There have been some materials sitting in my cupboard, calling out to me to make something from them. I have been trying not get distracted by them because I have far too much work to do. The first is a bunch of ti kouka leaves (from the iconic NZ cabbage tree) that nearly ended up in the rubbish. We had been looking after our friend's house while they were in the UK (Natalie and Brian) and the weather had been incredibly windy. When we called around, the outdoor furniture was spread across the yard and there were leaves everywhere. The moment before I put them in the bin, I took another look at them. I love the deep brown colour. They were even in length and in great condition. What a waste, I thought to myself! So I bundled them up with a tie and stored them away in my bottom drawer. Where incidently, is quite a collection of random things.
The second thing that was urging me to create was a bunch of korari. These are the flax flowers. On Phormium Tenax (botanical name for the swamp flax which is the one predominately used for weaving) the flax flowers are often strong and upright, but on Phormium Cookianum (mountain flax) the flowers are soft and papery and silvery brown. I had been walking up the top of Shakespeare Cliff at Cooks Beach and there were masses of them. Unable to resist I picked a heap of them, my mind racing with what I could do with them. When I got them home, it wasn't long before I was wondering what would happen if I combine the ti kouka leaves with the korari? I love textures. I love contrasts. I love new directions.
I had read in a fibre art book about a woman who said she has many pieces of work on the go at once and only ever works on a piece if she feels like it. To my "finish what you start" mentality, this was very foreign. So in an act of doing something very different for me, I put my "real work" aside and lay the ti kouka and korari in front of me. Add to that, a roll of copper wire (found in the cleanout of Avis's garage - Trevor reckons it was part of his Dad's collection and that would make it over 50 years old), put them together with whatu and you have bodice No 3.
I had no idea of what it was going to look like when I started but as I put the materials together I felt like it was happening without me needing to plan it. Kohai Grace (weaver from Wellington whose work I absolutely love) talks about it not being up to the artist to create the design, but the materials will tell the story. I feel like this is what happened. I love the finished piece - it is a simple, strong statement. A celebration of the female form. And a celebration of our natural resources. And it's a celebration of my creativity. It's one of the few times I have made something and felt absolutely satisfied. Usually I see shortcomings or think something could have been done differently. Sometimes the finished piece doesn't match what was in my mind. This bodice is a gift to myself - of knowing that I don't need to plan everything, that I have it within me to create something beautiful just by letting it happen. And I have learnt a valuable lesson - that sometimes the distractions ARE the real work.
I had no idea of what it was going to look like when I started but as I put the materials together I felt like it was happening without me needing to plan it. Kohai Grace (weaver from Wellington whose work I absolutely love) talks about it not being up to the artist to create the design, but the materials will tell the story. I feel like this is what happened. I love the finished piece - it is a simple, strong statement. A celebration of the female form. And a celebration of our natural resources. And it's a celebration of my creativity. It's one of the few times I have made something and felt absolutely satisfied. Usually I see shortcomings or think something could have been done differently. Sometimes the finished piece doesn't match what was in my mind. This bodice is a gift to myself - of knowing that I don't need to plan everything, that I have it within me to create something beautiful just by letting it happen. And I have learnt a valuable lesson - that sometimes the distractions ARE the real work.
