, can manifest a self-delusional state of being - albeit a vulnerable bubble. Our society encourages us to live in a bubble of self-delusion. We are encouraged to be nice and polite, not to reveal too much or be too honest lest we shatter our carefully controlled and managed egos and submit ourselves to judgement and potentially hazardous manipulation. We look in the mirror plenty but we don't see much past the surface of things.

Controlling the Image
i am struggling to relinquish my artistic sense of control - to pull back the editor for a bit to see what my subconscious can deliver through the cracks of my skills and abilities. Trouble is letting go and revealing. Paula Modersohn Becker produced the image of herself not long before she died following childbirth. much has been made of her image..more on this later...

Fabric Surgery

 Raw (Handbag) Charcoal & acrylic on canvas with velvet lining 40x50x50 (dimensions approx)

I can recommend this treatment for anyone feelingly slightly miffed about their perceived appearance. A quick cut up, stitch up and re-arrange can be very satisfying for all intents and purposes. Plus this ever-useful vessel can now carry material things from the physical realm. See, previously the vessel of the self embodied all manner of strange delusions and abstractions, still a vessel, yes, however a container for all things ephemeral and slippery, enigmatic and elusive. Now she can actually hold things we can see with our eyes, touch with our hands (or other body parts perhaps?..whatever gets your goat) and smell should we be so inclined to do so (not always recommended given the aforementioned possible touching of body parts though). We can now trust what she represents - an ever useful holdall carryall represented in her most valued proportion. She is now silenced into usefulness. At least that is the general idea. Astute observers may notice an opening near the nipple region of the handbag - as yet an unresoved issue for me, one I hope to resolve as I continue. Many options for nipple surgery - but I need to be clear as to what my intention for this is.

 Sick (Pattern Markings) 60x70cm Ink & Acrylic on Canvas     

Sick (Handbag) 40x50x50 (dimensions approx)

Acrylic & Ink on Canvas with Satin Lining and Leather Handles

Again, another makeover - complete with before and after shots. And what a dramatic improvement. Here we have the parts segmented in a much more convenient manner. For example, while sporting the bag - a-la-casual - one may elect to have the gash/slash facing forward (for those days when one does feel emboldened) or gash/slash facing backwards (when we'd prefer to think that life was about more than just our sex). You may have also noticed that the gash/slash is slighly blurred - a modest soft focus 'side-effect' from the surgical manufacturing process. Read: when I sewed the canvas, it rubbed a bit (read what you will into that) and blurred the charcoal leaving the image with a nice sense of renewed modesty not unlike porn images before digital cameras, mass prinitng and enhancement...back in the days when women could let it all hang out - literally.  When labiaplasty was floating free in outerspace with all the other useless spacejunk awaiting it's moment of glory and when bush meant old growth forests and the like (now as endangered as the full map of Tassie).

I have had some technical dilemmas resolving my handbag transformations however. The weight of the paint burdened canvas has created difficulty in it's starchiness and manoeuvreability. While I like the strength and form it gives the bag it is difficult to handle and does not lend itself to a softening effect akin to the flesh that I have been able to replicate with other fabrics. Still, I have discovered the wonders of steam-ironing through teatowel with a later version (will post next).

Notes on the details: The satin lining is gathered slightly and pinched then sewn into the angles of the breasts. The bag is stuffed with polyfil and this combination lends itsel;f to a nice boudoir sensation, all pink and creamy flesh-like. To feel it is cool, smooth, soft and spongy. Unsure as to whether it will bear contents (a stray doll's arm or some such thing) but leaning to the side of none. Nipples were resurrected from a previous bag incarnation and match the handle nicely. I think that's what they mean when the say to 'accessorise'.

All these bags will eventually form a totem pole - pole dancing handbags depicting the power of transformation.

Morning Sickness

Sick (February)' 60x70cm Ink & Acrylic on canvas

Sick: In case you were wondering, this is how it feels in the first trimester of pregnancy. I am inadvertently channelling a slight Brack influence here in my choice of colours for my nude and the obvious malaise or misery. I saw the Brack show last July in Melbourne...It is yet to arrive in WA, so starved are we of inspiration. Observing Brack's nudes I couldn't help but feel he was of a feminist inclination (he and the world just didn't know - it until now - I have enlightened everyone, be thankful) in his treatment of the female form.

 I felt so strongly standing in front of his works in the show at the Potter that he connected with an almost resgined type of melancholy in his subjects as objects of the gaze. Nobody looked delighted (but did anyone in any of his works?) to be portrayed in this way as was typical of the seductress or confrontational stare common to many female nudes. This, coupled with the fact that his nudes were not popular at the time but an expensive side-indulgence he afforded himself when he could, led me to believe there was more content in these than was given due consideration.

I digress. My nude self-portrait shows a vomit-style palette. I had intended to keep painting to finish this work but once I got to this stage I realised I had accomplished my intention of depicting my moment of joy in discovering I was pregnant and feeling like crap. True to my animal instincts I am baring my rear end (obviously to entice my viewer) and revealing the source of my misery. Juxtaposed with my foetal position (vulnerability, innocence etc) the image creates a nice tension beyond the ick of the palette that travels beyond sexy-nude-as-object to confront the viewer with a more realistic impression minus the romance. Some women suffer like this for the whole 40 weeks, poor things.

Raw (January)' 60x70cm Charcoal & Acrylic on canvas

Raw: This was my first self portrait upon discovery of the double line on the stick. As you can see, I wasn't having a very good day. Actually I am quite happy to be pregnant and do the baby thing all over again, the real trauma is the work-life-family balance. I have fought so long and so hard for so long (yes, many 'sos' in that sentence, read between the lines) to scratch out a corner of sanity and selfishness amidst the mother guilt and feminist angst, quite frankly I am quite concerned as to how I can manage to do/be/have what I need to hold onto my hat post birth. This portrait, while not a favourite of mine as it is rather wobbly, depicts the knife edge intensity and excitement/terror of blessed maternity in a very raw and honest way.

Raw (January) Pattern pieces Charcoal & Acrylic on canvas

I couldn't wait to cut this one up. It was my first foray into this series - an instant sketch done in an hour or two to capture a mood, a moment in time. I allowed myself certain liberties I don't usually allow in painting/drawing, and that is a free, unedited hand. I usually like to have a lot more structure and control over my initial sketching and spend time preparing etc. I liberated myself from any expectation of perfection (impossible anyway) knowing that it would be cut up. Ironically I have the photographic evidence here. This work is now a handbag with red velvet lining. Sick is also a handbag with pink satin lining.

Apologies I do not have an image yet, however my previous work Nude shows the dimensions of the pattern nicely: