Old Leaf, New Leaf
In 2019 I did Jane Dunnewold’s Creative Strength Training. This ten month long course works with archetypes and artist blocks as well as process. It was this course that encouraged me to begin a daily blog so that I would keep regular art time. Unfortunately last year the web host sold out to another company that did not support the blog process I was following and it took me several months to find, learn and pick up from my blog posts. At that time between 3000 and 7000 people a week were visiting my blog. I have a long way to go to get back to that sort of exposure but I have a lot more control over what I can create on this website.
Archetypes as described by Caroline Myss are inner voices that we acquire as we go through life and can effect everything we do. Each archetypes has a positive and negative side but most of us relate more to the negative sides. You know that inner voice (the committee) that keeps telling you that your art will never be good enough? This piece was made during that time.
I particularly connected with the negative part of the Saboteur in my life. I realised that when I didn’t complete a project it was often through fear of criticism. If it isn’t finished you can’t criticise it. During that year I completed what I call the 30 year quilt - a hand quilted NZ Baltimore that, according to the embroidered date in one square, I began 30 years previously - but more about that another day.
Taro leaves are very large, quite fleshy leaves that have a large starchy root, much enjoyed by Pasifika people as a vegetable. I wanted to try and stitch on something larger in the leaf collection so I started off with a taro. I pressed the first leaf and when I took it out from under the rug where it had been drying, the leaf was quite thin and fragile. I decided to sandwich it between layers of gold organza and trap some bits and pieces inside. These pieces were representative of emotions and ideas that were trapped inside me. I began to stitch. As I stitched some of the leaf began to tear. The Saboteur inside my head said you are wasting your time Carol. I just kept stitching. The Saboteur said it will never amount to anything Carol. I just kept stitching and so it went until the leaf was finished. I felt the tears were like parts of me damaged inside the organza and added to the emotional impact of the leaf.
Then I decided to do a second leaf and experiment with using gel medium to seal the leaf - rather than organza. This time I wove a section in the middle. A piece of silver birch bark fell from one of our trees and I felt it was an omen so I included that also. The leaf looked young and vibrant in its glossy coat so I made some flower buds from silk cocoons to add as embellishment. This was my young leaf.
I mounted the leaves on black felt and put them away for a time. Imagine my surprise when I unrolled the package to find the young leaf had aged and now looked older than the young leaf. I am sure there is a lesson in life in there.
The small pictures above show the old leaf in process, the young leaf painted with gel and with its woven centre. The final two photos show the young leaf embellishments close up.
So this piece of art became not only a finished art work but a special talisman. It is five years old now and still has a power to move me when I take it out