I am thinking about construction, development, dependence and interaction.
A doll.
Wool from a sheep. The wool was sheared. Washed. Transported. Carded. Dyed. Sold. Bought. Storaged.
Paper began as a tree. Shall I write all the steps, roads and inks it took till it got into a book?... Written. Printed. Sold. Bought. Put on a shelf. Found its way into a flea market. Sold. Bought. Storaged. Teared. Sewn. Punched.
Fabric.... imagine please the steps that brought it to my sewing machine and embellisher.
Thread....once more the whole story of it.
A recycled kimono... with its own history.
Face...Drawn. Photoshoped. Printed.
Needles... where does metal begin at? what do I have in my hand? how many lives, stories, miles, insolvencies, bookkeeping records, internationality, globalization can find place in this only doll?
...and now I put everything together, tear it, distort it, cover and uncover it, just to twinge it, punch it, pierce it, stab it, jab and puncture it once more. I cut and add till the doll is a part of me, of what I am. It's delivered and shown after I take and add without obvious sense on all of its surface...
Why do we do this, why do we like this, why do we put together our own little universe? why do other people like it, want it, keep it, give it away, rediscover it, throw it in the garbage, exhibit it, give it to a museum, recycle it?
And there is joy and tears, discovery, serendipity, envy, selflessness, passion, pain, illusion, fear and all the human feelings palette in the process. And most of all oblivion at the end.
And this ragged piece of doll is a philosophical cornerstone that distracts me from finishing my bookkeeping.
Folks, this is a real mad, mad world...
A doll.
Wool from a sheep. The wool was sheared. Washed. Transported. Carded. Dyed. Sold. Bought. Storaged.
Paper began as a tree. Shall I write all the steps, roads and inks it took till it got into a book?... Written. Printed. Sold. Bought. Put on a shelf. Found its way into a flea market. Sold. Bought. Storaged. Teared. Sewn. Punched.
Fabric.... imagine please the steps that brought it to my sewing machine and embellisher.
Thread....once more the whole story of it.
A recycled kimono... with its own history.
Face...Drawn. Photoshoped. Printed.
Needles... where does metal begin at? what do I have in my hand? how many lives, stories, miles, insolvencies, bookkeeping records, internationality, globalization can find place in this only doll?
...and now I put everything together, tear it, distort it, cover and uncover it, just to twinge it, punch it, pierce it, stab it, jab and puncture it once more. I cut and add till the doll is a part of me, of what I am. It's delivered and shown after I take and add without obvious sense on all of its surface...
Why do we do this, why do we like this, why do we put together our own little universe? why do other people like it, want it, keep it, give it away, rediscover it, throw it in the garbage, exhibit it, give it to a museum, recycle it?
And there is joy and tears, discovery, serendipity, envy, selflessness, passion, pain, illusion, fear and all the human feelings palette in the process. And most of all oblivion at the end.
And this ragged piece of doll is a philosophical cornerstone that distracts me from finishing my bookkeeping.
Folks, this is a real mad, mad world...
16 Kommentare:
A mad world indeed. But wonderful too.
Yes....a very mad, mad, mad world. Yet, we keep making art to help make us sane.
you have asked all the questions and i have absolutely no answers. i love that little piece of shibori in there.
You described the creative process so beautifully...It is the process that makes the world seem less mad to me...It takes the pieces and bits of madness and transforms them in an alchemical process filled with new insights and, often, a sense of soothing and peace upon completion.
So eloquently profound...
Thank you. Camilla
The world is madly beautiful and art is the alchemy. We must all be very grateful for having this possibility in us and help her grow.
But you help to make it a more beautiful one Sara. Your doll is delightful and I envy your skill at assembling such very different fabrics in one small piece and making them all work together.
Hmmm...your thoughts are exactly matching mine which I have in the last days...I will post about art as itself...I think there is one thing I am sure of: art is a useful thing to survive the world's madness.
Badness-madness-survivors as artist and as people who watch/hear however enjoy art.
Mad indeed...........
...but our art allows us to make some sense of our PERSONAL worlds....
...whilst the OTHER world whizzes by.
...and, hopefully, when our art reaches that other world, it will help make some sense of THAT too!
I adore you little doll (and what a lovely distraction she must have been).
Loved reading the process and your thoughts...such a treasure.
I think the creative process is something instinctive which cannot be denied. Sometimes you just have to create...even if it takes time away from something else. A compulsion really and you do it so well Sara.
An instinct to carry and cherish, an instinct to shed and flee.
There's a lot in this post.
i enjoyed this very much. thankyou
Sehr schöne Ideen! Werd öfter mal reinschauen!
That was a wonderful post sara. Thanks for making us think! It really is a wonderful world we live in despite some nasty things that happen around us at times.
c'est magnifique ! ça me fait toujours rêver ce que vous faites surtout vos petits personnages !
I was wondering if your book is also in English? Although the beauty of it would translate in any language I am sure.
Best ~ Rella
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