The Story of the Book Bag

I ​have been making book bags. Not because I think this is a product that the world needs. The world doesn’t need any more products. We have enough. I’ve been making book bags because I’ve been coming back into relationship with reading. And beginning to notice what a critical skill it is for my mental health.

Those two words, mental health were not something I grew up with. Its taken me many many years to allow them to hold any validity for me. I would hear those words and think of the younger generation as frail, soft, unable to have an innate sense of resilience. But the longer I have sat with it, the more I am coming to realise that this new generation are asking for something else. They are demanding more than just shutting up and putting up. And in asking, they are giving permission to those of us who were not raised with any  or at least very little awareness of mental health to begin prioritising it.

What my generation (kids of the 80s) did get was a world without the internet. We had screens. My Popa would lament at the hours I would sit glued to cartoons, so I can’t say we didn’t have screens. But we didn’t have the internet and we had the generation of adults like my grandparents who knew the value of sitting around a table and sharing stories. 

​F​or 20 years now I have made and sold creations and art and I am constantly questioning why. What is it for? Who is it for? How do we liberate ourselves from a capitalist society when we are so entirely emmersied in it? How do we create and make and celebrate and ritualise our culture for connection and not simply competition. Where is the balance?

At the end of the day, it is for me. Making things keeps me sane – to create, to use my hands, to see an idea come into a form.

​Two things have been constant companions for restoring my mental health these past couple of years since the massive transition that we all faced in the Summer of 2019/20 and are continuing to move through – cooking and reading.

Cooking and reading became my meditation.

The Book Bag is a celebration of that connection.

Watch this space for a new character in the story to emerge soon.

Sending love

Sarah

Ties That Bind

How do we define our sense of belonging?

And what happens in those moments when an absence is felt or a new presence enters?IMG_20151027_142726

The death of my grandfather who blessed me with afternoons spent painting in his shed drew these questions into sharp focus. I suddenly became aware of the preciousness of seemingly mundane objects and ordinary moments shared, which later inspired the composition of Self Portrait (oil on canvas).

The notion of belonging re-emerged when I moved from my home town of Melbourne to pursue the long held dream of living in ‘the country’.

Suddenly everything was unfamiliar and the long process of taking root began through moments of repetition and re-tracing experience until they became familiar; a street corner that was visited every morning on my way to work, a favoured route on my bike, the slow familiarity with shop keepers and neighbours.

During this time, almost daily, a group of birds began to visit the electrical wires outside my window. For the next 9 months I began recording their visits. I wanted to know what their interaction would sound like if their movement across the wires was translated into notes on a page.

What was the effect on the whole when one left or came, when they jumped about, gathered in groups or sat patiently out on their own?

More and more, I have begun to treasure the fleeting and mundane moments.IMG_20151026_124724

Sharing a cup of tea, a walk or a meal.

In order to explore this idea I asked those people who have been birds on my wire to choose objects of significance to them and used these as inspiration to continue the series of still lives, each offering a portrait of a treasured soul in my life. Through these works I have attempted to capture the value of simple objects, symbols of how we come to understand ourselves and express who we are to the outside.

Ties that Bind will be on exhibition at Segue, Stratford Courthouse until Saturday 21 November 

 

Upcoming Exhibition

Moving from Melbourne to Gippsland two years ago in October has altered the way I perceive people, place and the fragility of what we perceive as permanence and the present moment. This exhibition will mark that journey by exploring the threads and ties that bind us through video installation and a series of paintings depicting our connections to each other and the temporal nature of our place in the present.
Segue – Stratford Courthouse
26 October – 19 November

still life

 

Birds on a Wire

Last week I sat down for a morning meditation and looking out the window noticed a group of birds on the electrical wires outside. As they moved about amongst themselves, some coming and some going, they began to resemble the notes on a page of music. I filmed them to later translate their movement into a composition and while sitting down to view the footage at the piano was struck by how fleeting a moment in time and particular combination of elements (be they family, friends, feelings) are. The void that was left as one bird flew off, left a space for something new to emerge and the various connections and disconnections as they jumped from one wire to the next released the monotony that would have ensued if they had sat still and isolated in their own little world. Now each time I look up at birds on the wires and wonder – what music are you creating up there?

Still Life Set up Sunday

Had a lovely lazy Sunday down at the local bowls club followed by some still life set up time – working with the themes of object, weight and the experience of time and memory. Why do some objects gather soo much value while others we are happy to leave by the side? These kitchen scales were used by my sister, cousin and myself to bake scones at Nana’s. I often see similar sets of scales in op shops – and somehow think – although identical – they’re not the same as mine!IMG_20141114_184307 IMG_20141116_202944

On Still Life

I heard a quote today (and I am usually fastidious about referencing all quotes- a habit from University days), but tonight I am content to paraphrase;

It is what people make, not what they say or do, that tells you about humanity. Study what they make.

I have made aIMG_20140824_204128 study of what people make and never had much patience for what people say and a terrible memory of what they do. It was an extremely gratifying TV bite and was one ingredient of today that got me back to the canvas. The others were rain, the prospect of the working week and that indescribable sense of anticipation, which sometimes masks its self as anxiety that come when an artist has spent little time expressing herself and too much time avoiding.

This week has come to an end with a great deal of reflection. Having lost a dear friend.

She made something of her life and it was a privilege to have been a small part of it. As in the last still life (Self Portrait), this piece features objects of significance to my past; my grandfathers camera I inherited, a tin can – the same my grandmother would put on the stove to boil an egg and limes from the garden where I last lived. Peg, my friend who passed away last week, was my next door neighbour. I gardened for her and she nick-named me Green Boots, for the bright green Crocs I would wear when I spent time in her garden. We treasured every minute and didn’t waste a crumb or sip of cuppa tea together. She was everything a woman of her generation was meant to be.

noname

 

Underpainting – Still Life

At this stage I’ve completed most of the shadow work and under-painting, with some detail started on the camera, string and bowl.

This camera was inherited from a collection that my Grandfather had build over many years. The collection moved from shelves inside his house to needing its very own outhouse at the back of their old property.

He worked as a projectionist and later a technician at the local Tech. He could fix anything. Speakers, electrical circuits… you name it. His love of gadgets and waste not want not attitude of both my Nana and Popa have inspired this series of still life. The upturned bowl was one of a series that were used for the Christmas pudding each year. The granddaughters inherited them in hope of keeping the tradition alive.