Tim Wraight Web Presence

Tim Wraight, sculptor, master boulanger, friend, has finally got around to getting a descent web presence. About time! There will be more pieces added in the near future, so watch that space.

Lloyd Harwood Again

And while we're at it, here's Lloyd Harwood at his Arts Council office again. I already posted a photo of him, but you see, Lloyd is a wonderfully smiley man, and to me, this is the face I adore; plus, that Nightingale green mug (that's what we call that color in Japan) is semi-permanently attached to his right hand while he's in the office, so a photo without it didn't do justice.

I haven't seen him since the last day of my Exhibit(ion) but I'm holding off visiting him because I am weak and I fear I might sign up for another one too soon.

Debriefing with Martin

I went to see Martin Rodgers of Arts Marketing (Nelson Bays Arts Advocacy and Marketing Trust) for a debriefing today, but I can't remember much. I just reported how things went with the Exhibit(ion), what I would do if I were to do another one, and briefly touched on the perception of handwoven textile thing, but just so briefly. And we discussed what I hope to do in 2007. The only thing I remember Martin saying was that I probably should do another Exhibit(ion), solo or group, before too long.

It felt strange talking to Martin about my Exhibit(ion), because I'm so far removed from it now, but I do appreciate any chance for a chin-wag with this busy man.

Jay's Morning Room

This is Jay Farnsworth of Red Art Gallery, my Fairy Godmother, preparing for a painting show opening night starting in 90 minutes, in the tiny kitchen of "The Morning Room" tea room, (working title), in the corner of her gallery.

There have been a fair few galleries I liked in my life, but never as much as this one, and Jay is the first gallery owner I've gotten to know. While I was a student, I loved reading biographies of artists and writers, and was fascinated by their relationship with their agents and publishers. Fascinated, but never really understood, until I got to know Jay. She seems to know what I'm trying to say before I know what I'm thinking; she's sympathetic and empathetic, and has a great sense of humor. And she's a perfectionist and self-confessed control freak. What's not to love!!

I had to go in this morning to swap a sample yarn pack on one cashmere scarf: neither of us noticed that for the last month and a half, a lime-green scarf had yarn samples of brick-red yarns stuck on it.

(JB, Jay was aiming for mid/late March, but the Council told her the lino flooring needs to be installed by someone licensed to install linos in commercial buildings, so there's a five-week wait, but she's still negotiating the timing.)

No Direction is the New Direction

As well as avoiding doing my tax return due next week, I'd been moping, stomping and pacing while pondering the question of my next direction, when, on Friday, I ran into Jay Farnsworth of the Red Art Gallery at Zest Cafe on Bridge Street. I do a lot of thinking as I try to explain things to people, (which is why counseling works for me), but Jay is one who is able to make me understand what I mean or what I'd been thinking art-wise almost instantly. So in the short time we waited for her three Caffè latte to take away, two trim, one regular (possibly the other way around), I see now that I don't want a specific aesthetic direction this year, but that I want to go all over the place learning new skills and weave structures and improving my techniques, so that when I do decide to have a direction or a theme, I will be better-equipped to express them.

It's so simple, unassuming, unpretentious and so satisfying.

Randy Darwall 2006 Review

That is not to say that I will ever do anything less than worship Randall Darwall, his work and his teaching. Besides, he and Brian are such nice guys. But I find colors difficult to work with, and I do get a right, old headache when I think about it. So I'm putting it in the "Too Hard" basket for now. Again.

I finally located a slide show on his web, and I think they are shots from shows in Baltimore, Boston and Washington (DC?) he participated in in 2006, but I'm not sure if all the pieces are by Randy. I wish I could download some of the photos for closer inspection, but I haven't found a way yet, though you could right click on any given photo and print. There's one heck of a magnificent building (in Boston?) and I'm glad they got the shot of the carpet from above; and they saved the best shot to the last for us fans.

There is definitely a high glitter quotient in the US this summer; I'm not sure about that; I don't go out after 7PM nowadays so glitters don't do much for me.

Where to Next?

It's now been 12 days since I closed my Exhibit(ion), and I've been trying to get back to my normal for the last three. And I've been wondering, "Where to next?"

I have lots of goals/items on my To Do lists: I must learn a new twill for my sample exchange; I have three commission pieces on hold; I must weave more small cashmere scarves for Red Gallery. And I have to file my tax return. I am never short of techniques and weave structures I want to learn and/or sample.

But aesthetically, in spite of Randy's workshop and the various experiments I did to weave a "collection" for the Exhibit(ion), I want to return to "my kind" of cloths. I love subtle cloths showing off weave structures and subtle differences in textures. I was cleaning up my photo files this afternoon and fell in love with some of the pieces I wove in late 2004. All in close hues, mostly in "doodle" weft-wise undulating twills. I think these cloths are more elegant than some of the pieces I wove for the Exhibit(ion), and I like them better.

Thank goodness I have several To Do lists; I don't have to choose a direction now.

Maybe I didn't Have a Late Start

Blenheim Weaver Rose took us to the home/studio of Picton damask weaver/textile artist Peg. Peg is not only an accomplished weaver, but an absolutely lovely lady with a great sense of humor; she asked me if I sold anything at the Exhibit(ion), to which I said no; she then whispered, "People are stupid."

Peg is 89, and weaves every day; she started weaving sometime in the the 1970's. So I'm thinking, with a lot of effort, I too can be an accomplished weaver by the time I'm 89, and that's been the best news I heard in a while!

D Day & Thank You

Today was the last day of the Exhibit(ion); I closed at 3PM, took off the shawls, the photos and the blurb sheets, and we came home before 6PM. I am tired and somewhat emotional.

I will miss Lloyd immensely. I will miss the high ceiling and the light, but not the heat. I won't miss the horrible-tasting water.

I'm somewhat baffled that only a year ago I was telling Ben that some day I would like to have a weaving Exhibit(ion) in the front room of Gallery 203, and now, I've done it.

I did not sell a single shawl, and to be honest, I am disappointed. Secretly, I had thought "Gentle" would go. I would have wanted at least one piece to sell, for Arts Council and all the time Lloyd spent advising/coaching me. The Shawl vs. Wraps debate started to bug me as I was dismantling my Exhibit(ion). And that might have been immaterial. Several people have commented that my prices were extremely reasonable or "too cheap; are you getting your cost back at that price?", but of course those who thought I was dreaming didn't comment.

I am tickled to think someone paid me money for my photograph!!

But without wanting to sound like a credit card commercial, it was the many new and renewed friendships that was the greatest reward in the whole project. I chose to stay in my basement in the past few years, and I chose to bury my head in the cones of yarns, but I was reminded that I am blessed with good people around me. That includes all of you visiting my blog and encouraging me and sending me emails and fabulously funny cards.

I received a card from Rita in Dallas on Thursday; in it, she wrote: "I hope you bust out some sweet weaves today!" Let my year of apprentice begin.

Debriefing with Lloyd

Meet Lloyd Harwood, painter, manager of Arts Council Nelson, and mentor extraordinaire; he paused especially for this blog.

Although he thought I had about the average number of people come and look at the Exhibit(ion), we both experienced the strange phenomenon of repeatedly being asked where the Exhibit(ion) is. Lloyd thought this was due to the perception that handwoven shawls are not something shown in an art gallery; in addition, I thought the small number of shawls lead people to think there was a bigger gallery "room" elsewhere.

We agreed this perception was the big stumbling block, (see also the February 12 post), in generating more interests or sale; whereas jewelry and pottery/ceramics have successfully made the transition into what he calls "studio" work, handweaving is still stuck in grandmother's spare room; handwoven cloth is not something one goes to see in an art gallery, but in a souvenir/craft shop. And the cloth themselves are not delicate textiles that can be worn and collected, but functional garments to be worn for a while and then be recycled as a dog blanket.

One of the suggestions he had, if I were to have another Exhibit(ion), was to generate a public discussion (possibly in the arts pages of the newspaper) as to how the art of handweaving in evolving, and following it up with an Exhibit(ion) so as to show what we have claimed. And to give credence to the discussion, he thought I could apply for funding to invite weavers successfully working with new/advanced techniques, and ask them to give floor talks or slide presentation, as well as have their work in the Exhibit(ion).

Brilliant! I don't know the practical steps I need to talk to realize this, but it sounds so exciting I'm seriously thinking about another Exhibit(ion)... in a couple of years.

Post Script: I chose to use the word "shawl", because, to me, it sounds elegant, fine and dressed-up. I was talking to Sue, and she thought the word sounds grandmotherly. What I weave is usually called "wraps" in New Zealand, a word which, to me, sounds more casual and the cloth coarser. I've heard "stole" as well, but to me, this is very grandmotherly, knitted or crocheted. What would you call the large-ish rectangular piece of cloth you could wear in the cold or in the evenings, but is rather fine and you might want to have them in a few different colors?