I think this is as close as I can get to the softly energetic pleased with myself feeling I have today. A nice time writing, a return to Jayne’s pilates, mixed with really enjoyable reading (Helen Dunmore… more soon…) and finally buying a shed. I feel unfurled. This continues to be my go to dictionary for this series. I particularly loved these synonyms and related words:
One of those nice serendipitous things where Brain Pickings, a newsletter I enjoy, took me to The Poetry Business who had been recommended to me just yesterday, via enjoying Christy Ducker’s A Scientist’s Advice on Healing. I am happily now a member and looking forward to reading Messenger in full.
I recently finished A Room of One’s Own for the first time. There’s so much more to say than this initial post but in the midst of several funding applications I am reminded of two of so many phrases that hurtled towards me.
“That collar that I have spoken of… bowed my head to the ground.“
A Room of One’s Own, Virginia Woolf (p.5, Vintage Classics)
This physical manifestation of worry or preoccupation is a concept I’ve ruminated on for some time. The Daily Journeys We Wear is an overarching concept for my present art practice. The notion being our lived experience can be manifested in wearable sculpture, portraits that enclose, cage, guard or amplify us.
I am developing a new series:
Worn: A Battleground. Exploring what we carry with us. Accumulated weight. An armour of sorts.
Worn Weft Weary. A trio.
Vestiges of an emotional battleground, artefacts.
I like the sense of a trio emerging here. They’ll be several stances forming a group I think. The W words are textural and a ripe starting place as specific words often are for me.
“A nugget of pure truth to wrap between the pages of your notebook and keep on the mantelpiece forever.”
A Room of One’s Own, Virginia Woolf (p.4, Vintage Classics)
I loved this phrase from the moment I read it. That preciousness and the idea of a gift of words. A weightiness too though that can be burden like the previous collar. It is writing I want to write and the pressure I feel to find such writing when deadlines loom.
The wonderful archive activists Invisible Women bring archive to screen. Their research and writing are beguilingly rich, I’ve learnt so much about missing work in film history from them. Their particularly lovely recent newsletter features Rachel Pronger’s piece in Art Monthly on discovering Sandra Lahire. This essay is fertile in its description of the films during the particular setting of lockdown in March 2020. Rachel draws themes from the collected work with ease and gave me a physical sense of the impact of watching them.
“I felt a hand reach out across the span of dead time, one lone woman to another. A kind of connection in a disconnected moment. Alone, but somehow strangely still together.“
…This is the only way to describe the impact of reading N.K. Jemisin’sThe Broken Earth trilogy. Everything else is filling time until I can find my way back to the last book, The Stone Sky, again. I’m planning a Reading section on this site and will talk more about this trilogy then.
Emotion of the day number 20, with thanks to Be Manzini
… despite the blue skies and crisp air. Recovering from a deadline the day before and generally feeling the weight of things. Not helped by, in site related news, my Reading page still eluding me. I want a simple route to embed books without supporting amazon and the like and may have to resort to photographing covers myself.
Emotion of the day number 17, with thanks to Be Manzini