Tiny Acts MW43a, 43b, 43c. 24-25/08/22
Bervie Brow Research Station, where time and sound are distorted, converged, loop back, layer. A beautiful landscape and a raging sea. Deep cold tunnels. What sort of dream is this? A waking dream. A memory of a past that didn't happen.
Bervie Brow Research Station, where time and sound are distorted, converged, loop back, layer. A beautiful landscape and a raging sea. Deep cold tunnels. What sort of dream is this? A waking dream. A memory of a past that didn't happen.
Tiny Acts MW42 19/08/22
Subject/form anxiety and hesitance this week. So very little time and privacy. Bad memory. Beautiful bottles. Spray graphite and Coco Chanel. Repetition and reenactment, perhaps a ritual.
Subject/form anxiety and hesitance this week. So very little time and privacy. Bad memory. Beautiful bottles. Spray graphite and Coco Chanel. Repetition and reenactment, perhaps a ritual.
Tiny Acts MW41 12/08/22
Eggshell theatre, also boat. Bury or float.
Eggshell theatre, also boat. Bury or float.
Tiny Acts MW40 05/08/22
Bury the emotions. Fragile, exhausted, bite-sized. Small intimate stage. I was disappointed in the random landscape format Instagram chose to display my documentation in, but maybe that's typical of my state of mind and body. Horizontal. I am landscape.
Bury the emotions. Fragile, exhausted, bite-sized. Small intimate stage. I was disappointed in the random landscape format Instagram chose to display my documentation in, but maybe that's typical of my state of mind and body. Horizontal. I am landscape.
Tiny Acts MW39 29/07/22
Let me take you on a trip
Around the world and back
And you won't have to move you just sit still
Now let your mind do the walking
And let my body do the talking
Let me show you the world in my eyes
- Martin Gore 1990
Let me show you the world in my mouth.
It made much more sense to do this piece in the park. Amoung the magpies and the rabbits. It focused me and my intentions. Gave me direction and (surprisingly) confidence. Confidence to experiment.
3 parts to the Act:
1) Dark mouth world - wax forms from music holes and river water inside the black velvet bag inside my mouth.
2) Inside-out moon consume.
3) The whole of the moon consume.
Internal worlds, arenas, stages, environments.
Let me take you on a trip
Around the world and back
And you won't have to move you just sit still
Now let your mind do the walking
And let my body do the talking
Let me show you the world in my eyes
- Martin Gore 1990
Let me show you the world in my mouth.
It made much more sense to do this piece in the park. Amoung the magpies and the rabbits. It focused me and my intentions. Gave me direction and (surprisingly) confidence. Confidence to experiment.
3 parts to the Act:
1) Dark mouth world - wax forms from music holes and river water inside the black velvet bag inside my mouth.
2) Inside-out moon consume.
3) The whole of the moon consume.
Internal worlds, arenas, stages, environments.
Tiny Acts MW38 22/07/22
Writing what I feel are pertinent phrases and words in licorice pen on vanilla wafer paper. The scent of vanilla is strong. I'm influenced by Interior Scroll (Schneeman) but I don't have a political message to make, rather a subjective and methodological discussion to externalise and digest.
Writing what I feel are pertinent phrases and words in licorice pen on vanilla wafer paper. The scent of vanilla is strong. I'm influenced by Interior Scroll (Schneeman) but I don't have a political message to make, rather a subjective and methodological discussion to externalise and digest.
Tiny Acts MW37 15/07/22
I am a diagram. Can I be a Venn diagram or concentric circles? Lying down in shade, henge. Exhausted. Ley lines.Flatland eggs. Mirror as mask.
I am a diagram. Can I be a Venn diagram or concentric circles? Lying down in shade, henge. Exhausted. Ley lines.Flatland eggs. Mirror as mask.
Tiny Acts MW36 08/07/22
I am a mirror. I am a black hole. I meet myself. Bringing out the darkness, I meet myself halfway. What I already have and what I don't yet know. Inner instincts affected by how I perceive the external reality. Mirrors under my skirts, the darkness in my clothes.
I am a mirror. I am a black hole. I meet myself. Bringing out the darkness, I meet myself halfway. What I already have and what I don't yet know. Inner instincts affected by how I perceive the external reality. Mirrors under my skirts, the darkness in my clothes.
Tiny Acts MW35 03/07/22
What is my subject? Reaching. Things on long sticks. An F on a long stick up to the tree? Down to the water? Or graphite on the end of the stick, drawing. What are the limits of drawing? Finger prints. Wire. Thread. Rain. Can one draw with voice? Writing as drawing. Drawing as writing.
What is my subject? Reaching. Things on long sticks. An F on a long stick up to the tree? Down to the water? Or graphite on the end of the stick, drawing. What are the limits of drawing? Finger prints. Wire. Thread. Rain. Can one draw with voice? Writing as drawing. Drawing as writing.
Tiny Acts MW34 24/06/22
Very messy post-Act. I am a drawing. Graphite on my bosom. Hands ingrained. What will become of my blouse? The struggle of "back to normal". Out by the lake it all makes a new sense.
Very messy post-Act. I am a drawing. Graphite on my bosom. Hands ingrained. What will become of my blouse? The struggle of "back to normal". Out by the lake it all makes a new sense.
Tiny Acts MW33 19/06/22
My time, conversation, opportunity, opportunity for reflection was fragmented, my emotions, concentration, mirror and friends were fragile.It was time to connect and reflect.
My time, conversation, opportunity, opportunity for reflection was fragmented, my emotions, concentration, mirror and friends were fragile.It was time to connect and reflect.
Tiny Acts MW32 10/06/22
Glockenspiel notes spin and hit, unlike the planned halo of silver keys I'd envisaged. It became an interesting accidental mess and a surprising symphony.
Glockenspiel notes spin and hit, unlike the planned halo of silver keys I'd envisaged. It became an interesting accidental mess and a surprising symphony.
Tiny Acts MW31 03/06/22
Paris. "The Exquisite Corpse shall drink the new wine". Words and perhaps unexpected pictures. Surreal and real, intimate, inward-looking, over and over, but slightly differently each time. Overwhelmed by massive paintings and flashback feelings. Spend more time. Sit outside. Enjoy walking. Play with words. Make connections, Stories within stories.
Paris. "The Exquisite Corpse shall drink the new wine". Words and perhaps unexpected pictures. Surreal and real, intimate, inward-looking, over and over, but slightly differently each time. Overwhelmed by massive paintings and flashback feelings. Spend more time. Sit outside. Enjoy walking. Play with words. Make connections, Stories within stories.
Tiny Acts MW30 27/05/22
I numbered the business cards 1 of 50, 2 of 50 etc. I went to find NN artists at the Vulcan Works on Fetter Street in Northampton. I took the business cards, pencils, hole punch, graphite balls in the silver box.
I numbered the business cards 1 of 50, 2 of 50 etc. I went to find NN artists at the Vulcan Works on Fetter Street in Northampton. I took the business cards, pencils, hole punch, graphite balls in the silver box.
Tiny Acts MW29 21/05/22
Northampton Abington Park. I wanted to use a tree as a sound box/amplifier for my music box (Slow Song) but rain was forecast so I decided to make business cards in the rain instead. 1 business card size fits 50 times into 2 sheets of big sketchbook paper. I pre-folded them and took graphite putty and powder. The bus journey was significant. I had planned to get the X47 but the X4 came first and I jumped on. Doesn't stop at Abington Park so I walked 30 minutes from North Gate bus station. Lost my nerve to do anything art in the park cafe so I stationed myself on 2 benches: one sheltered under a tree and one in the rain. The paper was just thin enough to absorb rain drops from underneath. I formed the putty into a ball and flattened it onto the paper to make a repeating print. It looked like a storyboard or contact sheet, or an animation. The rain added more splodges and my hands were very nicely covered in graphite. But I needed to wash them. The park toilets have automated washer and dryers in one, so I had to repeat the process several times, alternating between two machines. I should have said earlier that I tore the drawing into business cards before washing my hands. It added a lot to the messiness of everything. I stacked the business cards into my old business card holder. I had planned to thread them with loops of embroidery thread to leave them in the trees, on fences, in the Art Museum... but that didn't seem, or I didn't seem, ready. Who am I doing business with? What am I telling them?
Northampton Abington Park. I wanted to use a tree as a sound box/amplifier for my music box (Slow Song) but rain was forecast so I decided to make business cards in the rain instead. 1 business card size fits 50 times into 2 sheets of big sketchbook paper. I pre-folded them and took graphite putty and powder. The bus journey was significant. I had planned to get the X47 but the X4 came first and I jumped on. Doesn't stop at Abington Park so I walked 30 minutes from North Gate bus station. Lost my nerve to do anything art in the park cafe so I stationed myself on 2 benches: one sheltered under a tree and one in the rain. The paper was just thin enough to absorb rain drops from underneath. I formed the putty into a ball and flattened it onto the paper to make a repeating print. It looked like a storyboard or contact sheet, or an animation. The rain added more splodges and my hands were very nicely covered in graphite. But I needed to wash them. The park toilets have automated washer and dryers in one, so I had to repeat the process several times, alternating between two machines. I should have said earlier that I tore the drawing into business cards before washing my hands. It added a lot to the messiness of everything. I stacked the business cards into my old business card holder. I had planned to thread them with loops of embroidery thread to leave them in the trees, on fences, in the Art Museum... but that didn't seem, or I didn't seem, ready. Who am I doing business with? What am I telling them?
Tiny Acts MW28 13/05/22
I'm feeling a bit down on myself today. I didn't live up to my expectations and I shouldn't have had any. I wanted to reference Sally's posted relics of her Act with the moon and letter I sent her. But I didn't this time. I wanted to do something different. But it felt the same. I wanted to forge ahead and break new ground. But I mended something old and broken. Was it a cliche? There was a connection: Sally and I both used humanoid figures in water (lake, sea). Mirror image act, repetition, layering of time, reflection.
I'm feeling a bit down on myself today. I didn't live up to my expectations and I shouldn't have had any. I wanted to reference Sally's posted relics of her Act with the moon and letter I sent her. But I didn't this time. I wanted to do something different. But it felt the same. I wanted to forge ahead and break new ground. But I mended something old and broken. Was it a cliche? There was a connection: Sally and I both used humanoid figures in water (lake, sea). Mirror image act, repetition, layering of time, reflection.
Tiny Acts MW27 06/05/22
Watery responses. A sieve as a boat.
Where the oblong oysters grow
And the rocks are smooth and grey...
Far and few, far and few
Are the lands where the Jumblies live
Their heads are green and their hands are blue
And they went to sea in a sieve.
Sky blue hands and sea green hair.
And the Dong was left on the cruel shore
Gazing, gazing for evermore
Singing the Jumbly chorus still
As he sat all day on the grassy hill.
Forever I'll seek by lake and shore
'Till I find my Jumbly Girl once more
Watery responses. A sieve as a boat.
Where the oblong oysters grow
And the rocks are smooth and grey...
Far and few, far and few
Are the lands where the Jumblies live
Their heads are green and their hands are blue
And they went to sea in a sieve.
Sky blue hands and sea green hair.
And the Dong was left on the cruel shore
Gazing, gazing for evermore
Singing the Jumbly chorus still
As he sat all day on the grassy hill.
Forever I'll seek by lake and shore
'Till I find my Jumbly Girl once more
Tiny Acts MW26 29/04/22
Feeling difficulty discomfort and pain, of an tooth infection, perimenopause, and having to work for a living at something that isn't what I want to do all day. The waning of philosophy and the waxing of theory. The transformation of philosophy into a material practice. Manifesting thought forms.
Feeling difficulty discomfort and pain, of an tooth infection, perimenopause, and having to work for a living at something that isn't what I want to do all day. The waning of philosophy and the waxing of theory. The transformation of philosophy into a material practice. Manifesting thought forms.
Tiny Acts MW25 29/04/22
Trying to be a better artist and a better friend, I sent the cooked drawings to a selection of friends.
Trying to be a better artist and a better friend, I sent the cooked drawings to a selection of friends.
Tiny Acts MW24 22/04/22
I drew round a singing bowl and I cooked drawings of moons in beeswax.
I drew round a singing bowl and I cooked drawings of moons in beeswax.
Tiny Acts MW23 15/04/22
As we didn't visit Abington Park after all, I walked along Swanspool Brook in Croyland Park instead, and at the midway point I sewed moon buttons on my dress. The Moon Ovaries buttons. I used the round mirror as a documentation device. It was such a warm sunny Good Friday, but ever so slightly rushed due to the 4pm swimming lesson for Sandy. I still had the buttons attached for the lesson (obviously I'm just a spectator for that) but it felt like the Act continued. Secret and obvious. There's literally a lot of mileage in bringing a selection of objets/artifacts on a trip. The English Shaman will choose.
As we didn't visit Abington Park after all, I walked along Swanspool Brook in Croyland Park instead, and at the midway point I sewed moon buttons on my dress. The Moon Ovaries buttons. I used the round mirror as a documentation device. It was such a warm sunny Good Friday, but ever so slightly rushed due to the 4pm swimming lesson for Sandy. I still had the buttons attached for the lesson (obviously I'm just a spectator for that) but it felt like the Act continued. Secret and obvious. There's literally a lot of mileage in bringing a selection of objets/artifacts on a trip. The English Shaman will choose.
Tiny Acts MW22 11/04/22
I wore the ceremonial salt-dough bead necklace with the beeswax cross. I carried an energy ball warm in my pocket wrapped in tin foil. After several miles of walking in lovely sunshine I found a sheltered churchyard/graveyard and sat on a bench to open my sketchbook. I poured desiccated coconut onto the graphite circle and arranged it a bit like the moon surface, then rolled the energy ball on it to coat it. When I ate it I felt much better than I did before and gently walked home again.
I wore the ceremonial salt-dough bead necklace with the beeswax cross. I carried an energy ball warm in my pocket wrapped in tin foil. After several miles of walking in lovely sunshine I found a sheltered churchyard/graveyard and sat on a bench to open my sketchbook. I poured desiccated coconut onto the graphite circle and arranged it a bit like the moon surface, then rolled the energy ball on it to coat it. When I ate it I felt much better than I did before and gently walked home again.
Tiny Acts MW21 01/04/22
Making more of a mess by trying to make less of a mess but with good intentions. Is it an angel or a cat or a fish? I burnt my hair by accident and probably ruined a teaspoon. But this small ritual felt important for its spiritual realisation. Healing, connecting with cosmic realm via the physical organic one.
Making more of a mess by trying to make less of a mess but with good intentions. Is it an angel or a cat or a fish? I burnt my hair by accident and probably ruined a teaspoon. But this small ritual felt important for its spiritual realisation. Healing, connecting with cosmic realm via the physical organic one.
Tiny Acts MW20 25/03/22
I was very grateful to receive a box of beeswax the previous week. I melted it and used it to heal and bring fragments together in the garden using a grid of boxes of my bits and pieces.
I was very grateful to receive a box of beeswax the previous week. I melted it and used it to heal and bring fragments together in the garden using a grid of boxes of my bits and pieces.
Tiny Acts MW19 18/03/22
I am 50 years old today. Tested negative for COVID. Went for a performative walk in the spring sunshine with some of my presents. Silver box. Graphite putty. Sat by the river and rolled small beads of graphite, enjoying the shadows made by sunlight, and knitted with grey embroidery thread. I got pricked by a nettle.
I am 50 years old today. Tested negative for COVID. Went for a performative walk in the spring sunshine with some of my presents. Silver box. Graphite putty. Sat by the river and rolled small beads of graphite, enjoying the shadows made by sunlight, and knitted with grey embroidery thread. I got pricked by a nettle.
Tiny Acts MW18 12/03/22
I had COVID so this is a particularly tiny act, making salt-dough beads.
I had COVID so this is a particularly tiny act, making salt-dough beads.
Tiny Acts MW17 05/03/22
Biting onto the glue tube to push out the glue. Egg blown into graphite. Mix it. Capture it. Creation in a tiny world. New magic.Use the velvet in the mouth to protect from the taste of toxic glue.
Biting onto the glue tube to push out the glue. Egg blown into graphite. Mix it. Capture it. Creation in a tiny world. New magic.Use the velvet in the mouth to protect from the taste of toxic glue.
Tiny Acts MW16 25/02/22
I'd been wanting to do this act since last Friday. I had already drilled holes in the plastic globe and checked the turkey baster nozzle would fit in the hole. But today held a few surprises, mainly about the start and finish of the Act. It began as I left the front door because I wore the globe full of graphite powder all the way to the park. It was a beautifully sunny day and the powder was dry and safe in the globe. One end of the white material was cut into strips that fitted into the lower holes and the other end tucked into my pocket. I hung the globe from my coat button and it felt like a pocket watch. Once at the park I got the river water out of the trolley and set it on a picnic table. It was still in its glass jar from TA MW9. I spooned it into the baster and into the globe. I hadn't realised the reflections would make it hard to guess how much water I'd put in and I'm still not sure how much leaked out to run down the white material. That seemed to be the preparation at the park and then the performance began as I walked home, the globe still attached to me, filled with water and graphite. It bounced against my belly as I walked. The graphite and water mixed well. Some mixture came out of the top entry hole. The globe became a dark planet with many reflections, still weeping down the white, drawing floating droplets and staining the exit points.
I'd been wanting to do this act since last Friday. I had already drilled holes in the plastic globe and checked the turkey baster nozzle would fit in the hole. But today held a few surprises, mainly about the start and finish of the Act. It began as I left the front door because I wore the globe full of graphite powder all the way to the park. It was a beautifully sunny day and the powder was dry and safe in the globe. One end of the white material was cut into strips that fitted into the lower holes and the other end tucked into my pocket. I hung the globe from my coat button and it felt like a pocket watch. Once at the park I got the river water out of the trolley and set it on a picnic table. It was still in its glass jar from TA MW9. I spooned it into the baster and into the globe. I hadn't realised the reflections would make it hard to guess how much water I'd put in and I'm still not sure how much leaked out to run down the white material. That seemed to be the preparation at the park and then the performance began as I walked home, the globe still attached to me, filled with water and graphite. It bounced against my belly as I walked. The graphite and water mixed well. Some mixture came out of the top entry hole. The globe became a dark planet with many reflections, still weeping down the white, drawing floating droplets and staining the exit points.
Tiny Acts MW15 18/02/22
Childcare durational performance. Getting out of/going with/surviving panicky situations. The bag is stuck on the wire above the house.
Storm Eunice today so Sandy and I stayed in. Half term, called off the singing lesson and Sandy's swimming lesson. I had a plan for TA 15 but because of the terrible weather I changed my mind at the last minute and made the digital sketch into a paper globe, filled it with water-soluble graphite powder and threaded it on a length of the wool from Salty Soapy and Woolly. I tied it to a paper bag for a kite to make the most of the storm wind. The rain would do something to the graphite and the graphite would shake out of the globe. I wasn't certain.
Childcare durational performance. Getting out of/going with/surviving panicky situations. The bag is stuck on the wire above the house.
Storm Eunice today so Sandy and I stayed in. Half term, called off the singing lesson and Sandy's swimming lesson. I had a plan for TA 15 but because of the terrible weather I changed my mind at the last minute and made the digital sketch into a paper globe, filled it with water-soluble graphite powder and threaded it on a length of the wool from Salty Soapy and Woolly. I tied it to a paper bag for a kite to make the most of the storm wind. The rain would do something to the graphite and the graphite would shake out of the globe. I wasn't certain.
Tiny Acts MW14 11/02/22
Sylvie breath caught. I just sang quietly to the River Ise or Swansbrook, catching the breath condensation among the words coiled in the transparent globe hung round my neck. I was witnessed. I had my eyes closed. The act of writing the words out on the continuous paper strip/edge helped me to remember in the moment.
Sylvie breath caught. I just sang quietly to the River Ise or Swansbrook, catching the breath condensation among the words coiled in the transparent globe hung round my neck. I was witnessed. I had my eyes closed. The act of writing the words out on the continuous paper strip/edge helped me to remember in the moment.
Tiny Acts MW13 04/02/22
Diagrammatic workings on the frame, introducing mirror phone case, mirror sphere. Introducing paper chains diagram words, wreath frame.....a collaborative act? Bringing together thinking and making.
Diagrammatic workings on the frame, introducing mirror phone case, mirror sphere. Introducing paper chains diagram words, wreath frame.....a collaborative act? Bringing together thinking and making.
Tiny Acts MW12 27/01/22
So excited to have had a new dynamic to my Tiny Act 12 by travelling to London by train to "perform" it to good friends.
I opened a large velvet globe to reveal the label and round mirror, and then the smaller black velvet globe to reveal a transparent globe. Inside that was a picture of moon phases, in which was wrapped 7 buttons. 4 of these were moons in various phases, 2 were plain white and one black. I handed them to each of my friends. One drew moon things on hers, the others wanted to take them home and consider them. There was mostly silence as I revealed the moons which I took as a sign the performance was working/well received. We all felt thankful to be a part of the Act and thankful to be together, at a time when life is uncertain, time is uncertain. Everywhen.
So excited to have had a new dynamic to my Tiny Act 12 by travelling to London by train to "perform" it to good friends.
I opened a large velvet globe to reveal the label and round mirror, and then the smaller black velvet globe to reveal a transparent globe. Inside that was a picture of moon phases, in which was wrapped 7 buttons. 4 of these were moons in various phases, 2 were plain white and one black. I handed them to each of my friends. One drew moon things on hers, the others wanted to take them home and consider them. There was mostly silence as I revealed the moons which I took as a sign the performance was working/well received. We all felt thankful to be a part of the Act and thankful to be together, at a time when life is uncertain, time is uncertain. Everywhen.
Tiny Acts MW11 21/01/22
Another different and exciting dynamic to todays Tiny Act. I thought I was going to just put up lots of mirrors among the trees and thread them together with graphite ribbon. But I decided at the last moment that I'd take the globes from the Dr Dee dress. Luckily one of these is mirrored. Another is transparent.
So I wore them according to my diagram for the Dee Dress and walked to the trees. Sophie's remote presence was interlaced with mine as participant, performer, curator, documenter. A layering. A nod to Everywhen as reflections reflected more reflections than were present. The English Shaman. My breath on the mirrored globe. Non-linear time.
Another different and exciting dynamic to todays Tiny Act. I thought I was going to just put up lots of mirrors among the trees and thread them together with graphite ribbon. But I decided at the last moment that I'd take the globes from the Dr Dee dress. Luckily one of these is mirrored. Another is transparent.
So I wore them according to my diagram for the Dee Dress and walked to the trees. Sophie's remote presence was interlaced with mine as participant, performer, curator, documenter. A layering. A nod to Everywhen as reflections reflected more reflections than were present. The English Shaman. My breath on the mirrored globe. Non-linear time.
Tiny Acts MW10 14/01/22
This morning I wanted to use what I had in the attic and reference the entanglement and diagrams from recent Laalaas discussions. I wanted to use the wool from Salty Soapy & Woolly several years ago. Wool that we'd all used together, a symbol of sharing and exchange, wound round the trees again. And I wanted to use the wassail bowl from Future Queen of Apples and a mirror to reflect the trees. In an effort to find a round mirror I took apart the shaving mirror and placed it in the wassail bowl. I filled the bowl with hot cider and walked it, steaming in the cold morning air, to the park, to the copse of trees. I linked the bowl to the trees in a web of wool then poured the cider at the roots of the 5 trees before winding the wool back up on a twig found in the clearing.
This morning I wanted to use what I had in the attic and reference the entanglement and diagrams from recent Laalaas discussions. I wanted to use the wool from Salty Soapy & Woolly several years ago. Wool that we'd all used together, a symbol of sharing and exchange, wound round the trees again. And I wanted to use the wassail bowl from Future Queen of Apples and a mirror to reflect the trees. In an effort to find a round mirror I took apart the shaving mirror and placed it in the wassail bowl. I filled the bowl with hot cider and walked it, steaming in the cold morning air, to the park, to the copse of trees. I linked the bowl to the trees in a web of wool then poured the cider at the roots of the 5 trees before winding the wool back up on a twig found in the clearing.
Tiny Acts MW9 07/01/22
I dropped melted candle wax through the holes in the music box card of the song "Barbara Allen" into the river water I collected. I kept the resulting wax forms in a box.
I dropped melted candle wax through the holes in the music box card of the song "Barbara Allen" into the river water I collected. I kept the resulting wax forms in a box.
Tiny Acts MW8 31/12/21
I was on parent duty so I took Sandy along for Tiny Act MW8. I dressed in black smart trousers, white tie-neck blouse and long black wool coat. I took with me a glass jar on a rod, held on with macrame knots, and I had made a paper globe bigger than my head. It was made from discarded music box mechanism card, plain white paper and a sheet from the Hawkshead Mummers play (Pace Egging). I used water soluble graphite to scribble a moon surface on the globe and prepped hidden eye holes and neck hole, the neck to be fastened with straw coloured satin ribbon.I also borrowed back the metal pail from Sandy's bedroom, somewhat optimistically. My aim was to take the moon to fish for river water from the Ise.
The reality was that I had to be a parent at the same time and make sure that Sandy was safe and happy.
In an ideal world, I could split myself in two: be at home with Sandy or playing in the park with Sandy while Other Me did the art with silence and focus, listening to the materials' responses. My commute was light-hearted and chatty and I got Sandy to take a few photos, which she enjoyed.
We went to Castle Fields with the promise of playtime in the playground after attempting to gather some water from the Ise. The rod wouldn't reach, which we chatted about, but we really enjoyed the noise/music of the river, the fresh air and the copse of trees that we both love. Sandy made me feel distracted, noisy, unfocused, loved and safe. After time with the swings and roundabout we agreed to try the Ise at Croyland Park with the promise of more playground equipment. I had great success on the little stone bridge there, scooping 4 jarfuls into the pail.
The moon-graphited globe got a bit wet, which was my intention, making the graphite smear and run and create more interesting drawings.
I think there might be more mileage in river water or rain water and graphite on paper.
I put the globe over my head and fished another jarful out of the Ise. This was the great moment, with Sandy taking photos.
The sun came out and we moved to the climbing frame and swing where Sandy played with another little girl for a while before we went home for lunch. We had a wonderful afternoon together.
I was on parent duty so I took Sandy along for Tiny Act MW8. I dressed in black smart trousers, white tie-neck blouse and long black wool coat. I took with me a glass jar on a rod, held on with macrame knots, and I had made a paper globe bigger than my head. It was made from discarded music box mechanism card, plain white paper and a sheet from the Hawkshead Mummers play (Pace Egging). I used water soluble graphite to scribble a moon surface on the globe and prepped hidden eye holes and neck hole, the neck to be fastened with straw coloured satin ribbon.I also borrowed back the metal pail from Sandy's bedroom, somewhat optimistically. My aim was to take the moon to fish for river water from the Ise.
The reality was that I had to be a parent at the same time and make sure that Sandy was safe and happy.
In an ideal world, I could split myself in two: be at home with Sandy or playing in the park with Sandy while Other Me did the art with silence and focus, listening to the materials' responses. My commute was light-hearted and chatty and I got Sandy to take a few photos, which she enjoyed.
We went to Castle Fields with the promise of playtime in the playground after attempting to gather some water from the Ise. The rod wouldn't reach, which we chatted about, but we really enjoyed the noise/music of the river, the fresh air and the copse of trees that we both love. Sandy made me feel distracted, noisy, unfocused, loved and safe. After time with the swings and roundabout we agreed to try the Ise at Croyland Park with the promise of more playground equipment. I had great success on the little stone bridge there, scooping 4 jarfuls into the pail.
The moon-graphited globe got a bit wet, which was my intention, making the graphite smear and run and create more interesting drawings.
I think there might be more mileage in river water or rain water and graphite on paper.
I put the globe over my head and fished another jarful out of the Ise. This was the great moment, with Sandy taking photos.
The sun came out and we moved to the climbing frame and swing where Sandy played with another little girl for a while before we went home for lunch. We had a wonderful afternoon together.
Tiny Acts MW7 23/12/21
I used a wreath frame to hang glockenspiel keys and plaited straw-coloured ribbons to hang it from a length of metal tube. I wanted to take it to the River Ise to see if it would make music. As I walked through the town in my long black wool coat it made music all the way. Nobody took any notice but that gave me more confidence. The notes seemed to ring out familiar Christmas carols. Once I got to the river in Croyland Park I dropped the keys into the river, which silenced them, and the babble of the river rose to eclipse the chimes. So I took it to the trees and out through the park to the church, which was sadly closed. I would have loved to show the vicar and pay respect to the religion that loves this time of year. It would be so easy to repeat this pageant although I find the metal keys so useful back on the glockenspiel.
I used a wreath frame to hang glockenspiel keys and plaited straw-coloured ribbons to hang it from a length of metal tube. I wanted to take it to the River Ise to see if it would make music. As I walked through the town in my long black wool coat it made music all the way. Nobody took any notice but that gave me more confidence. The notes seemed to ring out familiar Christmas carols. Once I got to the river in Croyland Park I dropped the keys into the river, which silenced them, and the babble of the river rose to eclipse the chimes. So I took it to the trees and out through the park to the church, which was sadly closed. I would have loved to show the vicar and pay respect to the religion that loves this time of year. It would be so easy to repeat this pageant although I find the metal keys so useful back on the glockenspiel.
Tiny Acts MW6 17/12/21
The 6th Tiny Act, the 6th egg in the half dozen was a full egg covered in silver foil, placed on the shelf of a mirror sconce, worn like a mask. A small mirror was placed on a tree (silver birch?) and the reflective surfaces held up to each other, opening up an infinity of concentric reflections in the park landscape. Finally, water from a tiny wine bottle was poured over the egg, a last attempt at shiny baptism, a ritual, a wet eye, a release of tears.
This felt very purposeful, meditative, yet playful. A delight in the landscape, sunlight, window of time.
I felt like I was going to work. A pursuit of great value and gravity, helped by my formal dress in black trousers and jumper, long back wool coat.
The 6th Tiny Act, the 6th egg in the half dozen was a full egg covered in silver foil, placed on the shelf of a mirror sconce, worn like a mask. A small mirror was placed on a tree (silver birch?) and the reflective surfaces held up to each other, opening up an infinity of concentric reflections in the park landscape. Finally, water from a tiny wine bottle was poured over the egg, a last attempt at shiny baptism, a ritual, a wet eye, a release of tears.
This felt very purposeful, meditative, yet playful. A delight in the landscape, sunlight, window of time.
I felt like I was going to work. A pursuit of great value and gravity, helped by my formal dress in black trousers and jumper, long back wool coat.
Tiny Acts MW5 10/12/21
Very very cold, bright sun. When does the act start? With the journey? When I say? For today it was after I posted the Christmas card to my uncle. There are shades, a spectrum of startedness.
The sounds of nature around me, the rushing wind, the wind in the trees, the river, the birds, going about their business with their own complexities of life.
I was watched by them and passersby as I meditated, dressed formally in black, at a bench facing across the river to the path on the other side. I held the whitened egg on which I'd written
- working with mistakes
- moon ovaries
- thoughts as wax likenesses
and the sea salt fell reluctantly out of the egg onto my lap.
Very very cold, bright sun. When does the act start? With the journey? When I say? For today it was after I posted the Christmas card to my uncle. There are shades, a spectrum of startedness.
The sounds of nature around me, the rushing wind, the wind in the trees, the river, the birds, going about their business with their own complexities of life.
I was watched by them and passersby as I meditated, dressed formally in black, at a bench facing across the river to the path on the other side. I held the whitened egg on which I'd written
- working with mistakes
- moon ovaries
- thoughts as wax likenesses
and the sea salt fell reluctantly out of the egg onto my lap.
Tiny Acts MW4 03/12/21
Quite pressured, quite over-designed, quite understaffed, I covered my face in home-made white face paint, face moon-scape and looked like a very old woman until I added the graphite shading and then it was a race against time before all the lumps dropped off. I was troubled by the loss of my wool overcoat and had to settle for leather. Sandy couldn't be dragged away from a phonecall with my mum and so my plan to involve her and get her help fell flat. It is Christmas after all and the tree needs to be decorated. Unsupervised 6-year-old with baubles and fairy lights. Getting stuck behind the tree. But I lit my egg candle and finally braved the outdoors: first the back garden, then the front garden.
Thanks to Sandy I finally had a really good picture but I'm not sure who saw. Then it was another race against time to get the face paint off.
Quite pressured, quite over-designed, quite understaffed, I covered my face in home-made white face paint, face moon-scape and looked like a very old woman until I added the graphite shading and then it was a race against time before all the lumps dropped off. I was troubled by the loss of my wool overcoat and had to settle for leather. Sandy couldn't be dragged away from a phonecall with my mum and so my plan to involve her and get her help fell flat. It is Christmas after all and the tree needs to be decorated. Unsupervised 6-year-old with baubles and fairy lights. Getting stuck behind the tree. But I lit my egg candle and finally braved the outdoors: first the back garden, then the front garden.
Thanks to Sandy I finally had a really good picture but I'm not sure who saw. Then it was another race against time to get the face paint off.
Tiny Acts MW3 26/11/21
"Breaking role" or staying firm during performance. How to not talk to people "as you."
The Tiny Act is the reveal, bit by bit. The wax didn't fill the whole egg like I hoped but it was a great colour and made a really nice shape, like a smooth and perfect dent, a smooth whirlpool.
The first throw made the egg strike the singing bowl completely by accident and it resonated for a long time. Another time a passerby asked what I was doing and I found it really hard to explain. I could only explain the act, not the intention because I can't put that into words. The vocalisation made me realise that any explanation was either no good or nowhere near enough.
The melting red wax enabled me to finish a piece I conceived several years ago: the fish tins. I have no idea what the fish tins are about. It just came from a vision.
"Breaking role" or staying firm during performance. How to not talk to people "as you."
The Tiny Act is the reveal, bit by bit. The wax didn't fill the whole egg like I hoped but it was a great colour and made a really nice shape, like a smooth and perfect dent, a smooth whirlpool.
The first throw made the egg strike the singing bowl completely by accident and it resonated for a long time. Another time a passerby asked what I was doing and I found it really hard to explain. I could only explain the act, not the intention because I can't put that into words. The vocalisation made me realise that any explanation was either no good or nowhere near enough.
The melting red wax enabled me to finish a piece I conceived several years ago: the fish tins. I have no idea what the fish tins are about. It just came from a vision.
Tiny Acts MW2 19/11/21
This act of blowing the moon egg and filling it with wax was like a tiny film set or a cookery programme. It sparked a conversation about the different sorts of audience, put to paper in a concentric circle diagram of participation and audiences.
This act of blowing the moon egg and filling it with wax was like a tiny film set or a cookery programme. It sparked a conversation about the different sorts of audience, put to paper in a concentric circle diagram of participation and audiences.
Tiny Acts MW 1 12/11/21
In small cracks between work, during work, I covered an egg in Tippex. Just out of shot in MS Teams meetings. It stayed alone in its egg carton, drying between layers.
On Thursday I drew the moon's surface on it in water soluble pencils. I lined its egg carton with black velvet, an offcut from my black velvet Dr. Dee dress that hangs in the living room.
On Friday I put the egg moon/moon egg into my lunar capsule maquette and tied it shut. I used wool still wound round sticks from when I first moved to Wellingborough and Laalaas performed Salty Soapy & Woolly in Croyland Park. I bound the wool around the little wooden capsule and opened the attic window to see whether this would be a suitable exit hatch.
The act of looking out of this particular window with purpose was in itself a special moment. After so many weeks and months, years, of a busy mind and non-stop activity, I took time to observe and enjoy the fresh air. The moss patches. The texture and temperature of the slate tiles. The view of the distant landscape. The proximity to my chimney pot and the sky. The top of my house. My house that I am selling to move back to a place where art doesn't feel like a mental illness to be ashamed of.
I saw people coming back from shopping. Walking their dogs. Coming out from their front doors. They glanced at me but didn't stop to look. I felt free up there, as free as Rapunzel.
Quiet.
I rolled an empty egg shell down the roof, which had a much gentler pitch than I thought. The egg shell smashed on the path below.
I lowered the lunar capsule very slowly and carefully out of the window and let it slide bit by bit to the edge of the roof. It slid over the edge and out of my sight and I lowered the wool further.
The stick bobbin of wool was easy to wedge under a shelf so I walked down the hatch ladder and the stairs and went out through the front door to see whether the capsule had landed. It hadn't: it was dangling nicely, half way down the house. I went back to the attic to continue lowering it slowly on the wool until the line went slack.
When I got back down stairs the capsule had landed in a bush in the front garden. I brought it to the garden path where I untied it and took a look at the unbroken egg. It had landed safely. The moon to the earth.
This tiny act was surprisingly emotional. Old works were recycled and meshed with new ideas. Mrs Bloom's Lunar Capsule from the honeymoon of my first marriage. Salty Soapy & Woolly from a wonderful and gentle performance with Laalaas. My recent obsession with doing impatient drawings of the moon on buttons. My first house. Moving house soon. The earth to the moon. The moon to the earth.
In small cracks between work, during work, I covered an egg in Tippex. Just out of shot in MS Teams meetings. It stayed alone in its egg carton, drying between layers.
On Thursday I drew the moon's surface on it in water soluble pencils. I lined its egg carton with black velvet, an offcut from my black velvet Dr. Dee dress that hangs in the living room.
On Friday I put the egg moon/moon egg into my lunar capsule maquette and tied it shut. I used wool still wound round sticks from when I first moved to Wellingborough and Laalaas performed Salty Soapy & Woolly in Croyland Park. I bound the wool around the little wooden capsule and opened the attic window to see whether this would be a suitable exit hatch.
The act of looking out of this particular window with purpose was in itself a special moment. After so many weeks and months, years, of a busy mind and non-stop activity, I took time to observe and enjoy the fresh air. The moss patches. The texture and temperature of the slate tiles. The view of the distant landscape. The proximity to my chimney pot and the sky. The top of my house. My house that I am selling to move back to a place where art doesn't feel like a mental illness to be ashamed of.
I saw people coming back from shopping. Walking their dogs. Coming out from their front doors. They glanced at me but didn't stop to look. I felt free up there, as free as Rapunzel.
Quiet.
I rolled an empty egg shell down the roof, which had a much gentler pitch than I thought. The egg shell smashed on the path below.
I lowered the lunar capsule very slowly and carefully out of the window and let it slide bit by bit to the edge of the roof. It slid over the edge and out of my sight and I lowered the wool further.
The stick bobbin of wool was easy to wedge under a shelf so I walked down the hatch ladder and the stairs and went out through the front door to see whether the capsule had landed. It hadn't: it was dangling nicely, half way down the house. I went back to the attic to continue lowering it slowly on the wool until the line went slack.
When I got back down stairs the capsule had landed in a bush in the front garden. I brought it to the garden path where I untied it and took a look at the unbroken egg. It had landed safely. The moon to the earth.
This tiny act was surprisingly emotional. Old works were recycled and meshed with new ideas. Mrs Bloom's Lunar Capsule from the honeymoon of my first marriage. Salty Soapy & Woolly from a wonderful and gentle performance with Laalaas. My recent obsession with doing impatient drawings of the moon on buttons. My first house. Moving house soon. The earth to the moon. The moon to the earth.
