Here I am swimming up stream. The pattern served me well and this time it went totally renaissance. I have some finishing off to do, namely accoutrements and a box for storage. Above is prototypes "Big and Small" huddling together in my reading chair. Small is still in the fix me stage and that has been a few years running. Tonight is tackling design problems of old suit and learning to calm the inner storm. I plan to have a significant presentation to the owner in a month. That may or may not be realistic. What ever I complete will be up for grabs come the winter craft shows. Getting a hold on price points is better and I hope one day to move from hobby to profession. Disappointments seem less that way and taxes are more forgiving. Bottom line is that I need to do the work first so there is a selection to pick from should she approve consignment. Also I'm doing other things besides purses, sacs and totes. Despite that I still get breakthroughs on construction for those. And I'm hoping that spark will continue into the soft form items. Optimistic? Definitely. Remind me to tell you about the doll that got away. I get so possessive of what I make that it is unhealthy. Especially with the ones that get created from the dream or epiphany the hour before. Time to revisit memory. Chat with you later. |
Tentatively it begins:
A detailed record of sins committed up to the 42 year after birth. Some days I find journaling a burden. It is often in the wee hours of the night that I feel compelled to rise, stumble for the light and try to find my journal and hope for a pen. Pencils break after 2 am in this house and tears ensue. The crux of the point is left hanging in my brain and graphite always fends itself away in the corners of darkness. A light hand at those times, I have not. On the contrary for these past few years, I've learned my practice, keeping pen and paper on hand where ever I go. Even if it is the scrap of a wal-mart receipt cowering in the back corner of my wallet. I know now these times when the muse strikes to be more valuable than gold and more desirable than money. I have problems getting started on the computer, so when she brings me something to devour,I am prepared. I've shared with a few of you that I've kept journals since about 1995, if not before that. I have not dated all my books, binders and notes so what I find I read to get the gist and bring back the old to relevance in this world. My artists statement hinges on emotionally processing my life during and before college. Stretching the bound of art therapy before looking for more noble cause to painting other than my selfish research binges took a while. Learning how my statistic proved larger points and scoped grader issues than I could divine at the time has become a religious bent with me. Now I've stumbled over my fascination with Egyptian funerary art from early graduate school. I seem to pick up the vestiges from slides and wonder what diverted me from the curiosity. It was not for the sake of the boy king which every child onthe planet discovers sooner or later. It was for the Book of Coming Forth by Day also known as the Egyptian Book of the Dead. Wisdom literature leading me on searches to understand the underworld and how ever how will my heart be lighter than a feather. This is were it starts and finding Maat's 42 Negative Confessions. My head was so below what heaven could promise that I took each confession to heart and confessed to paper. (Now I'm on the hitch to find the old notes.) The resolve is in returning to it now on the path to Easter and rebitrh. I'm taking my notes from RCIA (Rite of Christian Initiation as an Adult) and reflecting on the 42 and the 10 Commandments. Right now I have no church to receive confession, but this taking apart of my soul and identity may prove an artistic font of life. I've already started and plan on turning it into book form. Where the old testament comes in handy is in the book of Leviticus. Where direction is given in Mosaic Law on how to appease for the sins we commit. I know I am all over the place drawing from separate traditions and believes, but for me it is not just a katharsis I'm searching for, but a progress in the life of my soul. Therefore intellectual and emotional significances are equally as important. After all the research and writing is done, comes the confession. That is contained in the form of an illustrated book. Where he expiation is in a symbolic action of physically drawing the sacrifices, scripting the sins and burning them using sign and symbol. There are a few things I am leaving out for the sake of keeping as much proprietary right over the idea as possible. I'm deciding to take this on slowly. A friend told me it is a hell of a deadline with 42 Confessions and my 42 birthday is coming this summer. Wanted to give you heads up that I'll have something with flesh on it in a few days. I've been struggling with research that spans almost ten years in assorted files. I'm remembering where I was and the spark has stared growing into a fire. Either way I want to lay claim to it, before I invest any time in it. All those quilts, the intermittent collage frenzy, the entries and now this. Not that I do not have a back log of pursuits that need to be followed out to the edge and beyond. This one is not safe. It exposes me. Besides that it the concept and process that matters more than anything. More, but later. I'm taking Sabbath today and tomorrow to give the wrist, elbow and arm rest to return to turning the needle and thread by hand. Ramblings and notes to write up.
As ever stay hungry and curious. But I think a feast may be in mind every now and then just to welcome in Spring . Take your time in joy to feed and reward the soul for the coming of the sun. ~N. |
N.A. JonesVisual Artist; Independent Researcher; Librarian; Cook; Amateur Astronomer; Gardener - the hard way, Writer; Explorer Archives
November 2015
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