The Making of a magazine - two years in.

The nights are late and the work is as driven as it was when we began whispering this BIG thing to life more than  two years ago. Sometimes we are exhausted. Forever managing ways to mark out the time differently, to acknowledge the work done by the other and together, to do what we can, to remember our voice in the overwhelm. The administration is relentless and roles are necessarily divided. The creative work is ongoing between us and behaves much like a child demanding attention to the exclusion of all else. And sometimes like a child, it has to wait which, more often than not, ends with EVERYONE grumpi ;) As the BIG creative directors, we are also our own PA's  -  responsible for sleuth work on returned to sender subscriptions, for invoicing and advertising, for business, for responding to submissions, for curating the artwork, for the features, for collaborative design, for blogging, face booking, emailing, meetings and meltdowns. It is a BIG journey, daily, and mapped mostly by the energetic rise and fall of the four little people in our lives. 

Right now we are immersed in the beauty of a new work unfolding. The creative development of Issue 4 Into The Dark is well under way even though it will not be published for 5 months. It is the most exciting time, ideas drawn up and exchanged at all hours, words scribbled on scrap paper and paintings flown through a cracked iPhone screen for immediate response. It is a fuelled and firing process with the luxury of a slow burn over the holiday period before the speed and adrenalin of final design in the new year. We are beside ourselves with the quality and QUANTITY of artwork and words received from around the world. Current collaborations and exchanges are on the go between here and Russia, Helsinki, the Netherlands, New York...sometimes we pause and catch our breath and laugh a little for the enormity of this BIG project. Last night I was asked if we could speak to some artists about how we got BIG off the ground. Well, we can hardly remember the specifics (except that every step has been recorded here on the blog) and agree it was unthinkable that we made the bulk of the first magazine without a SINGLE spoken conversation! We could write a book on the making of a magazine (and yes, it is on the list!) 

As we watch the pages growing almost by themselves, we speak increasingly about a BIG pedagogy that is a realisation of where we have been working from for so long; that of valuing the work of children and artists side by side. That of giving a voice to the concept of not knowing. Of challenging the authority of art practice and paradigm. Of firing creative response without prescribed expectation or goal. Of contributing to the conversation about the value and accessibility of arts education. Of giving permission for new ways of open-ended art making and risk-taking. Of nurturing bravery, imagination and making visible the power and impact of generosity and collaboration.  Of a process of co-authorship that is significant and immersed yet driven with individual still voices maintained and spacious. And of this balance of particular practice of co-authorship and creative process in relation to collaborating with children. 

For us both we feel the BIG work is a growing culmination of 20 years each as practicing artists and educators. In arriving at a clear vision for BIG there is again space for the creative work between us to thrive and spark threads unexpected. Lilly works on a series of dark monsters and I respond with words scrawled over late night print-outs. We dream up the beginnings of limited edition artist books with our work published as a response to each of the magazines. We follow instinct and watch the BIG world build as a paper city between us. A continuous and evolving exhibition. Marks made and erased and made differently in response to the other. Live and in process. 

We are so grateful for the feedback and support given to us from so many circles and this enables us to continue. Thank you x You can subscribe here or help us by sharing the BIG work among friends. 

He was responsible for the final tree in the forrest with a water source that fell pouring from his heart. 

Paper dolls on the BIG studio floor

We are late-night magazine making again.  Side by side across the country where stories are painted and  paintings are whispered back in words. Some of the final pages to land are the worlds born between us. Below are the first in process glimpses of the Grumpi's for the Game On! edition.

 I see pull apart paper dolls with holes and space for imagination and bravery unbroken... make me a dress from paintings and poetry she says...lina and lotta spin coloured thread from the frayed string and stitch the outlines and shadows of a thousand girls ...

Twyla, age 3.5 paints a prototype of the Gumpi dolls for Game On! 

"I hope Joey likes these" says Twyla. Very much.

The Grumpi's on their way, born of Lilly's images and Jo's words for their collaborative BIG Books That Grow project

And we HAD to show you the paper dolls on the Picking Daisies blog of our 12 yr old BIG Feature writer Zali (you might even WIN a custom made doll here if you are super quick!)

Just keep going

Let's just keep going, is a phrase often thrown between us.

We cannot believe all that has happened this year. And if we thought about the accumulated daily (nightly) hours I think we would both collapse on the spot.
In this current new year crossover we have been exchanging words and artwork in a responsive and rapid fire creative process without pause or perfection.  Lilly sent me a painting the other day with a note asking Is it finished?

Our work, words and ideas are overlapping. Even the paint is starting to run between us.

To step into a shared space with someone you have not seen for 13 years and be vulnerable in agreeing to enter into the unknown, is risky, surprising and thankfully for us, incredibly supportive. The co-authorship of this BIG magazine provokes, prescribes, demands, dares, expects and cajoles a days work from each of us and also makes room for tiny glimpses of the hilarity, niggling, messing, playing and firing of our everyday lives. It is the creative collaboration between our paint, words and ladders to everywhere that holds us both in its slipstream and propels the magazine making. Side by side.
The Grumpi girl leads the way...

Little Treasure.  
Keeping up with the brothers seven, she climbs til the rungs become stars underfoot and she is walking on the words of the world. Weightless and full with the centuries of girls who have climbed before her. Scrambling feet going and going and going. And quietly, in the unexpected out breath, resting on the efforts of  all of them to stand so far that she can reach into the pockets of her story and rain the sky with extra time. Ladders to everywhere. 

(Jo & Lilly 31-12-2011)

Happy New Year treasured readers xx 

Editing BIG Kids Magazine

As an editor, I must be quite methodical. As a parent, I must be organised and practical. But as a writer and illustrator, I love being swept up in a creative storm where there are no boundaries. (Karen Comer)

The 'First Flight' edition of BIG Kids Magazine in September this year was our first experience of publishing a magazine. Lilly and I have authored published papers, produced limited edition artist-books and directed full length dance and theatre works - we are obsessed with the 'process' aspect of creative practice and used to drafting and re-drafting. However, when it comes down to the wire of copy editing, we could read through our work 50 times and still not see the missing 'i' in Imagination (Oh yes, it happened, MORE than once!) 

Once you are so close to something it harder to see it with any distance or indeed, perspective. And here is where Karen Comer came in. She acts as copy editor, and increasingly as advocate and friend. Based in Melbourne (I know - you'd think we could at least get ONE of our team members in the same city as one of us!), Karen is brilliant at her job and her incredible generosity helped to get us over the BIG line on numerous occasions. We asked her a few questions and here she shares insights - no doubt she will read and want to edit this post, but again she generously gave us range to edit HER words and so we have enjoyed the play ;) Thanks Karen, we LOVE having you on the BIG team!

Can you explain the role of an editor?

An editor’s job involves asking lots of questions to the author.

My job as an editor – regardless of the subject I am editing – is to help the author communicate with their readers. It is that simple! I want to ensure that there is nothing that will distract or confuse the readers. So spelling, punctuation and grammar must be correct. This does mean I am slightly pedantic at times but I couldn’t bear for a reader to put down a fabulous book or magazine because one sentence did not make perfect sense! Whatever the message or idea or theme or information the author wants to share, I want the audience to receive that message or story presented in its very best form.

The relationship between the illustrations or photos or diagrams and the accompanying text is very important. When I edited a nursery rhyme book for Hinkler books a few years ago, I checked an illustration for the rhyme – ‘Hector Protector was dressed all in green.’ The illustrator had used red for poor Hector Protector! I became particular about precise illustrations as a languages publisher for Jacaranda, John Wiley and Sons. If you are learning the French word for donkey and your only clue is a picture, it is imperative that your donkey does not look like a horse!

Can you paint a picture window of what your day was like as a full-time editor and as it is now as a freelance editor and mother?

When I worked full-time for an educational publisher, I loved all the big-picture projects. Starting with a blank piece of paper and a subject, then finishing up two or three years later with a tangible book. I loved the collaboration with authors, copy editors, designers, sales consultants, illustrators, subject consultants, multimedia specialists …

How did having children impact your work life?

Now, with three small kids, my editing life is quite different! I work in carefully planned but snatched hours, often first thing in the morning and last thing at night, and often in my pyjamas! I work while my oldest son is at school, my daughter is at kinder and my youngest son sleeps in the afternoon. I carve out hours on the weekend, when my husband takes the kids to footy practice or in between kid birthday parties, family events and grocery shopping.

I have swapped my office with the window overlooking a pub for a home study with bits of lego and colouring pages on the floor. My projects are not of the big picture variety any more – there is no time for that expansive, spacious kind of thinking so I usually do the detailed copyediting part of the project after most of the decisions have been made.

My work as a freelance editor ebbs and flows. I love having a project – it teaches me new skills, I learn something new, have the chance to work with creative people and it pays the bills. I also love not working – it gives me the chance to spend time on my own writing and illustrating projects!

What drives you to create worlds for kids in the stories you are currently working on?

Being at home with my kids means I have permission to read all day – well, nearly all day! And so I started my blog – Earthly Joyride – to share all the amazing picture books we like to read and the things we make and do in response to what we have read. And then I started to do a few courses on writing and illustrating for children. And now I write and illustrate my own stories and hope that eventually there will be a tangible book with my name  on it, just as I always imagined as a child.

As an editor, I must be quite methodical. As a parent, I must be organised and practical. But as a writer and illustrator, I love being swept up in a creative storm where there are no boundaries. Most of my stories are sparked by tiny ideas – a fragment of a sentence, half a story from a friend, a photo, a scrap of material, something one of my kids said. 

It takes me a long time to write a picture book. Perhaps 18 drafts over 7 months. Perhaps half a story written on holidays, then finished 8 months later, reworked for the next three months. The process goes on and on. Mostly enjoyable, sometimes frustrating.

There are times when my timetabled life infuriates me – school and kinder pick-up times, editing deadlines, Monday’s swimming lesson. But it does provide a sturdy frame for everything to hang on and within that there is the space to create. Not always enough time, but it is a starting point. And once you start to create, there is no choice but to hang on for the ride!

Turquoise tailed peacocks
From a picture book Karen is working on

An artist a dancer makes

It is has been over a year of BIG collaboration between the two of us.  First flights and treasured maps are writing themselves into our other work and forging unanticipated links, provocations and responses.  Lilly posted the below on her Little Boat Tree artist blog today and funnily enough, ran it by me to help land a sentence with my words catching her thinking, like she catches mine.  Together we find ourselves increasingly working at the intersection of magazine-making and art-life, and this post is where it collides. It all happens, all at once, all of the time.  The opening of the exhibition (and you are invited!) also marks our much anticipated launch into the making of the Treasure Maps edition and we cannot wait to get lost in it. 

Here the artist dancing, introduces her new body of work:

-------------------------------------------

 It is a while since I have been here, splitting myself between BIG things and creating a new body of work for a show with Lisa Rodden I have opening next week at Art2muse. Splitting is not quite the right word though, it's more of a swinging back and forth, never quite leaving one for the other, always informed by where I have been and where I am attempting to get to. Since beginning a collaboration with dancer Jo Pollitt over a year ago I have come to see lines on a page as more of a silent visual choreography. A floor pattern tracking longings and failures; map like; incomplete; absolute. My hand responding to a personal lineage of marks and shapes; histories and broken bones. Working this time to a dissonant soundtrack, Prokofievesque, storytelling the heartbreaks, hopes and missed opportunities of love and partnership. Investigating the losses that come from holding each other too tight, or not enough. 

perpetuity

 In this new body of work I explore the nature of relationships and the landscapes that sprawl distances between people. Graphite landing on unspoken conversations, making them visible (like rubbings on autumn leaves), even in their emptiness. The little red stitches holding it all together. Corrections like red crosses on a primary school page. A path; a fence; the fabric of our discontent like spiders webs or fishing nets. The unsaid stories that connect us and betray our need for distance, otherness and solitude. 

Interestingly, despite the obvious disappointment in some of my images (no doubt a delayed response to my own heart break)  I am now involved in the most intense, supportive, challenging and creative relationship I have encountered. The collaborative work I do with Jo feeds, frames and fuels much else in my life. There is something significant about connecting across a great distance with another human being that defies life's hopelessness and disappointments. In my work I search for marks that are relevant, and scribble stories that might change the way we relate to the world in small ways. I worry about the state of the planet, and especially the plight of children living without fresh water, sunlight and laughter. I am not sure how much of a difference my pages of ink can make, but I am convinced that truly connecting with another human being, and then making something together, is a defiant act with unmetered potential to catalyze change.  This new body of work is called Infinite Proximity and with enormous gratitude I dedicate it to my creative partner Jo Pollitt for restoring my hope, distilling my fears, and making me far more brave. Thank you x

You are welcome to join Lisa Rodden and I for launch drinks at 6.30pm Thursday November 10th at Art2muse Gallery 475A New South Head Rd cnr Bellevue rd Double Bay. 

held

listen

The BIG 'Blogiversary'

It’s our ‘blogiversary’ today, 12months since the first blog post.  How to sum up what has been a huge year leaves me hands perched on the keyboard willing the best telling of a story that has caught us altogether by surprise.

Lilly and I first dived into BIG in September 2010 despite not having seen each other for 12 years-"I do believe we are starting a collaboration without uttering a spoken word".  We called it a making of a magazine blog. And now we have made one. In September 2011 we hit the press, first saw each other after 12 years (via skype) and launched.

The acceleration from initial sketching of ideas to holding the magazine in our hands was fast and full. We talked, jostled, fired and worked – almost all night on occasion. 

Very early scribbles of a cover by Jo (2010) 

"..a little paper house that can be bent into shape and wallpapered with scribblings. / Tiny paper furniture and flower pots made out of the back cover. / Collaborations between little people and illustrators/poets. / Mentoring across the globe between small ones and big ones. / Interviews where the answers are illustrated rather than written. / Children asked the BIG questions about life the universe and everything". (Early scribbles of imagined pages by Lilly, Sept 2010)

BIG Kids magazine is a co-authored and collaborative place. We often agree to put our own stories aside to do the work but the process is underwritten with a mutual understanding of creative practice as rigorous, personal and poetic.

We are so appreciative of your support and of the kids and big kids who continue to encourage and share our dream of positioning the creative arts as a central avenue for processing, responding to, and affecting the world. 

The BIG blog will continue to chart the making of this BIG magazine, share great work on children, artists, projects, creativity and the connections between them, and seek ways to navigate the matrix world of the mother artist. 

The BIG cover artwork by Lilly, age 40 and Humphrey, age 6

We rely solely on magazine sales to get the BIG magazine to print and are now looking to garner support or sponsorship on a greater scale.

You can read the latest review of BIG kids Magazine today on My Book Corner and support us by spreading the BIG word to your friends and SUBSCRIBING.

Jo and Lilly xx

Drawing, dancing, distance

Dance is the embodiment of the spirit said author Kim Scott recently at a gathering I was lucky enough to be at. Indeed. Dance is not tangible in the same way as words, neither is the idea of spirit. Both are hard to hold on to or document, and both are absolutely present.  Similarly, Lilly's lines move in ways that lift you from the page and into where you can't quite explain. She is currently in the studio creating a new body of work for her upcoming November exhibition all the while navigating the BIG demands. We each give the other the space to 'work' as much as possible, but the immersive creative process that has been so familiar to us both for so many years is unsettled by distraction and this whole BIG affair. What is a certainty is that new work will be made. New lines. New dances. New bodies, and new bodies of work. I quietly ask for a sneak peek in between the daily barrage of BIG business and write immediately in response to her images. It is this ongoing collaborative and responsive practice that supports the long distance between us and fuels the work both inside and outside of BIG. Dancing.

Lilly Blue, towards the exhibition

She sewed under overlines and caught needle pulled thread to where her hands did not expect. 

You cannot see my history through such buildings and breaks.

Cut this graphite armour and gently retrace my undoing.(jp)

Lilly Blue, towards the exhibition

shoulder framed and falling. weight into weight. (jp)

Lilly Blue, for the exhibition

you gave me houses of histories and i couldn't hold any of them.(jp)

Animated work stations - ALSO builds the BIG ship

We have a special introduction to make about a small team of people currently working to animate our BIG dreams. Lilly and I sang out in agreement when my find of the 'designers of our dreams' matched Lilly's bookmark of the most 'beautiful website in the world' (the now closed Charmingwall). We laughed when we realised I'd ordered two books that unknowingly turned out to be authored by them ( The Exquisite Book - where 100 artists play a collaborative game, and Drawn In, an irresistible inside invitation into artists' sketchbooks).

All roads seemed to lead to ALSO. And now ALSO is in the midst of building the road that will lead to BIG.
Jenny Volvovski and Matt Lamothe are in Chicago and Julia Rothman is based in New York, together they design, build and play. And right now they are playing with us and putting the finishing touches on our BIG landing page. YAY!

The process has been divinely responsive and generously collaborative, with ALSO taking our ideas, images, links and sketches and re-playing them back to us in ways that made our hearts leap and breath hold in unison. It has also propelled another landing for the ongoing collaboration and responsive creative process between Lilly and I:

One night ALSO needed some fish for the underwater BIG ocean, Lilly created said fish and sent them to me for response...

...I drafted the word-fish I saw swimming in her school...and swam them back to Lilly...

I think the creatures resist definition. i think they have echo's of elongated quiet beasts and the character who lives in the cave and comes out with a swirl once a year to proclaim the secret password to wherever. I think she, that cheeky run-n-jump highleaper is unafraid of the leap of faith and holds all of her arms close to her sides with a toss of her sea hair, magnifying glass and sail fins. I think that guy fish you drew with the Mohawk fin up top is just too cool for fish school. I think the long nose nervous seeker of treasure-traps leading the pack is one-eyed in focus. I think they have a lot to say, and a little attitude, but not too much as to trip the focus from the flying fish birds and magic of the flagship.   I see a couple of the others are actually facing each other in a Mexican co-authored stand off. Nose to underwater nose. I think the unseen one is a little too relaxed at the ravine and with fishwings behind cats ears rests too long on his laurels and is tripped into joining the catapulting scene. I think there is a little crawly creature with a cane and backpack of history deep-walking in the opposite direction and nodding his head against the tide. I see the hairy many-scaled fish with a wink and a comb and oh too many questions and choose your own adventure answers under each of his post-it note scales. And oh I hear the chatter about them in the water, in the world. Here we come, they say, here we come.

Lilly responded with a new school, and in this way we found the BIG fish to swim to ALSO...

The ALSO BIG site will soon be revealed, and we will pack you all up with us and board the winged ship that will take us to launch day. Hooray!

The Competition.

As co-creators of this BIG ship. We take turns in navigation. Trusting the other will spy rock and steer us well. And sometimes we see the same rock differently. And then what? There is listening. And counter argument. And the one with the greatest gut wins. And the other accepts it. And takes disappointment on the chin. Like a child, a little grumpy but soon engaged with the next wave and past the rock completely.

I wanted to enter a competition to give us some instant BIG cash and a business fast track. I wrote the application and had a feeling we were a strong contender. Lilly felt the same, and then asked me to pull the application. I did. Because I knew it was not right. That for a company like ours to be ethical and brave, we could not. But I am still a bit grumpy. And I think it is mainly because I want to see if we could/would win!

In my house tonight I had an extra child. An international, visiting from London. Squashed in age between my two boys, the resulting trysts were hilarious. Before bed there were re-enactments of the Cirque du Soleil performance we had just witnessed (thanks Grannie!): all strong men and acrobats and silent movie film stars careering around in the playroom til WAY beyond bedtime. Wind down consisted of gluey fingers sticking paper-monsters, a collaborative calamity of a shoebox house (I am no queen of craft!) and a drawing competition. The competition winner was decided by a spinning pencil. The 5yr old judge spun it repeatedly until his brother won. In the end it was decided the visitor should win. Skill played no part in the decider as they agreed all were brilliant. Paper medals were made up. And a very wonky trophy. Photos were taken, the picture gallery hung, and the satisfied winners eventually all tumbled sleepwards.

I sat with the paper trophy and let myself wonder. And then I went back to the competition entry and deleted my submission. Crossing each other out in the over-rule? No.
A lighthouse at a pivotal BIG juncture in the making of this magazine? Yes.
Thanks Lilly.

The Co-authored Land of Grumpilotta and Little Miss Apple Tree

Jo and I create worlds in the space between us, and tend not to work with the traditional collaborative approach of writer and illustrator. Our ideas grow in a co-authored landscape. Jo writes worlds and words for stories I have dreamt forever. She sends ideas for shapes and shades. I paint with her fingers. Our worlds overlap to the point that we cannot remember which, or who, came first. It is a responsive dialogue that finds a different form depending on the demands of each new world we collide in. The Grumpi ladies have an incredible written history but the story does not arrive in a linear frame. I illustrate what resonates and Jo recalibrates her text in the slipstream and viceversa. Though a very specific aspect of the BIG ship, this practice of co-authorship very much informs and continues to drive our bigger working process in many ways. Here, we are working on a series of online and print-based  limited edition artists books of illustrated prose for the grown and the growing: Books that grow.

Text for the grown...

On the day before autumn, Lotta hitched layer coloured skirts and took whisper steps to a new river. To her first born she spoke, "I will find you there under pebbles and ash and pull you out from the other side of the world, earth covered and brave from the journey". The child had been wanting to land for centuries, drawing maps of imaginary treasure to pass the time until her mother was finally ready to catch her. With strings loose all around her that held tight to her thoughts and dreams, she dived into the future and into the arms of Lotta who wept and sighed and sank in awe at her wondrous girlchild.

...and the growing...

The world is a tree

here, come travel with me

and I'll secret a storm in your name.

You're the wondrous one,

your tale's just begun

oh such joy at the world in a day.

May you splash in the puddle

and unmuddle the muddle

to dance in new ways on the map.

We will follow

and fold you

and love you

and hold you,

and catch you whenever you SPLAT!




Images by Lilly, words by Jo. Ideas, content, and response for images and words and the space between them belong to both artists. All rights reserved.

Little Boat Tree and BIG beginnings

With Lilly and I in overdrive with BIG business plans and strategic futures, I come back to thinking about the beginning of all this. Until now, we have simply been running, flying, driving. But with some seriously BIG concrete currently taking shape, and our gorgeous new blog banner (thanks to the brilliant Maree Oaten), I stop for a second to shake my head (again) at how it all went 'go'.

She Loved Her Like an Ocean, Gentle and Wild,  Lilly Blue

 A prologue to BIG Beginnings:

After the birth of my two marvellously mad boys

I could not let go of the call to have another baby.

I even 'heard' footsteps of a third child, a girl child.

After miscarriage and marriage meltdown over the thought of 'three', my very much wanted daughter eventually joined us in December 2009. 

When she finally arrived, 

I wanted to give her something. 

A marker of her birth.

A gift for a  longed for daughter from her ecstatic mother.

My maternal grandmother (who died when my mother was only two) was an artist, my mother a singer, and I now a dancer. 

I couldn't imagine not continuing the maternal line and the particular imagining that had run through blood for so long (she will no doubt become a statistician!).

Unpacking the landing of gentle and wild

So when I found Lilly's work online on her blog and at Art 2 Muse,  I knew I had found my gift. With 3 kids now, the particular work I fell in love with was too expensive for me so I wrote to ask if I could buy an unframed print or negotiate payment options for the framed version. As an old friend from a particularly memorable and rich period of my Island life (Tasmania circa 1998), Lilly met me generously and wholeheartedly. A deal was made and the work flew to me, and to Nadia Rose. And fittingly, it was this unexpected prologue of child and art that inspired my initial BIG invitation to Lilly (and her YES).
 
Lilly and her Little Boat Tree are on a journey of oceanic proportions. We have had much discussion about how our other 'worlds' fit with and within BIG and we will reveal more of that as we know it ourselves. After a hiatus on the blog because of BIG, Lilly is now back there as well as here, and if you haven't found her already I can promise you will a little bit fall in love with her and her divine blog Little Boat Tree. Enjoy!

Co-authorship, conflict and creativity

It all started out so simply; I came to Lilly with a BIG idea, and she (unexpectedly) met me right at the heart of it. The responsive conversation that ensued is coloured in previous posts and will continue to land here in front of you as it happens. It is a rich and driving place with billowing winds and the occassional crack in the groundswell.

After sailing without a map for weeks, we were arrested by shallow water and sharp edges. Put simply: I didn't expect Lilly. The force of us both in the boat threatened to overturn it and the turbulance has seen us fall head on into faraway lands of lawyers and accountants, percentages and profit and loss. We hit our heads together on the way down and it hurt. Luckily we are both spring loaded.

The difficulty in sorting roles and souls was like a storm in Narnia, all drama, dark wardrobes and late nights. While I retain the role as founder and editor, Lilly has become undoubtedly the co-grounder of this BIG world. BIG is one vision harnessed from two hearts. We now have an agreement that is safe, bold and unconventional and supported by weight, difference, serendipity and the slipstream that sees this BIG world grow at lightening speed.

We both hold on, and we both let go.

With a rocking building in her blood, tiny boats carve new ways through older veins. A procession. A fleet. Anchors lodging in little toes and in the corners of her eyes. Land ho. Miniature armies scale slippery irises, hooking ropes and harnesses to see what she sees. To look with everything. To see with more. The end of childhood comes with the birth of the youngest child. And now she cries. The child. The girl child. And history gets up to feed her.

Correspon-dance

Correspondance with Jo is like being swept up into the arms of the wind, both zephyr and wild. She crafts words so that they do in fact move, with an academic whimsy that is rare and sought after amongst creatives. This new partnership intrigues and stirs me so that I am awake in the night, searching for the child of me in order to draw with the same lyricism as a little boy might render a bird hovering over an egg, in orange and green. 

The potential of co-authorship strips away all that is protective and superficial for me, so that I can get to the heart of this vision, which seems to come from the core of me, at the same time as having a vigorous irrepressible life of it's own. We toss metaphors back and forth, reveling in allegory and motif's that are curious, beautiful, inspiring and generous enough to hold the childhood terrain we are both navigating and fabricating. This dialogue holds, demands, encourages and sanctions so much more than a solitary conversation within my studio walls.

I look into the dark, moonshine stealing starlight, and know that somewhere out there is my confidante and collaborator, equally as fervent, restless, and driven. There is a mother, awake also, drinking in the beauty of a childhood lived for a short time in her arms.