The series statement reads “I see grids as symbols of order and stability.  An early pioneer of computer generative art in the 60s, Vera Molnar added a small element of code that introduced randomness into her computer plotter’s algorithms, resulting in disrupted grid lines and distorted squares.  Inspired by Molnar’s geometric linear work, in 2020 I developed a stitched square unit which I’ve used many times since.  “Out Of Order 3”  is from a series of works prompted by breakdowns in the internationally agreed systems of rules-based order that shape political, social and trading networks currently under pressure from social, political, financial and technological change.”   

To me, a grid respresents a framework of normality, diagrammatic patterns of normal human behaviour, within our families, and at community, national and international levels. Many in today’s world are lamenting the loss of the international rules based order that grew after WWII, but disintegration of patterns is happening at all levels, and such disruptions have an unsettling effect on each of us.

#1 didn’t make the cut where I entered it, #2 has not been seen anywhere yet, but both will be included in my fortcoming solo exhibition next January.

In the past few years there have been many attacks around the world on ‘normal’ people just going about their business, including the pirate attacks on ships sailing through the Straits of Hormuz, the Russian invasion of Ukraine, the dreadful assault of Hamas on Israel, and racial and ethnic minorities in many parts of the world. Some are loudly voiced politico-economic outbreaks without any military elements, but highly disruptive nevertheless. Plus, in many countries there are so many personal scandals in the most powerful political leaders in our daily news, that I myself know several people who refuse to watch TV or listen to radio for news, and only read as much online or in newspapers that they feel gives them the bare bones of what’s going on, because they feel it’s all unhealthily distressing. I know what they mean, and quite often I pick up my mobile phone to play solitaire or similar while listening to the latest reports, without watching the latest gruesome video. I grew up in the days of radio before TV came to Australia in 1956, and so this feels quite normal and often preferable to me.

So far this “Out of Order” series shows some increasing irregularity, but now, as I look back at the beginning of August, I realise it’s pretty slight, really, compared with the huge disruptions we’ve all been experiencing this year in our various grid structures of living. Many commentators expect greater impacts ahead, perhaps even culminating in a world recession. The sabres are rattling again on the 80th anniversary of the nuclear bomb being dropped on Hiroshima… As I write the US president is voicing how he’d like to meet with the Russian and the Ukrainian presidents, so international pattern disruptions are developing very fast, and I think my grids need to be much more distorted!

My collection of pinned images on Pinterest includes a board titled ‘Grids!’ because this concept of structures in which we live and operate has become important to me. There are several artists whose work I admire, such as Vera Molnar of course, Takahiko Hayashi, Lari Washburn, Giles Bettison, Agnes Martin, Shane Drinkwater and more; but just this morning I found a painter, Dustin D Smith, whose work really resonated with me. This short video https://www.instagram.com/p/C8kGr4WJ4ah/ is a generous insight into his process, and I immediately began to think of in terms of fabric+paint+stitch…

On our trip to Egypt in 2008, we came across many textiles to enjoy and buy – and we actually had to buy two new large suitcases to get all our stuff back home again! I have written before about the tentmaker artisans who stitch wonderful textile works initially developed as roll-up linings for the nomadic Bedouins’ tents, and now also available in sizes from cushions and table runners (aimed at tourists but with the same high standard of craftsmanship) up to 2m sq. works, of which we bought two. One serves as a beautiful bedspread in our guest bedroom, and the other hangs on our own bedroom wall where we enjoy it every day.

We were so lucky to be part of a group of Australians, all friends of Jenny Bowker who visited at the same time (her husband, Bob was then the Ambassador for Australia in the region, based in Cairo) They had been in that post for two of three years by then, and she had made herself familiar with the arts and crafts of the country and particular was clearly on good friend terms with crafsmen whose workshops and studios she took us to see and learn from.

There was a lot to learn, and one of the many fascinating places she took us was to The City of The Dead where an amazing number of people live in and amongst the tombs and mausoleums of the dead, in a busy city that functions within the whole complex of cemetries that extends for several miles.

I really wish I’d done more homework before going, but perhaps it’s best that what I saw and learned was overwhelming enough, anyway. In the long fairly empty streets between houses and tombs several men had set up a spinning (bicycle) wheel to twist hundreds of metres of yarn stretched out and back; and once spun and stretched to the required point, the two parts were eventually allowed to twirl back twining together under careful control to form cord hanks that are extensively used in appliqued designs trimming mens’ and womens’ garments.

Large hanks of these shiny rayon fibre cords are visible in the right hand section of this sewing notions shop:

Of course I brought a bunch of these beads back with no idea on how I’d use them! But I did sew a bunch of black ones to one quilt, for texture in a landscape foreground. Doing that, I noticed that the end of the bound fibres comes loose threatening to unravel fairly quickly, so I’m not sure how durable they are for clothing really, but then maybe they’re cheap enough to be frequently replaced. I’ve sometimes thought perhaps I should wear a few strings of them, but first spray them with sealer. while I’m thinking of them perhaps I should go and spray some right now…

(I provide direct links in my text where I think readers might like further information, and always welcome readers’ questions and comments in reply)

For some time I’ve mentioned in passing to various people that I’ve been thinking of making a new work for the wall alongside our dining area. For nearly 15 years I’ve been alternating these two, and I want a change that reflects some of my more recent work. I don’t dislike either of them, it’s just that I’d like something new.

In 2004, as I began a series of quilts, Ebb&Flow, inspired by the traditional patchwork pattern, Chinese Coins. Both of these works are from that series.

While I can see a certain landscape element in each of these abstract works, the next one definitely has more of that, while still being pretty abstract. So here’s today’s progress photo, featuring the segmented lines technique I’ve used many times now On a sand coloured fabric, the segmented lines and the lines of stitch to come are all in desert colours – which will make a welcome hole in my scrap collection!

As each line of segmented strips takes about 4 hours from the start of assembly, trimming, machine basting into place, and finally all the overstitching, so I know there’s still a long way to go until I feel I’ve done ‘enough’.

By that time I’ll probably have a better idea of the layering, possible method of quilting, and edge finishing. One thing’s pretty certain – the 5000 yard cone of machine sewing thread I bought to stitch it makes me pretty sure I won’t run out of thread!

(I provide direct links in my text where I think readers might like further information, and always welcome readers’ questions and comments in reply)

The iconic British embroiderer Constance Howard once said in a workshop I had the fortune to attend – “If you make a mistake or don’t like it, don’t unpick what you’ve done, just sew something more over the top of it.” Sooo very liberating – imperfections – work around them! Muslim artists and craftsmen always deliberately place at least one, but more likely several, mistakes in every work in acknowledgement that only Allah himself can create something perfect. You might have to look carefully to see them, but they will be there, whether it’s the mosaic lined dome in a mosque or a few stitches out of place in a richly coloured, exquisitely patterned silk carpet.

This morning I visited the website of an artist, Marlene Huissoud, onr of whose images on Pinterest intrigued me, and clicked to visit the site it was published on. At first I thought I was seeing a huge hand stitched buttonhole work, such as the beautiful works by @lindzeanne . As it turned out though, this artist’s work is produced by a lot of repetitive, very intense hand drawn mark making patterns, using black marker pen. Some of her works I relate to particularly, as any kind of decorative stitching is mark making with needle and thread, and I adore repetitive patterns, too.

In the text with some of her images was this statement “The A3 format is used to canalize the density of these simple geometric forms that I reproduce automatically with a simple pen. The mistakes of the hand process take an important part in this failure of reproducing geometric prints.”

Somehow related to this is the number of times I’ve been stitching along, quite absorbed in my podcast or recorded book, and suddenly realised that regularity has crept back into my stitching. Quite often in each of these two works I had to unpick a few stitches and re-sew them unevenly as planned. (Yes, yes Constance, I know, I know ….)

(I provide direct links in my text where I think readers might like further information, and always welcome readers’ questions and comments in reply)

Late yesterday I had the good news that the mask I made was accepted for the exhibition “Enmascaradas”, of theatre masks that opens at the Teatro Solis, Montevideo on August 14th next, a quite illustrious venue.

The statement reads: “Human cultures around the world include large, hairy, mythical ape-like creatures like this Boogeyman. Among them are Bigfoot and several others in North America; the Yowie is Australian; the Yeti, from the Himalayas. China has Jenin; Singapore, the Ape Man. Often seen as threatening to careless or mischievous children, these figures represent the deepest fears all humans have about the unknown and the uncontrollable in their lives.”

And of course, donning a mask enables our true face to be hidden, so that to the viewer we can ‘become’ a different personality or assume a new identity, as in a stage theatrical perfomance or a bank robbery 😉

The exhibition of 300 masks I saw earlier this year at the MAPI museum here in Montevideo included an impressive number of truly sinister, threatening masks, and those in particular really inspired me to go by that route, rather than the glamorous, elegant gorgeous path, or someting like an animal disguise – though of course, what I did make could be interpreted as a dangerous, threatening animal, I guess.