Deciphering the code

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. . . symbolically speaking . . .

journal page by Kel © 2010

When assembling collages, I try to put my rational mind under lock and key and intuitively select images that are asking to be on the same page together. Sometimes it produces very strange compositions. And I, the ever-exploring soul, always want to know, "but what does it  mean?"

My currrent practice is to create a page a day in my altered book. That means I simply enter the studio, select a few images which ask to sit together, and a word or phrase that jumps out at the same time. I don't spend a lot of time doing it, but when I'm in the process, I'm totally in that moment. I check 'Miss Rational head' in at the door, and put my big purple and orange 'Mad Hatter headgear' on and dive in to cutting, clipping, ripping and sticking.  Then I stand the book up, so it can dry without sticking pages together, and leave the studio. 

Before, whenever I created intuitive transpersonal art, I always wanted to decipher it straight away. Since starting the altered book, there has been a shift. Now, I'm more willing to just create a page, and let it be . . .  well, for at least a day or so!?! 

When I look back at some of these creations, 'Ms Indiana Jones' (or for those under 30, 'Ms Sophie Neveu') often pipes up; "Hmm, we must decipher the symbology. What clues can we find here to crack the code and find the hidden treasure." 

I really don't like this page. And totally resisted putting that phrase with those images. But it screamed out as if in flashing neon lights. Of course, the more dissonance one feels with the presenting imagery, the closer we are to hitting a home truth. There is treasure here indeed. 

Blessing 6:4

Soulscape

May the landscape of your soul
be like a river

Meandering seaward 
through fertile fields

Dropping silt when needed
on curving corners

Bursting banks at points
of non-containment

Filtering pollutants
through reeds of green

While all the while
steadily moving in the direction
of the great collective

the sea

~ Kel © 2010

Using negative space

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Whose life is on the line?

©2010 by Kel

Compared to the work of other visual journal artists whose pages look full to the brim, busy, and very embellished, my pages are quite sparse. A few images and a word or phrase. At the moment I feel drawn to use negative space as a key element in my artistic compositions.

hmmm . . . how's that for some arty farty speak :-)

Solstice sunrise @ Loghenge

mist shrouded loghenge 
as the crunch of frost underfoot 
signalled the winter solstice 
dawn patrol had begun

I'll let pictures paint the words from here

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Loghenge is our very own solar sculpture we built on this property. See here.

We christened it for the Autumn equinox here.

Altered book journal

Here's a sneak peek into my first altered book. For someone who used to treat books as sacred objects, it's quite a shift. This old book was called "The Greater Hunger" - a title that invites me to explore deeper things.

I so wanna win this!

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There's a cool interactive window thing happening at Meet Me @ Mikes. You send in a decorated envelope containing everyday ephemera (cuttings, clippings, textile bits and bobs, whatever ...), they photograph each incoming batch, and display the envelopes in their shop window. At the end of the project, they draw one decorated envelope from the pile and that lucky person wins the stash. Imagine getting a big box full of interesting, quirky bits and pieces to play with! I'm sharing this with you cos it's a clever idea, but I hope not too many of you enter, cos I wanna win  :-)

The packet of goodies I sent into the MM@M envelope project.

D day

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D canoe is in D water! 
 the patch 'n' paint worked - no leaks, 2nd hand now like new! Paddle-Pop rocks.

The secret angles of sailing

An article of mine just published fits right in with the current nautical theme here. No online links to the printed article, so I'll share it here:

It’s true that opposites attract. While I don’t have a sporting bone in my body, I once spent an entire summer with a boyfriend whose family were into water sports. Sailing, surfing, water-skiing, you name it, they were into it.

Talk about the proverbial fish-out-of water. But I was young and in love. The combination of the two meant I was game to give anything a go.

The boyfriend and his mate were very enthusiastic about taking me out on their catamaran. While I put on a lifejacket, they explained my responsibility on the crew.

They said the aim was to set the sails and move around the boat to make the most of the prevailing wind and gain maximum speed. Apparently it had a lot to do with angles. Wind against sail, people against boat and so on. Since maths is not my strong suit I expressed some concern. “Don’t worry, it’s all about teamwork,” they explained. “But until you learn the ropes, all you have to do is move to where we tell you, when we tell you.”

And off we went across the lake. They would give the command to tack or jibe, and I would shuffle from one side of the trampoline to the other.

“Watch the boom!”

Thwack!

I didn’t duck quickly enough and the boom collected my skull as the sail swung around. Luckily I’m a fast learner, so it only happened once.

After a few trips across the lake and back, I began to get into the rhythm of it. Ducking and weaving, shifting and leaning. Reading the water and wind, and becoming a contributing member of the SS Hobie crew.

Then the wind picked up. Seeing that my confidence had also risen, the boys decided it was time for me to advance to the next level of crew training. They got me into a harness and taught me how to lean out on the trapeze. 

Gingerly edging off the trampoline backwards, I found a firm foothold on the hull, and leaned out above the water. The wind was whipping through my hair, and felt like I was flying. With two of us out on the trapeze, we were able to reef the sail in further and pick up speed as we surfed the swell.

“This is great!” I yelled.

The two boys exchanged a look. “Right. Time to fly a hull.”

Next thing I knew, the hull we were standing on was lifting right up out of the water. We had to change our posture to balance the boat as it lifted 45 degrees out of the water. Now I was really beginning to get the bit about angles. Sailing 101: this was an acute angle.

“Lean back! Lean back!” came the command.

“Yeeha!”

But the angle kept on increasing till it became even more acute.

“Aaagh!”

Then it became a right angle. Which actually felt very wrong.

“Oh no!”

As the angle continued to increase, I realised how obtuse I was.

The boat continued to create angles until my reflex action was to jump.

Then I experienced a different kind of sailing. Through the air, over the tramp, across the sail and into the water.

Raucous laughter greeted me as I spluttered to the surface.  Confirming the hidden angle of sailing lessons.  Their ultimate aim had been to dunk me in the lake.

While dragging me onto the upturned hull, the boyfriend called me a good sport. Believe it or not, that angle must have worked, because the boyfriend became the husband. And dare I say it, we sailed off into the sunset . . .

© 2010

the zen of surfing

this week's extract from one of my brown-bag journals

if you ever want to

surf the crest

of the wave

it's all about 

two things

keeping balance

while maintaining momentum

that, my friends, is

the zen of surfing

~ Kel

© 2010

soft lens self portrait

 life's been hard lately

when you get enough knocks

it's easy to start doubting yourself

wondering if indeed you are the problem

but let me tell you something

when life is grinding you down

what your spirit does not need

is a spotlit self-interrogation scene

what your spirit needs

is permission

to soften

your

gaze

upon

yourself

~ Kel

Canoe for two

Ever since moving here, I've been looking for a classic canoe. They are hard to find. Either they just don't exist anymore (everyone seems to be into kayaks these days) or they are hotly held items. But I hung onto the dream of a canadian-style canoe for our lake-front property. A couple of weeks ago I finally found one!

 





















Mr X's handyman skills have been put to use again. A couple of fibreglass patches and a paint tin later, it's nearly ready to launch. Of course, any good seaworthy vessel must be christened. After throwing around a few ideas, we came up with a name. But rather than stencil-painting it on - as I had imagined - Mr X would have none of that. He got a local signmaker to print some stick-on vinyl letters.

Even though the name we chose suggests man-made power, we've already discussed the option of putting a little electric motor on the back. But then it might have to be registered! Of course, I would insist on getting rego number: CNU42

stay tuned for launch party photos . . .

a little brown-bag journal

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brown-bag journal making has captured my attention

perhaps the rustling brown paper resonates with autumn leaves

and invite a collection of comfort images in preparation for winter

a place to park in velvet comfort

sweet flavours to salivate over

while paying homage to a season of nesting

What would your little book of comfort be like?

Which images, scents, textures, poetry, quotes would you put in it?

And what would be the most comforting part for you - making it, or reading it afterwards?