Penny (Back Valley Seasons) commissioned one of my small niche carvings recently and asked me to do a post with photos showing where I find the objects that go into them.
Many times it's a case of 'the early bird get's the worm' so we set off to weekend markets at the crack of dawn.....
.... to arrive there when stall holders have just set up their wares. Our favourite market is just under an hour's drive away and begins at 6.00am.
Sometimes I find small or unusual pieces on street vendors tables...
.... at scrapyards and junk shops throughout KwaZulu Natal
Vintage furniture dealers out in the country...
Wherever we go we are on the look out for shops that sell old bits and pieces, though it's becoming harder and harder to find the bargains. We live in hope...
Beach gathering is my favourite pastime. Husband goes fishing on three coasts..... North, South and the most beautiful of all, the Wild Coast in the Transkei. When I can I will tag along and we holiday at the Wild Coast at least once a year.
Up at dawn to catch the ferry across the estuary ....
to the other side where I spend the whole day walking....
.... sifting through shells
searching for solitary cowries in sand hollows and pools
Mixed Media Collage by Christian Heinrich. See website here. Layer upon layer .... paint and paper marks and gestures metal and clay textile and thread Layer upon layer .... of thoughts and conversations between artist and medium... medium and medium artist and self
Kristie Severn. (Sewn panels, stitching, acrylic, oil and collage on linen). See website here "My process is one of intuition. This is not to say it is exclusively an impulsive act. But one in which I must trust the tools I have acquired for making art and rely on my gut reactions to guide the process. Lines dance. Scratches reveal. Thick layers hide. Passages of thread, repetitive marks and color interweave like the strips of a quilt." - Kristie Severn
Mend: to make (something broken, worn, torn, or otherwise damaged) whole, sound, or usable by repairing .... Looking at these images I could add .... Mend: to beautify and to create art.
"When the Japanese mend broken objects, they aggrandize the damage by filling the cracks with gold. They believe that when something's suffered damage and has a history it becomes more beautiful." - Billie Mobayed
I love the fact that Lawrence Carroll's canvases are stitched, patched, stapled and mended. Hester van Dapperen also slices through the canvas of her color field paintings and mends them.
"Mutilations of historical works in museums inspired me to cut in planes of color. The knife in cloth gives a tension and requires on-going effort of the painter. Sutures and operations with crooked needle and twine followed. The scars in combination with added paint become an integral part of the canvas. They lead the search for the essence behind the work". - Hester van Dapperen
Lea McComas became involved in the Peace Quilt challenge when she heard about a "call for solidarity of the women of the world to work together to defend and protect women in times of conflict and to empower women to be active agents in the peace process." "My quilt began as a collage of photos collected over a decade of living, working, and traveling overseas. Many of the photos are my own. A friend who has traveled extensively as a medical volunteer contributed others. The photos were printed onto fabric, pieced together with scraps, and quilted in a very traditional manner. The quilt was then torn, cut, burned and shot; literally tearing families apart. Finally, a woman's hands were added to the top using fused applique and shown working to stop the destruction, mend the damage, and repair the vision." - Lea McComas
A poem by Stanley Kunitz fills me with anticipation ..... The Round Light splashes this morning on the shell-pink anemones swaying on their tall stems; down blue-spiked veronica light flowed in rivulets over the humps of the honeybees; this morning I saw light kiss the silk of the roses in their second flowering, my late bloomers flushed with their brandy. A curious gladness shook me. So I have shut the doors of my house, so I have trudged downstairs to my cell, so I am sitting in semi-dark hunched over my desk with nothing for a view to tempt me but a bloated compost heap, steamy old stinkpile, under my window; and I pick my notebook up and I start to read aloud the still-wet words I scribbled on the blotted page: "Light splashed...." I can scarcely wait till tomorrow when a new life begins for me, as it does each day, as it does each day. - Stanley Kunitz
