Becky Patterson’s monochromatic botanical prints caught my eye this week. They’re simple and bold, and in the case of her line drawings, brimming with childlike freedom. The only way most of us could draw something like Poppy Seed Head is if we let our opposite hand lead the way. It’s beautiful. As are these lino prints, hand-painted on rag paper.
“Keep two pieces of paper in your pocket at all times. On one, ‘I am a speck of dust,’ and on the other, ‘the world was created for me.'” Rabbi Simcha Bunim of Peshischa.
“Blue color is everlastingly appointed by the deity to be a source of delight,” said the British art critic, John Ruskin. It’s why the Chinese painted their porcelain with cobalt oxide, why the Peruvians used indigo for dying textiles, and why Yves Klein dedicated his creative life to the pursuit of the perfect blue. There is no colour as universally adored as blue. “Blue has no dimensions. It is beyond dimensions,” said Klein. It is the sky, it is the sea. It is this beautiful piece of sea glass.
Wonky shapes, rough edges, smudged glazes –– I love to see all three in ceramics. Unless they’re my own. We’re so much less accepting of such things in our own work. Which is why I am so full of admiration when I see them in someone else’s. Around the smudge is acceptance. Beyond the rough edge is freedom. That’s what I see as much as the vessel itself. Brenda Holzke‘s work is wonky and crude and raw, and I love it. “My goal is to lose control,” says Holzke. “The intention is to communicate through my heart and not my head.”
They’re so lifelike and intricate, that at a glance, you might think Laurence Aguerre’s flowers are real. Crafted from textiles, wire, beads and thread, her floral sculptures are delicate and alive. I can’t imagine how much thought and focus goes into each one. Grouped together, they look like wildflowers that just sprang from the earth. And I love the contrast of the dainty flower with its hard, concrete base. They have a magical quality, to be honest. Much like the blooms that inspired them.
I don’t know if you ever used a spirograph kit as a kid, but these thread drawings by Tel Aviv artist, Sharon Etgar remind me of the drawings I used to make with mine. Of course, Etgar’s are made with thread, which makes them much more intricate and textured. Her designs range from loose and abstract to playful patterns, and some are more densely sewn than others. I find them beautiful, messy and intense.
We’ve had a fair bit of rain lately, and I’ve been caught in more than one downpour. No umbrella or rain mac can protect you from a deluge. You may as well just dance in it. I came across this photograph by Austrian born photographer, Wolf Suschitzky and it captured the feeling of Fall and racing through a rain storm; a sudden darkening of the sky and giant puddles too large to leap across. “My approach is to ‘find’ photographs… to observe things, not arrange them,” said Suschitzky.
Inspired by domestic handicrafts –– quilting, embroidery, needlework, china painting, and sewing –– Sea’s latest ready-to-wear collection pays homage to the hand. “During the pandemic,” says Sea’s co-designer, Monica Paolini “we studied craft and what women did when they were at home. I just kept looking at Etsy and hand-work and different ways that women occupied their time, like crochet or needlepoint. It’s so touching and [something] I’m personally super-attracted to. I always want [our designs] to be like little treasures and to bring optimism and happiness to people.” From the quilted pieces to the hand-crocheted details, there isn’t a single look I’m not drawn to. And if I was as taking something home, it would be this dress; cutouts and puffed sleeves –– what’s not to love?
Good golly –– isn’t this such a joyful house? It belongs to lampshade designer, Rosi de Ruig and her family, and between the bold paint colours, (that green!) whimsical wallpapers and mismatched textiles, it’s just the kind of playful interior design I love to see in the world. It reminds me that maximalism is alive and kicking. All the colourful crockery, art and mix of modern and antique lighting bring such humour and originality to the kitchen. And the guest loo, with its vintage Sicilian tiles and bright pink basin skirt is wonderfully chic and over the top. Who has basin skirts anymore? Have a mosey around. It’s so much fun.
Straining a muscle last week was an immobilizing sign that I had too much on my plate. My plate runneth over, in fact. On reflection, it’s clear that all the waters had merged, so to speak –– mine, my husband’s, my children’s, my friend’s –– and I was unable to distinguish between their lanes and my own. It was one giant pool, and there I was throwing out buoys in every direction even though everyone can swim. And if they can’t swim, they’re learning to. As parents, we incapacitate and undermine our children when we attempt to salve and solve their every issue. Marriage, or any other significant relationship, is no different. We think it comes from a place of love –– and feel undervalued when our efforts go unrecognized –– when in fact it is a need to control our own anxiety around what they’re dealing with and what it brings up in us that’s driving our efforts. It’s very human, and not very helpful. And this is when I know I need to step away from the pool, or the plate, or whatever metaphor we’re going with, and gain some perspective. Eventually I return to myself, find a lane, and swim on.
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