Another workshop at Mistress Axolotl's Imaginary Tattoo Parlour has come and gone.
I love having small, but informal groups. We have really amazing, in-depth conversations about all sorts of important things while we work away drawing and printing, and generally set the world to rights. You can see that some of these guys are really talented artists and chose really suitable designs to translate well into mono-print and tattoo work.
During the workshop, when it was just two of us left, I was making a mono-print using a drawing I did a few weeks ago as a starting point. As I was drawing, I found myself adding bits of text in an automatic way, that were phrases, or words of symbolic meaning that were squirrelled away in my brain chambers, and I got a strange butterfly/adrenaline feeling, and felt this wave of resolution, like some incompatibilities and difficulties that go as far back at six years ago, suddenly settled and put themselves at ease together in my brain. It was mad, I've never felt so emotionally satisfied by making a piece of art before. I didn't plan the print much, and it didn't feel significant when I started it, nor did I intend it to be. But it sort of came out, and finished itself. So that was rad!! It may sound cheesy, but I guess that's how therapeutic art works.
So it's now a finished piece, and one of my favourite. It might not be conceptually sound or a good composition but that aint the point; it did it's job. Happy with that!
But I won't display it here, i'll wait to show it at my exhibition at Free Space Gallery in November.
And now some recent goings on in the world of my inks and pens, threads and needles....
As I don't have a mirror in my studio, nor a phone that takes photos, I have to use my 'Photobooth' on my laptop to see how clothes are coming along when i'm making them. Sometimes they come out hilarious!!!
some ghostly ones with a nice glow, and me looking like a Feudal bruiser in a tight floral dress.
Red Sun Dress: I know this dress is currently white but..... it's under construction. |
Pretty little redhead, southern belle in a red dress, she's got her hair pulled back... looking like a star from the 1980s. |
Studio tidy-up |
Below are photos from the last Fossil Free Southwark meeting. Lamp-lit garden grassroots activism.
My new prison pants. |
What is on the other side of the sparkly frontier |
I wear this t-shirt a hell of a lot! |
And again! This is the t-shirt that Mistress Axolotl wears. |
Enchanting scan from an old copy of National Geographic (e.g back in the good old days when Rupert Murdoch didn't decide to hijack it) |
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As well as becoming obsessed with tattoos and personal spiritual places, i've become obsessed with personal rituals. I've been reading Patti Smith's new book M Train, which isn't out till next month, but Mama's bookshop got an uncorrected proof copy, so i'm reading it. It's fantastic. I've got one chapter left. I love it so much I don't want to finish it, and I want to read the last chapter in a perfect place at the perfect time. I've considered reading it three times but decided against it as the times wasn't right.
The book is a rumination on coffee, travel, grief and dreams.
Patti recounts conversations with a recurring character that she meets with in her dreams, whom she refers to as the Cowpoke. In her waking life she knows she can return to him for clarity or cryptic advice on indecipherable or transitory matters.
I LOVE THIS! Partly because my own imaginary spirit guide is a cowgirl, and partly because I do use these invented characters (Lone Cowgirl, Mistress Axolotl), scenarios and places (my own inventions mostly, but sometimes other peoples' inventions - such as characters from songs or places from films) to exercise my mind and work out problems in my head, and for general fun. It all sounds mad, and my long-suffering boyfriend may feel like he is in a relationship with me, a cowgirl and a tattoo artist, as well as a few characters from rock songs and soap operas, but it's fun!
Anyway.... I was going to talk about personal rituals. Patti goes to the same cafe near her home in New York each morning, sits in the same table, orders the same bread with olive oil and black coffee, and writes, thinks, or ponders. sometimes she writes poetic masterpieces, but much of the time she is in a creative slump, only capable of reading others' works, rather than writing her own. She calls this her 'malaise'. But her ritual allows her to compartmentalise this slumping malaise to a certain portion of the day, and not let it completely overcome her entire day. Her time in the cafe allowed her the human shortcomings that our spiritual beliefs often guilt trip us for. Her ritual became a story to her in itself, and the worlds of other peoples' inventions that she entered whilst sitting at that table were instrumental to her future writing.
I won't give away the story, but she says this of the cafe;
"I reflected on how my mornings at Cafe Ino had not only prolonged but also afforded my malaise with a small amount of grandeur. 'Thank you', I said. 'I have lived in my own book.'"
There's something nice about the idea of not actually completing a personal task or journey; not actually going to the destination you intended nor along the route you designed, maybe because you become stuck, or distracted, or forget why you started. Even if you feel inert, you can still gain great insight from your immobility/creative slump/lack of focus. Like Patti did.
She did go somewhere and experience many things in her slump, just none of it was real life.
I think it's really important to not try and quantify success by only examining your real life achievements and activities. Cerebral activity and day dreaming and imaginary lives are just as important for personal satisfaction and spiritual wellbeing, if not more.
It's also interesting to think about gaining just as much satisfaction by entering others' imagined places as your own, as Patti did when she read Murakami's books, Jean Genet and others.
In her book, Patti also buys a house on the beach which is run-down bungalow which she calls My Alamo. It is the only building in the town to survive Hurricane Sandy, and it is her private retreat. She knows exactly what she will do there, down to every last details, and exactly how it will enrich her life. This is a safe space in truly elemental form.
she considers the bungalow almost too dreamlike to be real;
"I sat in the corner table and dreamed of the bungalow."
And....As above, so below:
And a parting thought; a resolution if you will, that came from my perfect soothing mono-print:
Roll the window down : baby wave goodbye....
Got my hands on the wheel of a getaway car.
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