the very best of friends (vol.6)

If you've been here for even 5 minutes you'll know how much I love to camp.

I have the best camping buddy.

This chick is camper-convivial, camper-confident and camper-kitted-out-for-any-occasion.

She is the one who always has a tin opener, space in her fridge, a spare tarp or the perfect sized water tub to wash your baby.
She's the one with the thing best paired with the other thing, as in:
Us (and by us I mean husband) 'I'm going to bake bread on the coals'
Her, twinkling: 'I've got nastergal jam.'
All of us: Swoon.

She's the one who'll stay up all night giggling hysterically 'round the fire, or ignore you for hours because she can't unstick herself from a book she's devouring. She's the one who'll bring a (fucking heavy, fucking cumbersome) canoe on the trip and then take you on a magical adventure up the river.
She's the one with the torch which always works and the balls to investigate any noise, no matter the hour or the darkness of the night.

She can light a fire in any weather, braai a steak, wrangle a misbehaving gas bottle and tie down a tent in a hurricane.

She's the one who is up for any adventure, has more energy than a pack of puppies, will always take the scenic route, and is dead happy to leave the dishes 'til morning.

We've been friends since high school and I could honestly write a book on the adventures we've had. But camping has always been one of our love languages.

I started this collage for her after our last trip, much earlier this year.

I wanted to convey that perfect moment, which makes every camp worthwhile, and is even better shared with those you adore - the one when you're sitting at the fire, its light glowing on your camp homestead, and all is still. Beyond is dark - many layers of dark on dark. Some of it glowing, some gently reflecting, some harbouring rustles and sounds of life, some holding a silence so complete it roars in your ears. It envelopes you, and settles over your shoulders like an embrace.
The fire crackles, something swoops overhead, a cold breeze niggles the back of your neck, and your buddy says: 'Last cup of tea?'

With you, any time.

new work

On our school run we pass a fence, at the sea, on which we often see a series of seagulls, one on each pole, biding their time and watching the world go by.

'How lovely,' I think every time I pass. 'If I was an artist I'd paint that.'

Last Thursday I thought 'Fuck it, I am an artist.' And came home and started this.

The most frustrating part about collage, and probably the best part for me in terms of personal growth - both in the medium and in life - is that one has to do the background first.
I suck at patience, prep work and foundation laying.

But with this medium I have no choice, and am forced to think, to plan, to wait, to grow.

I did all that this time, and I love how it turned out.

fri(e)da

I'm done with this piece.

I'm so happy with the eye, the hair, the whole face actually. But those damn flowers.
I'm done with them.

I've revisited this piece over and over for months now, I've redone those flowers 3 times, but I think it's time to walk away.
Be happy with what it is or move on (or back to) another project and apply the lessons learned.

Interesting for me is that going into this, I didn't expect the flowers to be the hard part. I was apprehensive of how to do her skin (it is so overwhelmingly smooth and flawless in the photo), her eye took me nearly 3 hours work (and I do love it), but I thought the flowers would be the easy part.

Clearly you stick 'n learn.

here kitty

My completed cat collage. Done working from this photo. (Taken a year ago I see!)

I really should diversify beyond my pets at some point.

I'm enjoying collage so much - especially this kind of project, using cut pieces and putting them together to find the best way to show light and depth - it's like a puzzle of sorts.

I've started a facebook page to keep all my collaging news ... and I'm hard at work on my next piece already, something very different to this.

little sticker

I've got a collage piece in progress which is consuming me ....

... so I couldn't have been happier to hear, on Saturday afternoon, 'Mum, can we collage too?'

Within minutes I'd set them up with boards, magazines, snacks and handed out some basic instructions.

Frieda started off strong, with a great sketch of a cat (just like Mummy's) with Table Mountain in the background, and she cut and stuck up a lovely blue sky, but then her enthusiasm waned and she drifted off.

Stella however started with no sketch, no concept, and worked non-stop, all by herself, to produce this masterpiece ...

Two Happy Girls At Night.

With fireworks, a meringue moon, some inspired grass-work, skillful cutting and a time-saving decision to 'actually colour in the sky black because sticking will take forever'.

I think I'm going to frame it.

artist of the uncool

Last night was The Exhibition opening.

I fear I was desperately uncool.

I waited until most people had left (and my 3rd glass of wine) before asking my brother to take some photos of me and my Lego.

And was completely incapable of not being a total dork.

I fear I gushed, and garbled, and talked too fast. I know I told someone I did 'NGO work for the film industry' - wtf? - and I distinctly remember calling two people by the wrong name.
I laughed too loudly and clearly over-used my eyes.

But WHAT FUN!!!

I'm totally hooked, and wonderfully inspired for my next piece(s). Solo exhibition within a year? Only if someone promises to give me a sedative and ensure I'm far more coolly laconic at the opening!

still not 40!

But to be honest, having moments in which I kind of wish I was ...

I know that sounds ridiculous, but right now, on my 39th birthday, I'm SO fine (and indeed excited) at the thought of my 40's that a part of me wishes that was starting now.
Lord knows how that might change and what kind of crises of aging I could have in the next 364 days ...

This evening one of my older sisters-in-law (I have many) remarked on how in years gone by she'd never find us at home when she phoned to wish me, or if we were there'd be loud voices and shenanigans in the background ...
This birthday is the quietest one I've had in years. And I couldn't be happier.

Takeaways for supper, whiskey cocktails to toast with, husband upstairs putting the girls to bed and then we're catching up with Game of Thrones. There may even be dessert.
Pure bliss.

I got in from Joburg last night, after a fantastic and exhausting few days, tomorrow I'll need to face my inbox in earnest, but today was all about me - and that's how birthdays ought to be right?

I've got a little bit of fun planned though.

My collage tutor is headlining this exhibition opening on Saturday night, and asked me to submit a piece. Yup, an artwork of mine will appear in an exhibition.

My very first.

If I was a bucket list kind of girl, and if I had one of things to do/achieve before I'm 40, then this would've been on it.

Tick.

the illustrated man

I sneaked a photo ...

See what I mean about him being a walking collage himself?

And look how neatly he works! Admittedly I think this was when we were packing up towards the end of class but still ... his work was pretty methodical and controlled throughout, and see how he's dabbing up excess glue with a blotter sheet?
Just across the table my workspace was a hot sticky mess half buried in a cloud of torn and furled paper.

It's not just because he's Brazilian, with a welcoming smile and impossible white teeth, not just because he's a practicing psychologist and a surfer.
It is mostly because he's also an established collage artist with exhibitions in Rio and Venice Beach, and a piece in a fancy gallery in Sydney, that when I bumped into him in the supermarket this afternoon it meant so much when he said, with that ridiculously cute smile, 'I really like your work, you have great style.'

Thank you interesting man I don't think I'll ever meet again, I needed that.

can't.stop.sticking.

This collage thing is addictive.

I started this piece in class last week, brought it home and on Saturday, in a few hours, ripped everything I'd done apart and started again. And practically finished it.

I'm sure - positive - that spending more time over it would have resulted in a better piece. The problem of how to blend the hill the Landy's driving over with the rest of the landscape for example, I'm sure a solution would have come to me had I stepped back for a bit and come to it with a fresh outlook. But I couldn't.
I had to carry on.

I'm quite pleased with my sky though. I loved using tissue paper for texture and fluffiness. I know the fall of the light in the whole piece doesn't always carry through - light and shadow are two elements I still find really intimidating.

I really enjoyed combining collage with montage too. It was fun finding textures and pictures to mix up in interesting ways.

I'm looking forward to getting a critical appraisal in class this week. And some ideas on how to meld it all together better.
This will be my last class for the month (boo hoo), but I hope to do more lessons this year, once the looming craziness abates.

You know that work I was moaning about? The hurry-up-and-wait contracts? They've both sprung to life, it's going to be one hell of a week!

collaaaaage!

One thing I'm learning about myself is how I like to make a grand sweeping statement (e.g 'next week I'll be doing something else other than the fish'), and then renege on it.

I spent all of my second collage class obsessively finishing my fish, and loving it. 

I'm not entirely happy with the tail, but I couldn't keep tinkering with it any longer, and think you get a sense of movement? I love the giant eyeball and the pink punk fin, my fish is a bit of a badass.

I also love that the fin, and the darker red and black curve under it, is Gwen Stefani's ass from Vogue magazine. Ha ha ha. 

Incidentally, fashion magazines have the best colours.

There was a Brazilian guy in class this time, a guy so tattooed it was difficult to focus on his true outline. He kind of blurred with his surroundings, a bit of a collage himself. I'm hoping next week to be able to say this to him, and maybe get a photo.

He is a montage artist, and looking at pictures of his previous work I realised that that is really what I'm more into. Intricately cutting out images and sticking them together in different ways.

The project I'm planning for next week is a bit of a combo of both ...

Loving this class!

sticky fish

There is a fish (in fact two fish) in that bowl, they're just camera shy.

At this first class we all had to sketch the fish, collage the fish. Instantly I was put off. I didn't want to be told what to create, that's not what I'd signed up for. But quickly it became clear that this was the fastest method to teach us the myriad of ways in which collage can be approached, and not having to spend too much time on conceptualising meant we all got right down to tearing and cutting and sticking. Oh the joy!

Apparently many people stick with their fish. Refining and building on this one piece throughout the month of classes. I'm nearly done mine, and thinking ahead to what I'll do next week.
I'm not sure what this says about me, or my method. I know that I need to start in order to get the inspiration flowing, and maybe because I was SO READY for this is was easy to throw myself in. I've also confirmed I'm not that into the torn paper look - I'm more of a scissor sister really.

I was amused by some of the questions the others asked though. Am I allowed to do such and such, or is it okay if I change the colours? The thought of asking permission to be creative never crossed my mind, and when I intricately cut out a long green water plant instead of collaging it in, the woman next to me said, 'That's a good cheat' and I laughed, you can't 'cheat' at art. Can you?

This is as much fun as I thought it would be. Roll on next week!