Stolen Moments

January has hardly touched down, before very soon having to take off again. Where is time flying to? I want to find out and go steal some of it back!

In my little corner, on the summer side of the world, I’ve been clay-making and preparing for my first market of the year.
Clocks, incense holders, little vases, many pendants and brooches keeping my mind ticking, hands busy and heart happy.

 
 The kiln is loaded, unloaded and loaded again.

Back to back bisque/glaze/bisque/glaze.

From raw matte earthenware to multi-hued glossiness.

a small selection

Soon, the final touches, putting everything together.
Nearly ready, a few more days to go.


During time out, I like to sit on our little front balcony and just be still. 
Look. Listen.
The sights and sounds of the forest mingle with the distant hum of everyday life.

A train rumbling, clickety-clack, carrying passengers to their destinations. Cars going hither and thither, their drivers have a sense of purpose, a reason for going. A dog barks down the way, sending out a call to his canine brothers and sisters in the neighbourhood. Some respond, some merely raise their heads, then return to their doggie dream world.

From my old wooden bench, birds of all colours and sizes whizz by, chattering as they go. They come to investigate and stay awhile, watching me.

They also like to sit upon the gargoyle perched high in one corner. He sits in stony silence, surveying the land.

My blue shadow, takes turns with the gargoyle to guard his domain.

  

Tall Eucalypts tower overhead. Heavily scented oils release from long, grey-green leaves in the warm morning air. Essences blend with the smell of dew damp earth.

In the morning, the sun captures the foliage, casting lively filigree patterns that dance on the wall.

And, the breeze plays with the leaves, chimes and flags.
I close my eyes.
Let my senses absorb.
Movement, flutterings and sounds. Changing, depending on the intensity of the wind’s breath.

Sometimes, the kookaburras will come down from the lofty tree tops and keep me company.
Laugh, kookaburra, laugh.

Micro moments in time. Pure energy all around.


With my senses recharged, I’m ready to continue my day.

♥

Visitors in the lull

My last market stall for the year is this weekend. In between unloading the kiln, packing my huge trusty market basket, packaging, pinning and preparing, I went out to say hello to some regular visitors.

They are always a cheery sight and make me smile with delight when they gather 'round.

We usually have many more. But, it's chilly here today and I think the rest of the clan are out foraging in the forest. I can hear them in the distance, singing and chirping away as the Kookaburras laugh alongside them.

So, I thought I'd take a few snaps and introduce you to the feathered few...

This little pair of Rainbow Lorikeets are the smallest, yet they chatter loudly and are incredibly bossy. Wearing their beautiful plumage with confidence and alacrity, they are endearing little clowns.

When we moved here, beautiful King Parrots were the first to welcome us with their friendly dispositions and sweet, gentle natures. I have a very soft spot for them.

Here, waiting in the wings (sorry, bad pun I know), is a wee Crimson Rosella. They will trill and call from the trees throughout the day, as shots of brilliant red and purple-blue blur past my studio window.

A ghostly apparition in the rafters - a Sulphur Crested Cockatoo. They are big, handsome, intelligent and very mischievous. And, did I say LOUD! We try not to encourage them in numbers as they can be very destructive too. But, oh, they are lovely to look at.

And introducing, Mrs Maggie.

Since we have known her, she has raised two generations. Last year, she had two babies to nurture and fuss over. And this year, she has three ever demanding youngsters to feed and show the ways of the magpie world.

Her most dependent fledgling. The other two are off with Dad somewhere in the neighbourhood - never too far away though.

When they grow older, and learn their songs, they will regale us with their wonderfully distinctive chorus. And, when the whole family gather for a session, it really is most impressive!

And so, it's time to say cheerio to my feathered friends and head back to the studio. There is still much to do - and, I've run out of ribbon for the ornaments!!

Bye for now ♥

From my brush

My mother used to lament, “I can never find any pens, they’re all in Vicki’s room!”

It’s true. From a young age, I was always doodling, sketching, drawing. If a pen happened to be in my presence, I would use it to draw something or other, mostly dogs and horses - especially their eyes. And so, they would gravitate back to my room.

Pens were my friends. Art was my solace.

Throughout school, I enjoyed creating art with all the mediums presented to us. Charcoal, pastels (chalk and oil), watercolours, acrylics, various mixed media, including fabric.

 fabric painted owls

For a short term in high school, we explored clay. I fell in love with the wonderfully earthy, tactile, sticky ‘mud’ that allowed me to lose myself and form whatever came from deep within. It hooked me and I loved it.

I remember sitting quietly, totally absorbed. And before I knew it, I had sculpted a horse head. I was indeed very proud of myself. The hundreds of horses I sketched came through my hands into 3D!

After it had been fired, and before I could take it home, my sculpt was stolen. Gone, but my first clay art not forgotten.

Repeated requests to my mother to buy clay and take my interest further were denied – “too messy and a waste of time, do something useful… and cleaner” she told me time and again.

Sadly, I placed my new found love for this medium on a high shelf. I had to say goodbye to my new friend… ‘til we'd meet again.

Fast forward to years later, in another time and place - my “Secret Hollow”. I began to study the birds around our property. And then, began to paint them. Mostly on native wood to complement them. Native birds on native wood.

Most of my work was sold to international tourists through a gift shop within a premier location in our beautiful country-coastal town. I often wondered what far off places my little birds flew to.
The brilliant violet-blue Splendid Blue (fairy) Wrens were most popular. These dear little birds were so loved in our little corner of South Western Australia.
The forest surrounding our cottage was home to many families of wrens. I enjoyed listening to their trilling little calls so much whilst we lived there.
It seemed perfectly natural to paint them. A kind of homage.

  Sacred Kingfisher

I painted most birds on wood pieces about 7.5cm by 10cm (3” x 4”). So, they were pretty small. At the time, I loved working in miniature.

spot the odd one out... a bandicoot!

I was also asked to paint lace bobbins for the local lace guild – and that’s tiny work!

Seriously, I don’t think my eyes would be up to painting that small anymore. But, it certainly was fun at the time. I challenged myself to see how small I actually could paint without losing detail. One of my trusty tiny brushes had only a few hairs in the ferrule!

 

 three photos of lace bobbin segmented to show an inch high Red-Winged Wren

I would also paint birds on clocks – a favourite, along with decorative plates.
 

Red Breasted Robins

I also painted portraits of animals. Many were at the request of dog clubs.

As an animal lover, I had a lot of joy painting them. And it was always so rewarding to hear the appreciative comments on how I captured their companions’ likeness.

I did get some odd requests for animals or birds cut out as doorstops. And, a carousel horse was a favourite project!

  

 commissions for a professional knife maker 

Hickory Dickory

I don’t paint a lot these days. Instead, an old 'friend' from long ago reawakened the memory of a dusty shelf, and reminded me that, “it's time to go on a different journey”. There were new paths to explore.

More on that in a future post.

*Apologies for the poor resolution in some images. They are scans of photos taken way back with my old camera – before the digital age :)