tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32256910506388599072024-03-13T06:37:36.200-07:00Thread of the SpiritEileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.comBlogger54125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-66082457019816463792022-07-07T18:22:00.000-07:002022-07-07T18:22:42.176-07:00Tale of an exhibition<p> It’s hard to believe but it’s now several months since my PhD exhibition <i>A</i> <i>Sorrowful</i> <i>Healing</i> finished. The exhibition was in Galleries 1 and 2 of the School of Art, Aberystwyth University after almost nine years of studying and working, a bit longer than originally planned due to a couple of health crises, one rather scarily involving my sight. The pandemic, of course, didn’t help but I was very lucky to be able to have a Private View although this was a bit awkward to organise as it was to be by invitation only. Numbers had to be restricted because the university was still under Covid regulations.</p><p>I know the exhibition is over but we got a lot of really nice photos during set-up so I thought I'd just put them on this little blog. I haven't done a blog for a long time. Somehow, I got out of the way of doing them. Anyhow, I'll share the photos here now for anyone who may read this!</p><p>There was a lot of work to be done before the exhibition was ready, of course, and I was very lucky in having Arthur and Ed there helping me so much. Others from the uni helped, too, namely curator Neil along with Phil and Karen.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaQKInAEyeEav5NdVNntxraBehlrmoLmNII0AYJ5BtQRJ2brzdb7LDUkdRbF4v-HrBdAOBF4A3qSC40iO3ZMGClnDAGEr09Pik0uOt8HKo4jgcoiakSB65pdOV19dFyq5YtXw0o35fj1eU2astQUO29-mkhO9arH6y09josKZ_k-EcTaBjce-mQQnt2Q/s3118/IMG_1649.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2537" data-original-width="3118" height="260" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaQKInAEyeEav5NdVNntxraBehlrmoLmNII0AYJ5BtQRJ2brzdb7LDUkdRbF4v-HrBdAOBF4A3qSC40iO3ZMGClnDAGEr09Pik0uOt8HKo4jgcoiakSB65pdOV19dFyq5YtXw0o35fj1eU2astQUO29-mkhO9arH6y09josKZ_k-EcTaBjce-mQQnt2Q/s320/IMG_1649.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Ed and Arthur holding work for placing on gallery wall, <i>Father, Forgive </i>and<i> Continuum</i></div><div><i><br /></i></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirKDcT4gr9KK0MzpYIgBPWlMTIDcBg4f_aHip0mUTjxRsM4jow3XngEPLDQuxsYdtTY7ASCNkcKnGP5P0LW0xHSpNptsOwVACKgWfm9HOycUmvohbJfWbwfwj6zK3BcEOFNlch6gmifXqfqyv_mdK0rez25wM2M01eGjr0LNJTc_n9LPvYGgadRQ-s8Q/s4032/IMG_1651.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirKDcT4gr9KK0MzpYIgBPWlMTIDcBg4f_aHip0mUTjxRsM4jow3XngEPLDQuxsYdtTY7ASCNkcKnGP5P0LW0xHSpNptsOwVACKgWfm9HOycUmvohbJfWbwfwj6zK3BcEOFNlch6gmifXqfqyv_mdK0rez25wM2M01eGjr0LNJTc_n9LPvYGgadRQ-s8Q/s320/IMG_1651.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Self in gallery when work positions were being planned.</div></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH59fxAYktLV1wPrlIJ3gouidrXkU-mZRMoy2xB7LXMfLqkL5JIew1tqLTFtu_kS0CxL_6F5_z41fgrjTmJWWB7pV10ClWsmhIEV_EycV82xV7KzFsdTPzOupkK8amIAJRRBHK2I2AsD7aGPYXFDXEZCynDE4SNYGv3WMGwW5LmRWfbvlnYWeNVFUkWg/s3436/IMG_1660.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2694" data-original-width="3436" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgH59fxAYktLV1wPrlIJ3gouidrXkU-mZRMoy2xB7LXMfLqkL5JIew1tqLTFtu_kS0CxL_6F5_z41fgrjTmJWWB7pV10ClWsmhIEV_EycV82xV7KzFsdTPzOupkK8amIAJRRBHK2I2AsD7aGPYXFDXEZCynDE4SNYGv3WMGwW5LmRWfbvlnYWeNVFUkWg/s320/IMG_1660.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /> </div><div style="text-align: center;">Arthur and Phil securing <i>Street Violence </i>to the wall. <i>Her Pillow, the Earth </i>already in place.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxU_bXsXqpBXYr22hUgGZUbxC1SR7r1R8IqCgFqdC4XwnLtO8oU3T9UQVHlQF33JSyxLCeQo-kb5LAs5QT6XPG4xkoPCRMqfI9Lp06G_R7y5fc3ki4-bfhji35EAwiyStlLfgb9Iqobl6BojLy2RQcc2vqbinQBGtDKna60a8QRp7dyinRB4rQj6y80Q/s4032/IMG_1671.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxU_bXsXqpBXYr22hUgGZUbxC1SR7r1R8IqCgFqdC4XwnLtO8oU3T9UQVHlQF33JSyxLCeQo-kb5LAs5QT6XPG4xkoPCRMqfI9Lp06G_R7y5fc3ki4-bfhji35EAwiyStlLfgb9Iqobl6BojLy2RQcc2vqbinQBGtDKna60a8QRp7dyinRB4rQj6y80Q/s320/IMG_1671.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Things had moved on by this stage.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMO22Uwrbq1b9uCMY1QQVtXSpbQMTZV21u1yYhbv876CPXpO5mHF1NE4H9SvQ8dcP1P7-DE5ANGDqUKjrba9hCZj62Th8aJhBWwVpJ13mbR1252MNoSJQ23L2RrgRU7ufpj4bQeo_JzCaZNTuxI18ZSySVQsXpo9M1WQ-ObMttc7POh_TJnoj4M3IR9A/s4032/IMG_1672.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMO22Uwrbq1b9uCMY1QQVtXSpbQMTZV21u1yYhbv876CPXpO5mHF1NE4H9SvQ8dcP1P7-DE5ANGDqUKjrba9hCZj62Th8aJhBWwVpJ13mbR1252MNoSJQ23L2RrgRU7ufpj4bQeo_JzCaZNTuxI18ZSySVQsXpo9M1WQ-ObMttc7POh_TJnoj4M3IR9A/s320/IMG_1672.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And on the back wall in the other gallery space, <i>Aeolian Lament </i>was hung.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMhw0r6tourbx8x0_jKEYWA2Zn9IVbMwDUJ4Vv933tN_efAE-LQfDvIbBMn5CEF46LHG_DTdZ_OQGRHZaEk3LAnNbAliOnc6SeuGESD2CwKYWmyKJLdn-xSV2mGhDABE5ZYFX_m3d2GOcxA_0X91m4sfZ5lgPI3PlqdgHtet8A-ampUsDlpMlwji6LBw/s4032/IMG_1677.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMhw0r6tourbx8x0_jKEYWA2Zn9IVbMwDUJ4Vv933tN_efAE-LQfDvIbBMn5CEF46LHG_DTdZ_OQGRHZaEk3LAnNbAliOnc6SeuGESD2CwKYWmyKJLdn-xSV2mGhDABE5ZYFX_m3d2GOcxA_0X91m4sfZ5lgPI3PlqdgHtet8A-ampUsDlpMlwji6LBw/s320/IMG_1677.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div>I liked how the Information Board, <i>Futility </i>and<i> Street Violence </i>fitted together in the gallery space.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaLpr2ebE0umBz2WOdkNysiRBy7yhM6IpIj2XQgNLtQqG8z7TgB0G2ScoGdJe_D__LY5_yoopiFLb0sstppJbwAJY-_p18ChgE4M11u1NWL8WOhYtyEcwgsQXcsuzyXwznz1P2jyJituSuPnsb43SZkNq6VG__9SobZk1gtuDOiDz4KHRrgY1HjYaJCg/s4032/IMG_1657.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaLpr2ebE0umBz2WOdkNysiRBy7yhM6IpIj2XQgNLtQqG8z7TgB0G2ScoGdJe_D__LY5_yoopiFLb0sstppJbwAJY-_p18ChgE4M11u1NWL8WOhYtyEcwgsQXcsuzyXwznz1P2jyJituSuPnsb43SZkNq6VG__9SobZk1gtuDOiDz4KHRrgY1HjYaJCg/s320/IMG_1657.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Position chosen for the <i>A Cape for Healing. Aeolian Lament </i>already placed.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjovW31fDTxRav44muphTOg6_FGjYryGALV5W2f8WwZvyIqsy0dj2pzBLXza_01in_Xqw59Hd_d8McrdeWjVId0bepUAfsdjWxRhi0N1uxKouVdJ4KUkJykRlk0OwKL1IHoU9II-0lp_ox9gtHSZtscq-Nc4brjG_nurLjY0ZzSTZvYbLJJlAEQBXmhYQ/s2048/0309827f-04d0-43d5-ac60-fa1d17454955.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjovW31fDTxRav44muphTOg6_FGjYryGALV5W2f8WwZvyIqsy0dj2pzBLXza_01in_Xqw59Hd_d8McrdeWjVId0bepUAfsdjWxRhi0N1uxKouVdJ4KUkJykRlk0OwKL1IHoU9II-0lp_ox9gtHSZtscq-Nc4brjG_nurLjY0ZzSTZvYbLJJlAEQBXmhYQ/s320/0309827f-04d0-43d5-ac60-fa1d17454955.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Much help was had - and appreciated!</div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4sIHdYBaXyUKYuKTVKGmu0hB5rxsFXywsmQ1hGK3qzaI8rtoPkcRt4q7IezW4fVQFq-GNrxUuYhsaxj_lHdWANIZAjBZb83SEImocRISpU4FbGtXXqEhe8e49prwBHikgCPSZ9PNNYLs_Gg9EmaGispfNiSqr4jzJIEerSZmw7rDIEXOf8smaRu_nuw/s4032/IMG_1720.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4sIHdYBaXyUKYuKTVKGmu0hB5rxsFXywsmQ1hGK3qzaI8rtoPkcRt4q7IezW4fVQFq-GNrxUuYhsaxj_lHdWANIZAjBZb83SEImocRISpU4FbGtXXqEhe8e49prwBHikgCPSZ9PNNYLs_Gg9EmaGispfNiSqr4jzJIEerSZmw7rDIEXOf8smaRu_nuw/s320/IMG_1720.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Father, Forgive,</i> <i>Continuum</i> and <i>Destruction's Path</i> all ready now. Poem <i>Continuum</i> seen behind the ladder. The boards that Neil supplied really worked well for the poems.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">This was a while ago so I have everything at home now, including the poems on the boards. Hopefully they'll be of use somewhere else.</div><div><div><div><p> </p></div></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXEoNpUv46o833srcB0QzqbPxTlx-l5z7dgCNzkFBdt_W0sI28wRJf1huo76IUSaf5lz0vhnoKCU7cqRkygovOsOsTmKo8uvUzccSomovSifFQrg2dGZAH_ulZhTAwKfeRlQBcDDdJ-pz6-__TyjpainJhei9yIx6DK2cRs3k0yzz6VZ0bkFHEGKbhlA/s4032/IMG_1721.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXEoNpUv46o833srcB0QzqbPxTlx-l5z7dgCNzkFBdt_W0sI28wRJf1huo76IUSaf5lz0vhnoKCU7cqRkygovOsOsTmKo8uvUzccSomovSifFQrg2dGZAH_ulZhTAwKfeRlQBcDDdJ-pz6-__TyjpainJhei9yIx6DK2cRs3k0yzz6VZ0bkFHEGKbhlA/s320/IMG_1721.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">There are two walls with these arches, one in each gallery and they were ideal for the large pieces, <i>Futility</i> and now <i>Façade</i>. The small piece <i>After </i>and poem of the same name looked right placed near to <i>Façade</i>.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjGjB1su7HA7Yu6dLBA_nBHfAslHkvEeyXqt93MPqlEIFkbGvLhrdVKwxZhzfFrdoVVuc2m57UyOPIXv5TNXK7zn4F8skQ3LlGu3Fa6ZisY3GP2o5PzYDYouT0G3j4LKKYL76GZk6db_ex73Z5020tcwheWHTKyJHT88LC_UciB_4hqO-g-XA_OMx2pw/s4032/IMG_1867.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="289" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjjGjB1su7HA7Yu6dLBA_nBHfAslHkvEeyXqt93MPqlEIFkbGvLhrdVKwxZhzfFrdoVVuc2m57UyOPIXv5TNXK7zn4F8skQ3LlGu3Fa6ZisY3GP2o5PzYDYouT0G3j4LKKYL76GZk6db_ex73Z5020tcwheWHTKyJHT88LC_UciB_4hqO-g-XA_OMx2pw/w385-h289/IMG_1867.jpeg" width="385" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>Façade</i></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEwXCOXnQ6-KqFTnUjWw8Vb0xOuLMlBK7j2EjFObn6Q0arP_32ZbUXDVi_0TJJYfSAchIH_CzEZcscbai8srx-elY7Etro7euRNSCExOYqwjKcm-4nG-ZI0fAbpU-6m3dqoWoVxcjLy7t6qlGXFsEPiNjUGo7RXoH1pDaNThEWHcsI1vFMUigqSyOUQA/s3669/IMG_1725.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2822" data-original-width="3669" height="246" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEwXCOXnQ6-KqFTnUjWw8Vb0xOuLMlBK7j2EjFObn6Q0arP_32ZbUXDVi_0TJJYfSAchIH_CzEZcscbai8srx-elY7Etro7euRNSCExOYqwjKcm-4nG-ZI0fAbpU-6m3dqoWoVxcjLy7t6qlGXFsEPiNjUGo7RXoH1pDaNThEWHcsI1vFMUigqSyOUQA/s320/IMG_1725.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><i><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Transition</i> and <i>Via Dolorosa </i>had found their places, too.</div></i></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGXYh3FQeS77yEMetwF3cnbFMfCUYynzv2Pop47zR4906DQPA4ENwMpVVi8bBUoMHAHrNUr8y6ugRTSSwPsRoSejmjsjtQt4Xv5f5yKDi-AiRQ9pZJLqsvI9LbQXjQoxp4o9hhyVfP5e4zpmM5L_2r6M8KUYuXY8MFY68VqlFOc6WJZQzzbtTUsKJFLg/s4032/IMG_1868.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGXYh3FQeS77yEMetwF3cnbFMfCUYynzv2Pop47zR4906DQPA4ENwMpVVi8bBUoMHAHrNUr8y6ugRTSSwPsRoSejmjsjtQt4Xv5f5yKDi-AiRQ9pZJLqsvI9LbQXjQoxp4o9hhyVfP5e4zpmM5L_2r6M8KUYuXY8MFY68VqlFOc6WJZQzzbtTUsKJFLg/s320/IMG_1868.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><i>Aftermath </i>was there, too.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj18sMzfngV30Htqd8WHPsMQQFR0a1YGyOgGLOzFPAG8GluQJZmXjz3oQaepZcBJmrCqdJSib_i9S5bKJbJj7QN7HAW3vzEqYm01NZI1polejWptElJHSyrv09kinlfxIkhraYOCac3_46SjRZH2CWZfMA3wPjEVV6RJ8DJ6uNfeFafGZ5afatl5Tjvkw/s3946/IMG_1870.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2476" data-original-width="3946" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj18sMzfngV30Htqd8WHPsMQQFR0a1YGyOgGLOzFPAG8GluQJZmXjz3oQaepZcBJmrCqdJSib_i9S5bKJbJj7QN7HAW3vzEqYm01NZI1polejWptElJHSyrv09kinlfxIkhraYOCac3_46SjRZH2CWZfMA3wPjEVV6RJ8DJ6uNfeFafGZ5afatl5Tjvkw/w397-h249/IMG_1870.jpeg" width="397" /></a></div><br /><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">With <i>After, s</i>titched piece and poem and<i> Façade.</i></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkqPzWSYXwuv8RXsb11BDyqubKoDsMnLwfqESWXd2I6mNhj42SF7T9By12yz5dmaz2ieWyvTZPF4aMe4141kopjJkNTJS66DdRd-ldW4lLc31Gw8wrm_SgdQOb9CmbS7CZ5hYyL4P0z-uBIyW-XoVO7HB5oCKPHC7bI6T_MkXRbEG8TGuO_D8_aqmGnA/s2016/43043445-cedf-4f80-b641-c5a8a3780acf.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><i><img border="0" data-original-height="1512" data-original-width="2016" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkqPzWSYXwuv8RXsb11BDyqubKoDsMnLwfqESWXd2I6mNhj42SF7T9By12yz5dmaz2ieWyvTZPF4aMe4141kopjJkNTJS66DdRd-ldW4lLc31Gw8wrm_SgdQOb9CmbS7CZ5hYyL4P0z-uBIyW-XoVO7HB5oCKPHC7bI6T_MkXRbEG8TGuO_D8_aqmGnA/s320/43043445-cedf-4f80-b641-c5a8a3780acf.jpeg" width="320" /></i></a></div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Everything secured in the cabinet. <i>Continuum </i>film ready on its plinth, too.</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBZEhzfukQNMWLsOskG0LjEbUJhIZcBCI87yLOE6clgP4lkUz64oQDDLv4yoAnfAB6JUlDcLOgaMuMgPhx76WfYzhybFFzGjQ6AbyxmAOELbToPwef1s74IAWIdB8e1Y_TFKGSoj8I3P65d5AzpZgVdzHaE6lLDJVKK-AJzVaZR5PPEJD65FvcIaV0Kw/s2016/2caaba11-6550-4960-9b82-9cbb95e6473e.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2016" data-original-width="1512" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBZEhzfukQNMWLsOskG0LjEbUJhIZcBCI87yLOE6clgP4lkUz64oQDDLv4yoAnfAB6JUlDcLOgaMuMgPhx76WfYzhybFFzGjQ6AbyxmAOELbToPwef1s74IAWIdB8e1Y_TFKGSoj8I3P65d5AzpZgVdzHaE6lLDJVKK-AJzVaZR5PPEJD65FvcIaV0Kw/s320/2caaba11-6550-4960-9b82-9cbb95e6473e.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">I had to make sure there were no wrinkles - or at least as few as possible!</div><div><br /><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4ig2VsiIpSx_h4szcln5gBCzYoj_EVyi3Ron0JsP8dtV3b1kvNwbmE7Eu3URFMpNnpO_qiCGsAtE2Q3u-rizwiS0gk6lbF5G8H5_MonPZ28cUmJPNdFsn4sGjXUL5c42ITygRq4pCHD-gVxFVzwW05s6fv4JyEHeRzVvgDbU9mljk5sqxufwmYHU8tw/s4032/IMG_1752.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4ig2VsiIpSx_h4szcln5gBCzYoj_EVyi3Ron0JsP8dtV3b1kvNwbmE7Eu3URFMpNnpO_qiCGsAtE2Q3u-rizwiS0gk6lbF5G8H5_MonPZ28cUmJPNdFsn4sGjXUL5c42ITygRq4pCHD-gVxFVzwW05s6fv4JyEHeRzVvgDbU9mljk5sqxufwmYHU8tw/s320/IMG_1752.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">It was very neat when everything was in its place!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlJ0qLEH1JoBiM97mn1l-qTvQ-359Kt6YKeuEc5676yHNQtzvy_KksUEZmyXHMUJ4hKla-q9DnnmbtGqfYczWYF1ev65hA1kfcIoN1ETUV4x21BCmmMVjGMR9UIuKxdAt10SSzwDAJjMswFXHY0zAgeSlLNbWycwaMdWBwyJs_MBTHAc0mTz3EQWBBMA/s4032/IMG_1943.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlJ0qLEH1JoBiM97mn1l-qTvQ-359Kt6YKeuEc5676yHNQtzvy_KksUEZmyXHMUJ4hKla-q9DnnmbtGqfYczWYF1ev65hA1kfcIoN1ETUV4x21BCmmMVjGMR9UIuKxdAt10SSzwDAJjMswFXHY0zAgeSlLNbWycwaMdWBwyJs_MBTHAc0mTz3EQWBBMA/s320/IMG_1943.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /></div><i><div style="text-align: center;"><i>De Profundis </i>was there, too.</div></i><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigV44elZ1pNlCNWS_ePdYrVkIvTXeUZUxLK8zW8jpTTdic3N321g_BkzDuuaM68WjKqFviYvItXifoX1KeV643GdAmVqr5-29H2fSzTdhMRlD_izoys27lkrTk3CzKGnEk7vvt1YI1bm05Tnpw4uPnyQEd9FuHv28ZGYo1yH9VEH4VLvoI6Jfa_L1LOw/s4032/IMG_1948.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigV44elZ1pNlCNWS_ePdYrVkIvTXeUZUxLK8zW8jpTTdic3N321g_BkzDuuaM68WjKqFviYvItXifoX1KeV643GdAmVqr5-29H2fSzTdhMRlD_izoys27lkrTk3CzKGnEk7vvt1YI1bm05Tnpw4uPnyQEd9FuHv28ZGYo1yH9VEH4VLvoI6Jfa_L1LOw/s320/IMG_1948.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">And <i>A Daily Living.</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKuct5PRhmXXOnMpJjhAXtyghHEfz1D4D6mam9mn2iF8dK1ZYcD70S6Wl2JBR2QBM3PE6J6JJlFLta0MIHiHFqDqcnrmB0SGDWafzNakCEc3aha_wIMUiT6Mfnx0kHR1p_MXn5FEvXAGSEwNjLFi1unYsP0YepMZbPZPGtvWvbVquy9-6aB1eltGQqJQ/s1600/2e6f58c3-3642-4e38-971d-3f29a8fdfe3b.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKuct5PRhmXXOnMpJjhAXtyghHEfz1D4D6mam9mn2iF8dK1ZYcD70S6Wl2JBR2QBM3PE6J6JJlFLta0MIHiHFqDqcnrmB0SGDWafzNakCEc3aha_wIMUiT6Mfnx0kHR1p_MXn5FEvXAGSEwNjLFi1unYsP0YepMZbPZPGtvWvbVquy9-6aB1eltGQqJQ/s320/2e6f58c3-3642-4e38-971d-3f29a8fdfe3b.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Everything in place here now.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxvo69IjP_5ATdgRuKIdeQ9QQfkhGcWF5NYHjjpF3O13My-vl43DDYaJANRz7F7URFwD68PqIGu_ctI7Mp8pTuJYD0mQXfVvkA98lSSgHMUO_MK5IfziAWUigyv3MbWlrPa3UyoLVANf0ysuJaHhjLu8s_Kj-G0yNdrYw7JtoeggCSLDSL9v5KGS80qA/s4032/IMG_1667.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxvo69IjP_5ATdgRuKIdeQ9QQfkhGcWF5NYHjjpF3O13My-vl43DDYaJANRz7F7URFwD68PqIGu_ctI7Mp8pTuJYD0mQXfVvkA98lSSgHMUO_MK5IfziAWUigyv3MbWlrPa3UyoLVANf0ysuJaHhjLu8s_Kj-G0yNdrYw7JtoeggCSLDSL9v5KGS80qA/s320/IMG_1667.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>A Sacrifice Too Great </i>joined in its place as well.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi32aSAdmCFdkbN0tIBcOiWM-U3RSY8vjMVOwThpDCvH6sGW2FJvxn__TYQNuE9ld25orWo2fSr9RhwzJInf0gL1FsKXTgiZt86B23Z_BPDzvCSK19ZNtXvF9P_DcFVdEXnpSaqOeDgzuMW8mN5vNE7omz1CVuLPQVblQeKMc5GRQRABLSDWYDyi3nGuA/s4032/IMG_1873.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi32aSAdmCFdkbN0tIBcOiWM-U3RSY8vjMVOwThpDCvH6sGW2FJvxn__TYQNuE9ld25orWo2fSr9RhwzJInf0gL1FsKXTgiZt86B23Z_BPDzvCSK19ZNtXvF9P_DcFVdEXnpSaqOeDgzuMW8mN5vNE7omz1CVuLPQVblQeKMc5GRQRABLSDWYDyi3nGuA/s320/IMG_1873.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Another view of the gallery.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii_qEE0nFzW3QHCWqqxVI21AYRNtFyjRhy-OGHD1A_66zejCbsCcC8EitGe70gG_wtf3JjD3KG9QHvekFL7zHMrSMu-3ZRdDj9MwocwbtbuPXqQLHhdwTh3ZcH8GQqxgfHK-ggJG4wZG5y_2XH8_Hg5P4G9v-Qij_soSO9xC6iAdGNJ-_AAfxLmjx-eA/s4032/IMG_1612.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEii_qEE0nFzW3QHCWqqxVI21AYRNtFyjRhy-OGHD1A_66zejCbsCcC8EitGe70gG_wtf3JjD3KG9QHvekFL7zHMrSMu-3ZRdDj9MwocwbtbuPXqQLHhdwTh3ZcH8GQqxgfHK-ggJG4wZG5y_2XH8_Hg5P4G9v-Qij_soSO9xC6iAdGNJ-_AAfxLmjx-eA/s320/IMG_1612.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">February being a cold month, it was pretty chilly outside!</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj6E5RflQCxs-6kfUaI1YavCfRj_GFu8oa2znFlTKOS_tcWL0XIgyjtExEMhIzJtv6JdzjCiMmQPJBtJtPAPXG0MWK2iDBBqn3SwzXqYNaa_yXiOASaYmueUWptw4G0scnpgj9-c_X1SJ7fh-uhxxY4g0O5nL_oczrXGPsz8_7bMBzGPoc3zaFRfsQGQ/s4032/IMG_1613.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj6E5RflQCxs-6kfUaI1YavCfRj_GFu8oa2znFlTKOS_tcWL0XIgyjtExEMhIzJtv6JdzjCiMmQPJBtJtPAPXG0MWK2iDBBqn3SwzXqYNaa_yXiOASaYmueUWptw4G0scnpgj9-c_X1SJ7fh-uhxxY4g0O5nL_oczrXGPsz8_7bMBzGPoc3zaFRfsQGQ/s320/IMG_1613.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">It seemed half the beach had washed up onto the pavement!</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Tq-FpT0psmq7GSUxw9FTFgsocy0oPwrug12SAerzslLid5fQxZBwSHyun76Gg-f42Fku7Z8IKxp_FIIEEIkm61M5F2IXiOv5mNm0T2qxHg8glfPjDb5917Gqw_r1RQW4Ib7TwzBnhV4d-euHngpVqdbmKQ1cYgqloTX1ZHpK31u8Nfs7lTfiOr6RUw/s4032/IMG_1625.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7Tq-FpT0psmq7GSUxw9FTFgsocy0oPwrug12SAerzslLid5fQxZBwSHyun76Gg-f42Fku7Z8IKxp_FIIEEIkm61M5F2IXiOv5mNm0T2qxHg8glfPjDb5917Gqw_r1RQW4Ib7TwzBnhV4d-euHngpVqdbmKQ1cYgqloTX1ZHpK31u8Nfs7lTfiOr6RUw/s320/IMG_1625.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">And of course, there were the starlings!</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoD_oJ-kkhB7y4DnbXftesIcgxJKjYMDCTAPKtPs9DvHKKywmW0b-fxbttJi1Xn24PulCvFh3_XbAzea_LgPvydTopiqSe8bJvVciMSRHiYG88iZb3IY29fsNPuJjZkEMaLk-7EofXbOE_yM3tK_rLf2tlo9PvKhmxpPBYqI75XPe0pGvCpuHu-crXsQ/s4032/IMG_1753.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoD_oJ-kkhB7y4DnbXftesIcgxJKjYMDCTAPKtPs9DvHKKywmW0b-fxbttJi1Xn24PulCvFh3_XbAzea_LgPvydTopiqSe8bJvVciMSRHiYG88iZb3IY29fsNPuJjZkEMaLk-7EofXbOE_yM3tK_rLf2tlo9PvKhmxpPBYqI75XPe0pGvCpuHu-crXsQ/s320/IMG_1753.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">All the labels in place, too, so all was ready!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcmRqdwoWGuS0lKK0IU3NVZJCkkrXlXlIyooCEOb-e50w0Nqh9aONmd6mTkp__7M8JbWNrGnaKozhaB4Nx8k35_ziZVcj6mOpR49011oPKTN7t-Hq9eAtJbdZQH0CbqJeFtjIY4qa-nw_lQI-0UO0LI9BMrGiafdQMCPCP2znvauhAKG7yUNWhuIS3ig/s4032/IMG_1744.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcmRqdwoWGuS0lKK0IU3NVZJCkkrXlXlIyooCEOb-e50w0Nqh9aONmd6mTkp__7M8JbWNrGnaKozhaB4Nx8k35_ziZVcj6mOpR49011oPKTN7t-Hq9eAtJbdZQH0CbqJeFtjIY4qa-nw_lQI-0UO0LI9BMrGiafdQMCPCP2znvauhAKG7yUNWhuIS3ig/s320/IMG_1744.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Things ready here, too.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpONDaq7Ue9zi5p2WVr68mme73rAJ5rTcAQM-MovoSAMdlKF35SNAyjNmWhHFatVaHUsBoSRLkihv-CDeMdsrafUWc8gwey3sYGegS9rk-sAgzLW78THB_sbh3IgYpl0m-qzvSi1uQTEXMUN8b1vIUS5tcsgm78WbKKv0YnsrOYT1Q-QhPB1KqRZWXfQ/s4032/IMG_1746.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3024" data-original-width="4032" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpONDaq7Ue9zi5p2WVr68mme73rAJ5rTcAQM-MovoSAMdlKF35SNAyjNmWhHFatVaHUsBoSRLkihv-CDeMdsrafUWc8gwey3sYGegS9rk-sAgzLW78THB_sbh3IgYpl0m-qzvSi1uQTEXMUN8b1vIUS5tcsgm78WbKKv0YnsrOYT1Q-QhPB1KqRZWXfQ/s320/IMG_1746.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">The uni had this platform which was ideal for my little blocks.</div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid6WxcIt3JKXIaMD-aXuaLlNn8NMQsguRekbu0JHD06xUfTySfSGoyKHq3ut5lrLJVQSYtS3uZgNsMvsiBl-1DIp2U7HPUoweORU5FvZnNN-vNisiHqGm5nSP4CFCR0nOZ5mrsUQFgAlpb2K1XUJNgteVomQn-oVOwTON0SNwsjkZ1CSRJmKX6aYy9GQ/s3558/IMG_1750.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2851" data-original-width="3558" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid6WxcIt3JKXIaMD-aXuaLlNn8NMQsguRekbu0JHD06xUfTySfSGoyKHq3ut5lrLJVQSYtS3uZgNsMvsiBl-1DIp2U7HPUoweORU5FvZnNN-vNisiHqGm5nSP4CFCR0nOZ5mrsUQFgAlpb2K1XUJNgteVomQn-oVOwTON0SNwsjkZ1CSRJmKX6aYy9GQ/s320/IMG_1750.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">All packed up and ready to go!</div></div><div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7vC8oOcUxJbPbQpbCxrALY2roOOu-SiQcClAdIi0Gbr0QTmhzFF24cKECoKodevt5Gx2KGNUzEudmxljoc9AzfFEG2GGiRJ0ERfr2n0uiZAccQzJWkRxwwCpW7jzDLc_dc8A7Vx5G1a1EQA4gQPPaSds6C_afvpNWaHVCU3r_4rxy93ESwdi1fQNF2w/s4032/IMG_1878.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7vC8oOcUxJbPbQpbCxrALY2roOOu-SiQcClAdIi0Gbr0QTmhzFF24cKECoKodevt5Gx2KGNUzEudmxljoc9AzfFEG2GGiRJ0ERfr2n0uiZAccQzJWkRxwwCpW7jzDLc_dc8A7Vx5G1a1EQA4gQPPaSds6C_afvpNWaHVCU3r_4rxy93ESwdi1fQNF2w/s320/IMG_1878.jpeg" width="240" /></a></div><div><br /><div><div style="text-align: center;">I got this new dress for the Opening!</div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Just a little photo gallery of setting the exhibition up. I'll put on some more info about it next time. </div><div><br /></div><div>There will be a film coming out in a little while. Some problems arose but it will be there in due course.</div><div><br /></div><div>Now the thesis continues!<br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /><div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div><br /><div><br /><div><br /></div><div><br /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div>Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-3864229837377819332021-06-21T03:46:00.000-07:002021-06-21T03:46:59.317-07:00Exhibiting again!<p> It has been a while since I've taken part in exhibitions but now I have two pieces in MOMA Machynlleth in 'Women's Art in Wales - A Personal View' curated by Jill Piercy and another in 'Oriel Lockdown' in Aberystwyth Arts Centre. The works in MOMA are <i>A Sacrifice Too Great </i>and <i>Leitmotif </i>with<i> Street Violence s</i>howing in the Arts Centre. This latter exhibition will open on 21st June and run until 5th September 2021 while MOMA re-opened on 29th May and current exhibitions here will run until 4th September 2021.</p><p>Arthur and I visited MOMA last Wednesday and there is a lot to see with four exhibitions running simultaeneously! It is a big gallery and we're going to go back again as we didn't have time to see quite everything. 'Women's Art in Wales' is in the Owen Owen Gallery (where my works are hung) and the Bridge and a catalogue to accompany 'Women's Art in Wales' should be out in a couple of weeks' time. We took some photos of my pieces on gallery walls again! The exhibition is really well hung, being sensitive to both colour and theme among the works. All four exhibitions are dedicated to art by women so we're filling the galleries!</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uGG_dKwtz-M/YNBbi6-RJxI/AAAAAAAACTs/nR3MxOfhXxcIr0HMvEEYg45KmZfmUfmmQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1457/A%2BSacrifice%2BToo%2BGreat%2BWomen%2BArtists%2Bin%2BWales%2BMOMA%2BMachynlleth%2BJune%2B2021%2Blow%2Bres.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1400" data-original-width="1457" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-uGG_dKwtz-M/YNBbi6-RJxI/AAAAAAAACTs/nR3MxOfhXxcIr0HMvEEYg45KmZfmUfmmQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/A%2BSacrifice%2BToo%2BGreat%2BWomen%2BArtists%2Bin%2BWales%2BMOMA%2BMachynlleth%2BJune%2B2021%2Blow%2Bres.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i>A Sacrifice Too Great</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-djfrF96VF6A/YNBcB71a-aI/AAAAAAAACT0/mO4clHHcgbIIOLFMoJrI5WRPkXyqmL6YwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1491/Leitmotif%2Bin%2BWomen%2BArtists%2Bin%2BWales%2BMOMA%2BMachynlleth%2BJune%2B2021%2Bbright%2Bcropped.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1237" data-original-width="1491" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-djfrF96VF6A/YNBcB71a-aI/AAAAAAAACT0/mO4clHHcgbIIOLFMoJrI5WRPkXyqmL6YwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Leitmotif%2Bin%2BWomen%2BArtists%2Bin%2BWales%2BMOMA%2BMachynlleth%2BJune%2B2021%2Bbright%2Bcropped.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Leitmotif</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OQvaY516cAY/YNBcQhioCzI/AAAAAAAACT4/Uv0e7NDNE7cKzCGfII3lpleGTct23D1CgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1701/Leitmotif%2Bgallery%2Bview%2B%2BMOMA%2BMachynlleth%2BJune%2B2021%2Blow%2Bres.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1276" data-original-width="1701" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OQvaY516cAY/YNBcQhioCzI/AAAAAAAACT4/Uv0e7NDNE7cKzCGfII3lpleGTct23D1CgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Leitmotif%2Bgallery%2Bview%2B%2BMOMA%2BMachynlleth%2BJune%2B2021%2Blow%2Bres.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">A gallery view with <i>Leitmotif</i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><i><br /></i></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LyuruFE_mDw/YNBckZnMvxI/AAAAAAAACUE/-hDG50PuB6EZgzFR7GO-IRURUuT1wn_SQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1701/Gallery%2Bview%2B2%2BMOMA%2BMachynlleth%2BJune%2B2021%2Blow%2Bres.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1136" data-original-width="1701" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-LyuruFE_mDw/YNBckZnMvxI/AAAAAAAACUE/-hDG50PuB6EZgzFR7GO-IRURUuT1wn_SQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Gallery%2Bview%2B2%2BMOMA%2BMachynlleth%2BJune%2B2021%2Blow%2Bres.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Gallery view including both pieces</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">We also took some views of each other by the works.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5tmqYj4O0R4/YNBdJC1jFkI/AAAAAAAACUM/IM3rsFo7pAUlB4dGMlJkpBgoVWAx15D0ACLcBGAsYHQ/s1740/Arthur%2Bmasked%2Bby%2BA%2BSacrifice%2BToo%2BGreat%2BMOMA%2BMachynlleth%2BJune%2B2021%2Blow%2Bres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1740" data-original-width="1559" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-5tmqYj4O0R4/YNBdJC1jFkI/AAAAAAAACUM/IM3rsFo7pAUlB4dGMlJkpBgoVWAx15D0ACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Arthur%2Bmasked%2Bby%2BA%2BSacrifice%2BToo%2BGreat%2BMOMA%2BMachynlleth%2BJune%2B2021%2Blow%2Bres.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gUfZOKecagE/YNBdS67lQVI/AAAAAAAACUQ/X-EvvDpMZKYrXXAuYrkOJjJepdUBGZjAwCLcBGAsYHQ/s1408/Self%2Bmasked%2Bby%2BLeitmotif%2Bin%2BWomen%2BArtists%2Bin%2BWales%252C%2BMOMA%252C%2BMachynlleth%2BJune%2B2021%2Blow%2Bres.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1408" data-original-width="1134" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gUfZOKecagE/YNBdS67lQVI/AAAAAAAACUQ/X-EvvDpMZKYrXXAuYrkOJjJepdUBGZjAwCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Self%2Bmasked%2Bby%2BLeitmotif%2Bin%2BWomen%2BArtists%2Bin%2BWales%252C%2BMOMA%252C%2BMachynlleth%2BJune%2B2021%2Blow%2Bres.jpeg" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Two photos 'visiting the exhibition 2021 style'!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l4yQd6Se4oA/YNBd7aofMgI/AAAAAAAACUc/qWe2Op0VINwePL5UNj0ARf0vrDfbbOwjACLcBGAsYHQ/s2048/Arthur%2Bby%2BA%2BSacrifice%2BToo%2BGreat%2Bin%2BMOMA%2BWales%2BMachynlleth%2BJune%2B2021%2Blow%2Bres.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1845" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-l4yQd6Se4oA/YNBd7aofMgI/AAAAAAAACUc/qWe2Op0VINwePL5UNj0ARf0vrDfbbOwjACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Arthur%2Bby%2BA%2BSacrifice%2BToo%2BGreat%2Bin%2BMOMA%2BWales%2BMachynlleth%2BJune%2B2021%2Blow%2Bres.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZEoWQq7rKjY/YNBeJEo_XrI/AAAAAAAACUg/SZDczdwxJFU92XkVMk5QmutaY0dre2FqgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1772/Self%2Bby%2BA%2BSacrifice%2BToo%2BGreat%2BMOMA%2BMachynlleth%2BJune%2B2021%2Bcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1772" data-original-width="1417" height="363" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZEoWQq7rKjY/YNBeJEo_XrI/AAAAAAAACUg/SZDczdwxJFU92XkVMk5QmutaY0dre2FqgCLcBGAsYHQ/w290-h363/Self%2Bby%2BA%2BSacrifice%2BToo%2BGreat%2BMOMA%2BMachynlleth%2BJune%2B2021%2Bcopy.jpg" width="290" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Then two photos as we always used to take them!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://moma.cymru/en/e/womens-art-in-wales-a-personal-view/">The gallery </a>has restricted opening times and Covid rules mean there has to be a booking system but this can be done either online via the link or by phoning the gallery on 01654 703355. At present they are open Wednesdays, Fridays and Saturday mornings. There is a lot of information on their website.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">It was so good to see exhibitions again and say hello to friends in MOMA we haven't seen for quite some time! It's a lovely gallery and well worth a visit. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I'm also looking forward to going to the <a href="https://www.aberystwythartscentre.co.uk/oriel-lockdown" target="_blank">Arts Centre</a> again. It will be interesting to see the exhibition and how the centre looks now after they had to do refurbishments because of flooding. As with MOMA, there is an appointment system for visiting the centre.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NdthOWpIKRI/YNBp55vGMLI/AAAAAAAACUs/wt_49BtTp3YGJbJw6DtKkWSbh7nuyy7YgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1500/Eileen%2BHarrisson%2B%2527Street%2BViolence%2527%2B%2528detail%2529%2BAberystwyth%2BArts%2BCentre%2B2021%2B%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1125" data-original-width="1500" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-NdthOWpIKRI/YNBp55vGMLI/AAAAAAAACUs/wt_49BtTp3YGJbJw6DtKkWSbh7nuyy7YgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Eileen%2BHarrisson%2B%2527Street%2BViolence%2527%2B%2528detail%2529%2BAberystwyth%2BArts%2BCentre%2B2021%2B%25281%2529.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">This is a detail from <i>Street Violence</i></div><div style="text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><div style="text-align: center;">So exciting to be a part of exhibitions again!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">Besides stitching, I'm also writing an article for a journal on textiles and the thesis is progressing! I love doing my stitching but I also enjoy writing and it's great if people find an interest in reading what I write as well as what I make. The other string to my bow, so to speak, is music and as well as working on my singing and playing - mostly guitar with some piano - it's a great pleasure for me to continue to work with my son, Ed, on musical compositions and arrangements. My practice times are often shorter than I would ideally like because of my physical restrictions but it's so good to be able to express myself musically as well as through art and writing.</div><div style="text-align: left;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: left;">I find one creative activity feeds another and am so fortunate that I have such encouragement from my family in what I do and I give unceasing thanks to my husband, friend and partner, Arthur, who does so much for me in this life!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></div><br /><p><br /></p>Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-41180428428566047952021-03-23T04:46:00.000-07:002021-03-23T04:46:43.558-07:00Looking from both sides<p> I am still working towards my PhD Final Exhibition, now scheduled for 7th February - 4th March 2022, and on my thesis. There is a particular piece, a long hanging, that I am currently stitching that I'd like to share with you. I am calling it simply 'Father, Forgive' and there is an important image within it that I'll just talk a little about here.</p><p><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ax-koSccF3w/YFnGQgdtWYI/AAAAAAAACPc/mTvt-CJ0BFI4ZQnZirDQmncGpV8FWj3WACLcBGAsYHQ/s1089/Eileen%2BHarrisson%2BNurse%2527s%2Bcape%2Bdetail%2Bgirl%2Blow%2Bres%2BMay%2B2019%2Bcopy.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1089" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ax-koSccF3w/YFnGQgdtWYI/AAAAAAAACPc/mTvt-CJ0BFI4ZQnZirDQmncGpV8FWj3WACLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Eileen%2BHarrisson%2BNurse%2527s%2Bcape%2Bdetail%2Bgirl%2Blow%2Bres%2BMay%2B2019%2Bcopy.jpeg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Image from the base of the nurse's cape.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">This is the image of a girl holding the wrist of an injured man, seen as stitched on the nurse's cape, which image I had already used in my piece 'Continuum'. I decided to stitch her again on the cape as I felt it important to show how compassion had not been killed by the violence that sewed seeds of fear, tension and mistrust in the population and, of course, the nurse's cape is by itself a symbol of healing and compassion.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">As is my wont, I used a hoop to enclose a small area of the cape to achieve the stitching and it was when I was looking at the back of the stitching after much of it was done that I was struck by the power of this rear of the stitches.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fK5eJfKJ--w/YFnKShrFiFI/AAAAAAAACPk/t1CeojAZapoifO9Q86BiWwiaj-yjzU2KgCLcBGAsYHQ/s1022/Eileen%2BHarrisson%2BNurse%2527s%2Bcape%2Bstitching%2Bof%2Bgirl%2Bseen%2Bfrom%2Brear%2Bof%2Bfabric%2Blow%2Bres%2BMay%2B2019%2Bcopy.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1022" data-original-width="1000" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-fK5eJfKJ--w/YFnKShrFiFI/AAAAAAAACPk/t1CeojAZapoifO9Q86BiWwiaj-yjzU2KgCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Eileen%2BHarrisson%2BNurse%2527s%2Bcape%2Bstitching%2Bof%2Bgirl%2Bseen%2Bfrom%2Brear%2Bof%2Bfabric%2Blow%2Bres%2BMay%2B2019%2Bcopy.jpeg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">Girl seen from rear of fabric</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">For me, <span style="text-align: left;">the stitches here have a raw quality not evident from the front that somehow lends the image a greater universality than the more obvious image of the young woman. The empty, open cavity of the mouth and pits of dark fabric that signify the eyes act to emphasise the horror of the moment of violence.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: left;">On the new hanging, I am using this rear view printed out digitally in different guises; solidly as here against the deep, dark navy of the background, ghostly and pale with an ethereal quality given to it by the transparency of organza fabric and, printed in a smaller version, set within a larger rectangle of cotton silk-painted in red.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: left;">The hanging will be long, floor-length and is designed to witness not only to the conflict of the Troubles but also to point to the importance of forgiveness and reconciliation without which the Peace Process could never have happened. Peace and the continuing path of reconciliation need now to be preserved within the uncertainty of the current political situation brought about not by the Covid-19 pandemic but by Brexit with all its problems surrounding the border and much more.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: left;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="text-align: left;">More images will follow as the hanging progresses and there is also an article I wrote on my work for a Special Issue of Contemporary Voices; The St. Andrews Journal of International Relations which will be due to be published fairly soon - news on this in due course.</span></div>Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-31149185774368064742020-12-29T03:54:00.001-08:002020-12-29T03:55:43.425-08:00Christmas Poem and Image<p> I wrote a poem with a Christmas ethos a little earlier this year and it has been published in the December issue of EGO magazine, a monthly publication on all things Aberystwyth and beyond. This is the poem:-</p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><b>A Son</b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> (listening to Spiegel im Spiegel by Arvo Pärt)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">Slowly, slowly, heartbeat of</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">piano's melody lays steady</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">path where bow of violin</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">enters and breathes across</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">strings, together flow in</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">spirit of sustaining song,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">harmony of eternal</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">spheres -</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">and there was</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> a star once, pulsating</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">glimmer-shimmer from</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">farthest heavens, voiced in</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">light from light message for</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">present, for future, for time</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">beyond time . . . . He is</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> here, come</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">to be with you, laugh with</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">you, weep and proffer</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">gentlest of arms to enfold</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">you in warmth</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> unimaginable . . . . </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">of woman born, passed</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">through fabric of pain,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">passage of earthly flesh</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">to love</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> everlasting . . .</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> He is my son,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">infant grown become man</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">with humanity who was,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">is God - He is my son,</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"> listen to Him.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">I submitted the poem with a couple of possible images to Kiran Sharma, poetry editor of the magazine in November. Kiran liked the poem and published it together with the image 'The Cloths of Joy', a detail from one of my embroidered pieces.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Nnc-vm0-_9I/X-sXrM9_OWI/AAAAAAAACLc/T6-4oJyvXVs7H2-KdLr9XHKza-ZsgCUaQCLcBGAsYHQ/image.png" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="587" height="240" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/-Nnc-vm0-_9I/X-sXrM9_OWI/AAAAAAAACLc/T6-4oJyvXVs7H2-KdLr9XHKza-ZsgCUaQCLcBGAsYHQ/image.png" width="183" /></a></div><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">The Cloths of Joy</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;">(detail)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">The two appear together on page 104 of the magazine and below is the link to the publication.</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://ego.today/current/" style="text-align: center;">https://ego.today/current/</a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">Warmest wishes to all for 2021!</div></div>Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-59719481048681611842020-04-25T06:07:00.000-07:002020-04-25T08:03:15.881-07:00Arpillera Doll Virtual ExhibitionJust now I'm concentrating on preparing for my final exhibition for my Phd which was scheduled to take place next March 2021. It might still happen then, I'm not sure but I'll keep on getting everything ready!<br />
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In the meantime, while doing mostly the PhD work for now, I have taken part in an Arpillera Doll Virtual Exhibition in connection with Conflict Textiles. My husband, Arthur, photographed the little doll that I made cradled in the palm of my hand and she features on the exhibition poster, seen below.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0o2nzV2kDVE/XqL8AChaRrI/AAAAAAAACB8/n-EXSv4LoMMDR7hRF3z2Yyoo0FJcooWXQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Arpillera%2BDoll%2BOnline%2BExhibition%2BPoster%2BApril%2B2020.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="600" data-original-width="426" height="320" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0o2nzV2kDVE/XqL8AChaRrI/AAAAAAAACB8/n-EXSv4LoMMDR7hRF3z2Yyoo0FJcooWXQCLcBGAsYHQ/s320/Arpillera%2BDoll%2BOnline%2BExhibition%2BPoster%2BApril%2B2020.jpg" width="227" /></a></div>
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The idea for an arpillera doll exhibition originated with the exhibition <b>Embracing Human Rights: Conflict Textiles' Journey</b> curated by Roberta Bacic in the <a href="https://www.roevalleyarts.com/" target="_blank">Roe Valley Arts and Cultural Centre,</a> Limavady, Co. Londondery which was to be ongoing until 16th May 2020 but, due to the present situation, can now be visited online. The centre's Kids Activity Section had issued an invitation to make your own arpillera doll in connection with the online version of the exhibition and this prompted the widening out of the doll-making activity.<br />
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Pieces in the exhibition were sourced within the boundaries of Northern Ireland which meant that those held farther afield, such as mine in Wales, were not included on this occasion but the invitation to make a doll connected to one of the pieces exhibited was expanded to include not only original exhibitors but also those such as myself who have a close association with Conflict Textiles.<br />
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Among the works exhibited, I was drawn particularly to <i style="font-weight: bold;">Mi Guernica/My Gernika </i>by Edurne Mestraitua. I found this a very moving piece through its imagery and colour palette and also when I read the story behind the <i>arpillera</i>. Edurne's mother lived through the terrible day of bombardment in Guernica in which so many of the townspeople died and, though she told her daughter about her experience repeatedly, she did this only in her later years and Edurne's father, who lived through the same event, never spoke about it. <i style="font-weight: bold;">Mi Guernica/My Gernika </i>can be seen <a href="https://cain.ulster.ac.uk/conflicttextiles/search-quilts2/fulltextiles1/?id=406#" target="_blank">here</a>.<br />
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It may be that I was drawn to this piece especially because of associations with my own experience of the Troubles in Northern Ireland. My living and working in Belfast in the mid 1970s - early 1980s meant that I was in the city at the height of the Troubles and I experienced many incidents from witnessing rioting and explosions to being caught up in them. There was one particular bomb blast in which I was convinced I had lost my life - it turned out I had lost consciousness and all feelings of bodily reality for a time but I gradually realised that I was still alive in this mortal being after all!<br />
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Edurne has modelled her interpretation of her mother's memories of the bombardment through Picasso's painting <b style="font-style: italic;">Guernica. </b>The lace on my doll's dress echoes the lace on Edurne's <i>arpillera </i>and the red of her dress connects with the flames in <i style="font-weight: bold;">Mi Guernica/My Gernika. </i><span style="font-weight: bold;">O</span><span style="font-weight: bold;">ther colours which Edurne has used in her <i>arpillera</i> are </span>greys and as with Picasso's<i style="font-weight: bold;"> </i><i style="font-weight: bold;">Guernica, </i>blacks and whites feature prominently. These relate strongly to many of my pieces on conflict and also to the colours that are important in my poem <i style="font-weight: bold;"><a href="https://soundcloud.com/eileengrace19/belfast-lagan-revisited" target="_blank">Belfast: Lagan Revisited</a> </i>which you can hear me reading on SoundCloud and which begins:-<br />
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It was <b>black</b> and <span style="color: red;">red</span> then<br />
shadows <b>darker</b> than <b>coal . . .</b><br />
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The poem is based around a particular evening in Belfast when multiple bombs were exploding in the city and I had to walk along unfamiliar streets to get to the train station from the Central Library where I was working at the time so that I could get home to the village of Groomsport where I lived. There was fire everywhere, buildings darkly anonymous and smoke billowed into the sky. The vivid memory of that night has not faded over the years so I feel I could relate in a small way to the dreadful happening in Guernica and how the trauma of such an event stays in the mind. <span style="text-align: center;">My little doll is dressed in those colours of <i><b>Mi Guernica/My Gernika </b></i>and of Belfast aflame.</span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cdeIj-mlmbA/XqQJUZTgeSI/AAAAAAAACCI/MwZ0z-iouTUfYaHc2UDX9AsaDeDe2Db2QCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Doll%2Bfor%2BMi%2BGuernica%2BApril%2B2020%2Blow%2Bres.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="929" data-original-width="700" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-cdeIj-mlmbA/XqQJUZTgeSI/AAAAAAAACCI/MwZ0z-iouTUfYaHc2UDX9AsaDeDe2Db2QCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/Doll%2Bfor%2BMi%2BGuernica%2BApril%2B2020%2Blow%2Bres.jpeg" width="301" /></a></div>
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Here she is against the wood of a table.</div>
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At first, I didn't have a name for my little doll but I have decided to call her Maria Chiara because Maria (or Mary) speaks to me of the name of Mary the Mother of God and of Mary Magdalene, first witness to Christ's resurrection and Chiara (Claire) means clear, light, luminous. This quality of light is important because my little doll is gentle. She carries the sorrowful memories in the crosses on her apron but her features are benign because she looks on the world with gentleness. Her experience has not made her bitter because she knows that love wins out over the blows of hatred and violence. She is a witness to the conflict but it has not destroyed her spirit. She has a fragility and so I cradle her but she has strength, too. She is a survivor and this has resonances with these strangest of times that we find ourselves living in in these early years of the twenty-first century. If we work together, despite all the arguments and debates, mistakes and problems that confront us and that we ourselves create, humankind can and has overcome terrifying situations that the world has seen throughout history. Many are suffering now but many are also working to find a way through and we all of us can play our part in helping the world survive.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0fHpwFgpEG4/XqQfOOeCEOI/AAAAAAAACCU/G47n0h7qIAQIAvuusnC3NBU0j7dImn4sQCLcBGAsYHQ/s1600/Doll%2BMaria%2BChiara%2Bin%2Bbox%2Bon%2Bwork%2Btable%2BApril%2B2020%2Blow%2Bres.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="795" data-original-width="1000" height="317" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0fHpwFgpEG4/XqQfOOeCEOI/AAAAAAAACCU/G47n0h7qIAQIAvuusnC3NBU0j7dImn4sQCLcBGAsYHQ/s400/Doll%2BMaria%2BChiara%2Bin%2Bbox%2Bon%2Bwork%2Btable%2BApril%2B2020%2Blow%2Bres.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
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My work as witness to conflict and to peace continues and Maria Chiara now sits in one of my thread boxes beside me as I work.</div>
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<br />Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-58454846733316880342019-08-26T02:19:00.000-07:002019-08-26T02:19:55.893-07:00The PhD: the BeginningThis is another poem which I wrote after starting work on my visuals. I am listening to other survivors' stories from the height of the Troubles and, stitching and painting about some of the things that happened, memories come back to me of my own experiences.<br />
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There was one particular event when I completely believed myself to be dead and was somewhat surprised to find myself still on this side of the grave! In truth, this experience has never left me. One of the no-warning bombs went off and I felt the push of the blast. I was at Queen's University in Belfast to attend a lecture but the lecturer had been delayed in London so the lecture had to be cancelled. This turned out to be quite providential, as the room where the lecture was to be held caught the full force of the blast - afterwards, it was a complete mess of broken glass and splintered wood. I had only recently graduated, so I went instead to a nearby room to consult career journals.<br />
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As the bomb went off, everything in the room seemed to melt like jelly, steel shelves shimmering and running like liquid, and I blacked out. I have no recollection of hearing anything, I was probably temporarily deafened but I felt a great excitement when I thought I had gone into death and no thoughts came to me of any anger at the perpetrators. It seemed an amazing thing that I had just died! My presumably last thought had been in connection with the Futurist painters and was, 'Are these molecules actually jumping apart or only appearing to jump apart?' I went down into blackness and emerged into a white light, peaceful, like milk, where I existed purely as thought with no sensation of physical being at all. I waited to be met and to become or be made aware of what existence I now had. It was only when I realised that the little gold sparkles which appeared in the light after some time - I had always hoped it would be pretty! - slowly twisting and turning, really were dust motes shining in the sun that I foun I hadn't died after all! My emergence after this time in the white light, I don't know how long it was, into what was this mortal life, then seemed like the other side of the coin.<br />
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What had happened was that I had been pushed forward into steel shelves housing the journals and had then been hurled backwards, finishing up feet away against a wall. It took some time to think myself back into a physical body, miraculously in one piece, which could move. I had lost consciousness because I had hit my head first at the front and then at the back - I remember the pain and the blinding headaches for days afterwards - but I was alive, I am alive, I have had so much life since.<br />
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<strong><span style="font-size: large;">For the Others</span></strong><br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 21.466665267944336px;"><strong> </strong></span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> In the white light,</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> I survived;</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> I didn’t meet the others then,</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;">those who had gone on that day,</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> or on other days, cruelly</span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><em><span style="font-size: large;">catapulted</span></em> from<span style="mso-tab-count: 1;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> frame of bone and tissue;<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> </span></o:p></span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">ingestion in the mother’s womb;</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> the first breath, cries, smiles, growing,</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> running, laughing, discovering<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>all<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> the sing-song days of life <span style="color: red;">bloodily</span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> <span style="font-size: large;"><em>torn</em> a -p - art</span>, ripped and <em>sh - re - dd ed</em> into<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">silence</span>;<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> no, I didn’t see the others</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> then, nor those who died of</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> <em>grief</em> and consummate sorrow;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I survived;<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> but I hear their cries<span style="font-size: large;"> <em>sorrowing<o:p></o:p></em></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> in my head, so I stitch paths of<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> remembrance, <span style="color: #e06666;">red veining</span> in<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> lines of silk and cotton, </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> <span style="color: red;">blood</span> <span style="color: #cc0000;">red </span> <em>threads </em> that are life and<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> death and hope<o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>and <em>grief</em></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12pt;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> and <span style="font-size: large;">resurrection.</span></span></span>Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-32249431744615255412019-07-27T00:23:00.000-07:002019-07-27T10:05:14.497-07:00Fragility ExhibitionThe <i>Fragility </i>Exhibition with Prism at Hoxton Arches seems to have been and gone so quickly! It's already well over a month since it ended and now we're looking to the next venue, the RBSA Gallery in Birmingham where our exhibition will open on Tuesday 8th October, closing on Saturday 19th October with a Private View on Saturday 12th in the afternoon. I'll be there at the PV and am also stewarding on Sunday 13th in the afternoon.<br />
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I have two works in this exhibition, the wall piece <i><b>A Sacrifice Too Great</b> </i>and little artist's book<i> <b>A Quiet Singing</b>. </i>The wall piece is made up of silk-painted and digitally printed fabrics, opaque and transparent, on a linen base with inclusion of dried flower petals and is hand stitched throughout. The book <b style="font-style: italic;">A Quiet Singing, </b>also all hand stitched, is made up using mostly two different types of paper, linen and silk-painted fabrics.<br />
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<i><b>A Sacrifice Too Great</b></i></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w0IBTPIJN90/XTl-2_AgCmI/AAAAAAAAB3Q/LrsSODthK9Q-Kab-1kCEqzNxplIkbACfwCLcBGAs/s1600/Shadow%2Bof%2Bthe%2Bgunmen%2BMay%2B2019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1183" data-original-width="1040" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w0IBTPIJN90/XTl-2_AgCmI/AAAAAAAAB3Q/LrsSODthK9Q-Kab-1kCEqzNxplIkbACfwCLcBGAs/s400/Shadow%2Bof%2Bthe%2Bgunmen%2BMay%2B2019.jpg" width="351" /></a></div>
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I made this piece thinking of the fragility of society, how a peaceful situation can so quickly become one of terror and uppermost in my mind was what might happen to the position of the border in Ireland following Brexit and what impact this might have for the people of Ulster. The last thing we want is some sort of return to the violence and tension of the Troubles.</div>
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In the piece, the violence is represented by the shadowy figures of the gunmen, seen in this detail above and by the building where an explosion is happening, as seen in the detail below.</div>
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Stitched beneath the gunmen is a little scene from one of the many trips I made to one of my favourite places in Northern Ireland, a beautiful area of water and islands, Strangford Lough. I was born in Newtownards, at the head of the lough and we lived not far from it. In the background behind the water and near-ground islands, are the lilac forms of the Mourne Mountains. I love the water, the springy volcanic soils of the islands, the hills and valleys of the mountains.</div>
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These places were visited in the peaceful years of my childhood and their beauty is locked forever in my soul, the tangy salt of the rippling water, heady coconut smell of gold-yellow whin blossoms, spring of pine needles underfoot on wooded slopes. But the mountains were also visited in my adulthood when they were places where gunmen had hide-outs in the secret folds of the hills and I witnessed this myself on two occasions when men looking at myself and those I was with through binoculars, ran towards us across the fields, rifles in hand. We escaped driving fast on the narrow mountain roads.</div>
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The sleeping child represents both the fragility of humanity and also the vulnerability of children themselves. In sleep especially, the child needs to be safe and protected and one of the cruellest aspects of conflicts, it seems to me, is when the young suffer for the political aims of others particularly when these aims are sought through violent means.</div>
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I thought carefully about what fabric to to use to cover the child. The little boy was originally a drawing then watercolour of my son asleep when he was just under four years old, snuggled up under his favourite blanket. In the original drawing he held a favourite toy-companion not included in this portrayal. The fabrics that I chose to use are some of my silk-painted chiffon and organza, again not in the colours of the blanket in the original painting but in a neutrality of almost autumnal bronze-golds. These fabrics are semi-transparent though I chose not to use this characteristic over the child's form which is curled up and hidden beneath layers of covering. The folds are created through manipulating the fabric into the shapes I want then securing these with the positioning of small running stitches. In my work I use running stitch as I would a brush or pen, choosing the length and direction of every sitch I make and working in this way, the cloth maintains its sculptural folds in this and other pieces with no need of spray or fixative. </div>
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This little figure floating on the linen ground shows just two of the many methods which the textile medium offers the artist, his body and pyjamas formed through through a network of hand stitches and coverings built up using the sculptural properties of the cloth itself.</div>
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My choice of linen as ground fabric is significant in that I have personal connections to the fabric itself and it has a great social and economic significance in Ireland. My grandfather was a designer of embroidery images for Belfast Linens in the early to mid-twentieth century and two of my cousins run a firm producing linen goods in Dublin bequeathed to them by my uncle who first worked for and later became the owner of the firm. The linen industry was very important to the Irish economy and, along with shipbuilding, to the growth of Belfast in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries particularly. Belfast was granted city status in 1888 and the city became the capital of Northern Ireland in 1921 following the formation of Northern Ireland as a political entity in 1920.</div>
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Silk-painted linen pieces are also stitched to the raw ground of the bleached linen where their colour and prominent forms add sombre voices to the work. To use linen fabric within textiles as creative medium brings with it associations of domesticity and familiality and also connotations with the wider economy and society which working with a medium such as oil painting would not do. Linen has a powerful voice and brings with it these associations of industry carried out in peace and domesticity of the family to the images of conflict in my work on the Troubles.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q9tKoE7Rn6g/XTsm4gB4RvI/AAAAAAAAB48/0ZCVv7iuYEQ720yeW6PVsRdWsEMnR2DCACLcBGAs/s1600/Visitor%2Bby%2Bmy%2Bwork%2Bin%2BFragility%2BExhibition%2BHoxton%2BArches%2B2019%2Bslight%2Bcrop%2B%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="861" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-q9tKoE7Rn6g/XTsm4gB4RvI/AAAAAAAAB48/0ZCVv7iuYEQ720yeW6PVsRdWsEMnR2DCACLcBGAs/s400/Visitor%2Bby%2Bmy%2Bwork%2Bin%2BFragility%2BExhibition%2BHoxton%2BArches%2B2019%2Bslight%2Bcrop%2B%25281%2529.jpg" width="215" /></a></div>
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Visitor looking at <b style="font-style: italic;">A Sacrifice Too Great </b>in Hoxton Arches Gallery, London</div>
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The wall piece then speaks of the vulnerability of both humanity and society and the little book <i style="font-weight: bold;">A Quiet Singing </i>takes the discussion further to speak about the violence of the conflict of the Troubles but also the level of reconciliation achieved after the Peace Process of the late 1990s and the desire to continue living with this peace, however imperfect and despite tragic breakings that have occurred. Poems also speak of human relationships and the power of love.</div>
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Front cover of <b><i>A Quiet Singing</i></b></div>
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The book includes images and five complete poems and is made up using Saunders Waterford paper 300 gsm with its lovely smooth surface, ideal for the words of the poems, the textured surface of Indian rag paper and fabrics including linen, cotton, organza and silk-painted mulberry bark.<br />
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The poem <i style="font-weight: bold;">Belfast: Lagan Revisited </i>is the second one on the book and starts with the lines:<br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">It
was </span><b style="font-family: Calibri;">black</b><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> and </span><b style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="color: #c00000;">red</span></b><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> then;</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">shadows
<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">darker </b>than <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">coal<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: red; font-family: "calibri";">blood-bright</span></b><span style="color: red; font-family: "calibri";"> </span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">puddles
reflect<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: red; font-family: "calibri";">flames</span></i></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: red; font-family: "calibri";"> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></b></span></i><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: red; font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">shooting</span></i><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>high, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="color: #c00000;">co</span><span style="color: red;">lour</span></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 12.0pt;">the night sky;</span><!--EndFragment-->
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<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 12.0pt;">The words of poem go over two pages in the book and this is </span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">the first page</span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3UtDrJAWljc/XTq9eprICFI/AAAAAAAAB4k/NwX-V4KMR9E5OyfN7fxnjs-uvJ-HoLOmACLcBGAs/s1600/Belfast%2BLagan%2BRevisited%2Bduring%2Bmaking%2Bof%2Bthe%2Bbook%2BA%2BQuiet%2BSinging.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1399" data-original-width="1600" height="348" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-3UtDrJAWljc/XTq9eprICFI/AAAAAAAAB4k/NwX-V4KMR9E5OyfN7fxnjs-uvJ-HoLOmACLcBGAs/s400/Belfast%2BLagan%2BRevisited%2Bduring%2Bmaking%2Bof%2Bthe%2Bbook%2BA%2BQuiet%2BSinging.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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This image shows the book during making</div>
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As you will have seen from the above excerpt, colour features prominently in this poem and I used the properties of the organza itself to enhance what the words are saying. Silk-painted in red, the organza fabric was cut into sections that were hand-stitched together then placed within a 'frame' of Saunders Waterford paper. Although the fabric page was created in a relationship with the poem that follows, it also forms a page in its own right and words from the poem and beyond are hand written on the fabric's paper 'frame'.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4Xcdiy4kjaU/XTstZfYR9eI/AAAAAAAAB5U/rQQmgydwEwYNnF3VAJ6ZaLKk2xGcPXzEACLcBGAs/s1600/Organza%2Bpage%2Bfrom%2BA%2BQuiet%2BSinging%2B%2BJuly%2B2019%2Blow%2Bres.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="821" data-original-width="1450" height="226" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4Xcdiy4kjaU/XTstZfYR9eI/AAAAAAAAB5U/rQQmgydwEwYNnF3VAJ6ZaLKk2xGcPXzEACLcBGAs/s400/Organza%2Bpage%2Bfrom%2BA%2BQuiet%2BSinging%2B%2BJuly%2B2019%2Blow%2Bres.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
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The organza page in its finished form. This also illustrates how the words of the poem are seen through the fabric.</div>
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The poem <i style="font-weight: bold;">Gift: for my Father </i>is another of the poems featured and included with it is this <b><i>Portrait of my</i></b> <b><i>Father</i></b>. The image is a photograph of an embroidery digitally printed onto cotton and mounted on Indian rag paper.<br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w7VbLaxNCSg/XTmTsE1UGkI/AAAAAAAAB4Y/sxgSUnnI4B0fuRHulHvnyw0x7iqace_-QCLcBGAs/s1600/Portrait%2Bof%2Bmy%2BFather%2Bfrom%2BA%2BQuiet%2BSinging%2Blow%2Bres.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="746" data-original-width="1000" height="297" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-w7VbLaxNCSg/XTmTsE1UGkI/AAAAAAAAB4Y/sxgSUnnI4B0fuRHulHvnyw0x7iqace_-QCLcBGAs/s400/Portrait%2Bof%2Bmy%2BFather%2Bfrom%2BA%2BQuiet%2BSinging%2Blow%2Bres.jpeg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">My father died in December 1991 and I wrote the poem for him in the autumn just about a year after he had died in words that came to me as I thought about him while listening to the wonderful cadences of Barber's <i style="font-weight: bold;">Adagio. </i>Music has an almost mystical power to move us and reach into the very core of our being and, although on revision I have played about with the position of the words, especially later in the poem, the words themselves remain essentially as they came to me to the flow of the violins from somewhere in the very depths of my soul. The image has featured in the MA Anthology<b> <i>a </i>Grain <i>of</i> Sand</b> published by Aberystwyth University and the poem begins:-</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Beyond the window, wan grey sky<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">seeps onto rooftops, clothes-line<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">drips the reign of autumn;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">within the room, I sit, still,<b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><o:p></o:p></span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">close my eyes and follow <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">strings of violins sing sounds<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">of Barber’s ‘Adagio’, <i>silk</i>,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">beneath sparrow’s pipe-trilled <i>pizzicato</i>;<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I feel that when I am writing poetry, it is a process akin to writing music which I have also done during my life - many years ago, music almost became my main area of study and although my life moved in a different direction, the rhythms and sounds of music have continued to remain an important part of my creative process in the various media in which I work - colour, cloth, stitches, words - and I have at home a piano and a guitar which are precious to me.</span><br />
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One of the book's closing pages</div>
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Pictured here are <b><i>A Sacrifice Too Great</i></b> and <b><i>A Quiet Singing</i></b> on exhibition in Hoxton Arches Gallery. White cotton gloves were supplied so that visitors could safely look through the book and this method worked well in the exhibition with visitors making use of the gloves to examine what they wanted of the book.<br />
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Visitor making use of the gloves to look through the book</div>
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<br />Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-8986697681026411872019-04-24T10:24:00.000-07:002019-04-24T10:33:57.193-07:00After LyraI haven't been keeping up with my blog for some time but I felt I must do this post today after watching the funeral of journalist Lyra McKee in St. Anne's Cathedral, Belfast.<br />
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What I am going to put in is a poem I actually wrote a couple of years ago that puts forward fears I had concerning what might happen to and within Northern Ireland in relation to Brexit. I was born and grew up in Co. Down and, after studying in Aberystwyth for my initial degree, returned to Ireland to work in Belfast at the height of the Troubles.<br />
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This was a very difficult time and, on one occasion, I was caught up in a bombing incident that led me to believe myself to be dead. At this time, I was a couple of years younger than Lyra and, not to tell the whole story just now, I felt thrown into a white light by the blast; formless and bodiless, I waited to find out just what form my spiritual being might now take and, after some time had passed, came to realise with great astonishment that the golden sparkles drifting and twinking before and around me heralded my continuing being in this mortal existence!<br />
<br />
The experience had given me the overwhelming feeling that life and death were two sides of the same coin and, somehow, I was still on this mortal side and I have been for several decades since.<br />
<br />
I have tried not to waste my time but have tried to live, in love, as best I can and use what I've been given. Sometimes, the onslaughts of my illness make me feel not up to the struggle to continue but I know how precious life is and I take measures to help, physical and spiritual, aided not least with Arthur's continuing love and support and the love and support of family and friends. One day, I won't be able to continue and the only things I fear about this are perhaps not being able to finish things started here or that are in my head still to do and the other, of course, the wrench of parting from loved ones. But this parting will not be forever, it is the love that is eternal and everything done in and for love will not end in pain but in a depth of love so warm and so joyful, it cannot be expressed in words or contained within this mortal frame.<br />
<br />
At this time, as well as the shooting that killed Lyra McKee, we have too, the dreadful sense of futlity and pain following the appalling violence and loss of life in New Zealand and Sri Lanka; but the cruelty and blind ideologies that led to this taking of life pale before the strength of compassion and love that reach out after such atrocities; they will not have the last word.<br />
<br />
This poem then, is, with the greatest of sadness but in the hope and unity of love, for Lyra.<br />
<br />
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">Recurrence<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri"; mso-ascii-theme-font: major-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: major-latin;">I draw words
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 12.0pt;"> for
what? </span><!--EndFragment-->Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-46050906949095979212019-03-14T05:26:00.001-07:002019-03-14T05:26:37.828-07:00Poetry and Prints at Mid Wales Arts CentreAn exhibition with a difference this time for me, as I'll be there as a poet rather than an artist!<br />
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Normally, I would give readings of my poems at exhibitions of my artwork but this time I am taking part purely in my role as poet! I've had to move away from etching at the moment but that doesn't stop me enjoying the work of others and I have responded to the print <b><i>Flora-1</i></b> in a new exhibition opening very soon at Mid Wales Arts Centre.<br />
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Cathy at MWAC has done a light, airy barn conversion to extend her lovely gallery space and I'll be going both to the opening of the <b>Poetry and Prints Exhibition</b> on Sunday 24th March then I'll return on Sunday 31st March to read my poem <i><b>Nocturnal Whispers</b></i> at the special <b>Poetry Event</b> organised by Pat Edwards.<br />
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I know some of the artists and poets but will be meeting others for the first time. Really looking forward to seeing all the prints exhibited, reading my poem and meeting and talking with everyone!<br />
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<br />Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-50486365830306635262018-10-31T04:55:00.000-07:002018-10-31T04:55:21.851-07:00Talk and Workshop Limavady October 2018As part of the <b>War-Torn Children Exhibition </b>in the Roe Valley Arts and Cultural Centre, Limavady County Londonderry in which I have my piece <i style="font-weight: bold;">Her Pillow, the Earth, </i>I gave a talk/workshop to a group of specially invited artists, practitioners and those with a special interest in stitch in October in conjunction with the exhibition.<br />
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<i style="font-weight: bold; text-align: start;">Her Pillow, the Earth</i></div>
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This is my piece <i style="font-weight: bold; text-align: start;">Her Pillow, the Earth </i><span style="text-align: start;">and, at</span> the Opening of the <b>War-Torn Children Exhibition </b>in the Roe Valley Arts and Cultural Centre, Limavady, Brenda Chivers, Mayor of Causeway Coast and Glens Borough Council, curator Roberta Bacic and Billy Coyles who hung the exhibition were photographed by my piece.</div>
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I enjoyed giving the talk and doing the workshop afterwards with the participants.</div>
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Giving the talk. </div>
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The centre supplied a nice big screen for my Powerpoint images and also had the necessary equipment for the sound elements of my presentation.</div>
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Getting going with the materials</div>
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Discussing techniques</div>
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Choosing the fabric</div>
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A moment's distraction!</div>
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The work continues</div>
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A little discussion at the end of the workshop</div>
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It was a pleasure to get together with those I already knew and to meet others I hadn't met or worked with before. The exhibition came about largely due to Roberta Bacic of Conflict Textiles and more about this organisation can be found on their website <a href="http://cain.ulster.ac.uk/conflicttextiles/">conflicttextiles</a> with some more photographs of the workshop taken by Breege Doherty at <a href="http://cain.ulster.ac.uk/conflicttextiles/mediafiles/1200_photo-gallery-EHarrisson-wshop-050918-BD.pdf">1200_photo-gallery-EHarrisson-wshop-050918-BD.pdf</a></div>
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Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-827761768825180562018-10-30T05:09:00.000-07:002018-10-30T05:09:29.516-07:00Willow Gallery Exhibition as part of the Wilfred Owen Festival Oswestry 2018 Exhibtions this year have been concentrationg on my conflict work as the PhD progresses. After <b>In a New Light</b> the two main shows have been for the Willow Gallery, Oswestry's <b>War and Poetry,</b> <b>Conflict and Peace Exhibition </b>22nd September - 11th November 2018 and <b>War-Torn Children Exhibition </b>5th September - 29th November 2018<b> </b>in the Roe Valley Arts and Cultural Centre, Limavady, County Londonderry. The Willow Gallery Exhibition is on as part of the <b>Wilfred Owen Festival</b>, Oswestry which has a rich and varied programme of exhibitions and events, music and literature.<br />
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I have titled my work for the Willow Gallery <b>Conflict and Redemption </b>and it features a spread of pieces on this theme including wall pieces, film, three-dimensional textile and sound. In theme, the range covers comment on World War I with <i style="font-weight: bold;">Requiem: les Fleurs du Mal, </i>a detail from which is shown below, to pieces based on my experiences of the Troubles in Northern lreland to the work <i><b>Continuum </b></i>which includes images relating to the two world wars as well as the Troubles and it was made as an expression of sorrow at the ongoing presence of armed conflicts in the world.<br />
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<b><i>Requiem: les Fleurs du Mal</i></b> (detail)</div>
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<i><b>Continuum</b></i> and other pieces in Willow Gallery 2018</div>
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Pieces in this exhibition featured those shown in Mid Wales Arts Centre in autumn 2017 and more. I carried on with some work towards the exhibition over the summer, including during our wonderful stay in the lovely gîte in Brittany where we have been several times. It's great and slightly different every time! I always bring my work with me - stitching on the patio in the beautiful garden in warm Breton sunshine, what's not to like!</div>
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Self on the patio at the gîte with stitch, books etc and the nurse's cape over me!</div>
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It had been very hot in the afternoon, too hot even to work outside but the evening was perfect! I so love having the nurse's cape; that it is one worn by a nurse from the hospital I was both patient in and worked in makes it very special to me and I stitch into it with love. There is something about touching a garment that is not just a theatrical costume to stand in for a role but this cape was worn by someone when she came off duty as I would have worn mine. I loved my cape! The heavy wool is incredibly warm and wrapping it around you felt and feels like a protective blanket - I have put blanket stitch all round the hem of the cape because of its various connotations. The cape's previous owner had also stitched her name into it using red thread; it has a history unknown to me, I am giving it a new one or perhaps more adding to what has already been, even though I don't know exactly what that was.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MLiXFspvBls/W9Rb6QAHW4I/AAAAAAAABs8/feD7EE9mds0BuS21WfDfC3vh0Qw4O67DACLcBGAs/s1600/Self%2Bon%2Bpatio%2Bwith%2Bstitch%2Bb%2BSept%2B2018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1583" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-MLiXFspvBls/W9Rb6QAHW4I/AAAAAAAABs8/feD7EE9mds0BuS21WfDfC3vh0Qw4O67DACLcBGAs/s400/Self%2Bon%2Bpatio%2Bwith%2Bstitch%2Bb%2BSept%2B2018.jpg" width="395" /></a></div>
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Another little view of self and cape etc</div>
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On the extreme left you can just see the table-tennis table with its protective blue cover hanging by it. A couple of years ago on a previous holiday, I played wheelchair table-tennis with Ed. We had great fun!</div>
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The cape in what I call the 'Survivor's Corner' installation, part of the exhibition in the Willow Gallery. (taken with Arthur's camera)</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6W0zXK-pqmo/W9RmclqD5xI/AAAAAAAABtU/i-Yl-OrjBrgUO7u0JMYgLdWMLV8kMS3KwCLcBGAs/s1600/Willow%2BGallery%2Bpieces%2Bon%2Bexhibition%2Bincluding%2Bcape%2Bcorner%2BOct%2B2018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1115" data-original-width="1600" height="443" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-6W0zXK-pqmo/W9RmclqD5xI/AAAAAAAABtU/i-Yl-OrjBrgUO7u0JMYgLdWMLV8kMS3KwCLcBGAs/s640/Willow%2BGallery%2Bpieces%2Bon%2Bexhibition%2Bincluding%2Bcape%2Bcorner%2BOct%2B2018.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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A wider view of the gallery including cape and other pieces.</div>
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The headphones on the wall are for a sound track that features different voices reading my poem '<b>Fragments'</b> with the augmented sound of stitch. The voices and sound of stitch weaving in and out of one another echo in sound the multiple visual layers of fabric and thread. I felt this track was particularly appropriate for the piece on the left, <i style="font-weight: bold;">Street Violence </i>with its repeated figures<i style="font-weight: bold;"> </i>and also for <i style="font-weight: bold;">Requiem: les Fleurs du Mal </i>with its multiple crosses.</div>
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On top of the cabinet is another set of headphones by the screen that shows the film <i><b>Continuum</b></i>.</div>
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Detail of stitching on cape.</div>
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The imagery on the cape is an evolving process and it now includes the 'Falls Road' stitched in English and Gaelic. The hospital is situated on the Falls Road. There will be more images, including words, as time goes on until I feel the work is finished. I start pieces with an idea of what I'm doing but then grow the artwork in an organic process whereby I respond to what the work is saying to me. The image of the baby has various significances to me; the infant represents the vulnerability of a young child, bringing to mind my own children and also the time when, as a student nurse, I was put in charge of the baby section of the ward where I was working. This was just my second ward and it was then that I held a baby for the first time! </div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IaguxfoVAgY/W9g7t0BeBoI/AAAAAAAABt8/pKWsPexzSHQO-HBHiMgBcqwX-YF2kapzACLcBGAs/s1600/Section%2Bof%2Bcape%2Bwith%2Blettering%2Band%2Bedge%2Bof%2BCeltic%2BCross%2BOct%2B2018%2Blow%2Bres%2Bcopy.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="748" data-original-width="900" height="529" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IaguxfoVAgY/W9g7t0BeBoI/AAAAAAAABt8/pKWsPexzSHQO-HBHiMgBcqwX-YF2kapzACLcBGAs/s640/Section%2Bof%2Bcape%2Bwith%2Blettering%2Band%2Bedge%2Bof%2BCeltic%2BCross%2BOct%2B2018%2Blow%2Bres%2Bcopy.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The cape with more lettering and glimpse of imagery including a Celtic Cross.</div>
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I have always loved the form of the Celtic Cross and feel it is something that can be claimed, if that is the right word, by both 'sides' of Ulster's religious divide. Two such crosses that stand out in my mind are one that I saw at Saul near Downpatrick, Co. Down and the other by the abbey on Iona. The cross on the cape is drawn from the Iona cross.</div>
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The nurse's cape represents the compassion that arises when conflicts break out. There are those who perpetrate the violence but, conversely, those who try to do something against it and who offer help to the suffering. Another of my works that speaks of peace is <i style="font-weight: bold;">A Belfast Peace: In the Name of Peace, </i>pictured below. </div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Yxug6oxlgio/W9hBLSGs2MI/AAAAAAAABuI/YCu5opPn2bMRhksmZTl56rczcnumR5r6ACLcBGAs/s1600/A%2BBelfast%2BPeace%2BIn%2Bthe%2BName%2Bof%2BPeace%2Blow%2Bres%2BMay%2B2017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="933" data-original-width="700" height="640" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Yxug6oxlgio/W9hBLSGs2MI/AAAAAAAABuI/YCu5opPn2bMRhksmZTl56rczcnumR5r6ACLcBGAs/s640/A%2BBelfast%2BPeace%2BIn%2Bthe%2BName%2Bof%2BPeace%2Blow%2Bres%2BMay%2B2017.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<b><i>A Belfast Peace: In the Name of Peace</i></b></div>
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This shows the work photographed in its entirety, including border with words taken from my poetry. Unusually for me, this is an etching and aquatint which I stitched into. The incident speaks of the candlelit vigil that was held outside Belfast City Hall and attended by many people after tragic shootings in 2009 that broke into the peace that had been holding since the 1998 Peace Process Agreement. First two young soldiers were shot dead then a policeman and poeple came out in peaceful protest against these actions thought to have been carried out by dissident republicans.</div>
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<b><i>A Belfast Peace: Beneath the Surface</i></b></div>
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This is the companion work to <b style="font-style: italic;">A Belfast Peace: In the Name of Peace </b>and this time speaks of the tensions that lie beneath the peace that has brought such prosperity and changed living not just to Belfast but to N. Ireland generally. The figures which are seen in both works are drawn from photographs I took of bronze statues of Titanic workers on the Newtownards Road in Protestant East Belfast and the image behind them is of the sculpture <i style="font-weight: bold;">Rise </i>situated in Catholic West Belfast by the motorway where it links to the Falls Road. This sculpture which represents hope can be seen from a long way across the city. These sculptures cannot be seen together in reality but are placed together in my artwork as a hope that the divisions between sections of society that still exist in N. Ireland can one day be, if not dissolved, at least accepted in respect not just by those who already live in peace in this way but by everyone of all religions and none.</div>
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Before I started to make visual pieces on the Troubles, I had started to express my sorrow at what was happening in poetry and I gave a poetry reading/performance of my poems as part of the <b>War and Poetry,</b> <b>Conflict and Peace Exhibition</b> Opening in the Willow Gallery. As we approach Armistice Day and the celebration of the end of the First World War 100 years ago, I'm now going to give another reading of my poetry on Saturday 3rd November at 12 noon.</div>
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Self seen on the right beneath one of my pieces and audience during my poetry reading/performance in the Willow Gallery 22nd September 2018.</div>
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Myself in action during the reading!</div>
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<b><i><br /></i></b>Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-78223022172296944192018-05-16T09:04:00.001-07:002018-05-17T08:07:52.519-07:00In a New Light: Celebrating the PreciousThe most recent exhibition I have taken part in was in School of Art Gallery 1, Aberystwyth University and just finished this week. Six of us from the Fine Art PhD Forum group had got together to organise this exhibition in which we all chose an item from the School of Art and Museum's extensive collection and made new work prompted by our chosen piece. Part of the impetus behind the exhibition was that this year, the School of Art celebrates 100 years of teaching art at Aberystwyth and also making a new work directly inspired by a piece or artefact from the School's collection hadn't been dome before.<br />
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I chose <i style="font-weight: bold;">Crucifixion 1927 </i>by David Jones because of the multiple imagery that accorded with the layering of my stitched pieces, his spirituality and also the affinity I felt between the marks of his wood engraving and my own hand stitch. I gave my section the title <b><i>Reconciliation Path</i></b>.<br />
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This view shows the wall in the gallery that was dedicated to most of my work on exhibition - one further piece <i style="font-weight: bold;">Futility </i>was shown on the opposite wall.</div>
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This is the print <b><i>Crucifixion</i></b> by David Jones. It is a wood engraving on white Japanese paper made for <b><i>Llyfr y Pregeth-wr; the Book of Ecclesiastes</i></b> published by the Gregynog Press.</div>
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The Book is seen here in its box in the display cabinet, Gallery 1, the School of Art.</div>
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The image here is of the whole cabinet and shows the book beside the artefacts chosen by Carmen Mills for her work - they made a nice display together.</div>
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When I started looking at the print, I began my ideas for work by sketching from the print:-</div>
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Initial sketch from the print.</div>
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I then began thinking along the lines of a piece in multiple imagery, as David Jones had done with his print and I have often done with my textile pieces and installations, so I began with a pen and ink sketch comprising images from my own drawings:-</div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kK28KFb-rqk/WvQPA3VpOGI/AAAAAAAABl8/Ra0mrj5F-C4p0KKYmuYmlYi_pupIldvHQCLcBGAs/s1600/Pen%2Band%2Bink%2Bmultiple%2Bideas%2Bsketch%2B2018%2Bfrom%2Bthe%2BCrucifixion%2B1927.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="987" data-original-width="700" height="320" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-kK28KFb-rqk/WvQPA3VpOGI/AAAAAAAABl8/Ra0mrj5F-C4p0KKYmuYmlYi_pupIldvHQCLcBGAs/s320/Pen%2Band%2Bink%2Bmultiple%2Bideas%2Bsketch%2B2018%2Bfrom%2Bthe%2BCrucifixion%2B1927.jpeg" width="226" /></a></div>
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My initial intention had been to make a two-sided hanging in multiple imagery but, as the piece grew and visual ideas developed, it became clear that the issues depicted would be better served by being viewed as two separate hangings, so <b><i>Conflict's Web</i></b> and <b><i>Reconciliation</i></b> were born.</div>
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Gunmen and poppies from <b><i>Conflict's Web</i></b>.</div>
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A central image for the theme of the piece, the armed gunmen are connected to one another and to poppy images by the stitches of the 'web'. The impetus for these figures was a mural of gunmen I had seen in East Belfast, making them originate from a Loyalist organisation. However, I altered the image to make it ambiguous as to which 'side' they might belong to; gunmen maimed, killed and terrorised from both sides of the conflict.</div>
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David Jones drew images of the Passion Flower in his work, drawing full blooms on each side of the embracing couple and a figure at the foot of cross holds high a bunch of the flowers in his hand. This flower is symbolic of Christianity through various parts of the flower relating to Christ and His passion or crucifixion. Within this symbolism, the leaves of the plant are said to represent the holy lance or spear that pierced Christ's side and David Jones has featured many of these leaves in the ground of his print.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">The print by David Jones was destined for a book of
the bible, so it was natural that he should employ a passion flower, symbol of
Christianity. My work, however, </span><span style="font-family: Times;">was not destined for such a purpose and I
decided to use the image of the poppy in all that it symbolises. The poppy has
been used so very many times already but despite the universality of its use, I
think it can still speak to us through the many different ways in which it has
appeared in artworks, through the flower's character of tenacity through
fragility and also in its most common variety, through the petals brightly red
as blood.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">I had made pencil drawings of poppies growing in
our garden and used these images for the poppies on the hangings that I was
making for the exhibition.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">Poppies on the hanging <b><i>Reconciliation . . .</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;"> . . . and as they appeared around the figure in the kitchen, one of the images on the hanging. The original here was a pencil drawing I had made in 1971 of my grandmother in the kitchen which I made into an etching. On the hanging, the etching is reproduced as a digital print on linen, then further stitched into by hand.</span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: Times;">Futility</span></i></b><span style="font-family: Times;"> on exhibition in Gallery 1 in
the <b><i>In a New Light</i></b> Exhibition.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">This doorway image is from my piece <b><i>Aftermath</i></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">This photo of myself by my work in the exhibition
shows my piece <b><i>Destruction's Path</i></b> on my right and behind me, the
main piece <b><i>Aftermath</i></b> with small pieces that formed the complete
work for the exhibition.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">This photo of myself talking with visitors was
taken at the Opening of the Exhibition.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Times;">We had a very good experience exhibiting together
in the School of Art and there were some lovely comments written in the
Visitors' Book about the exhibition in general with some really nice comments about my own work. I also owe thanks to those who contacted me personally to
say how my work had touched them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-48184673187350254752018-05-08T04:11:00.000-07:002018-05-08T08:45:46.416-07:00Exhibiting in DonegalJust a little bit about an exhibition that travelled to Donegal. The exhibition was <i><b>War-Torn Children</b> </i>and was organised under the auspices of <i style="font-weight: bold;">Conflict Textiles, </i>headed by Roberta Bacic who curated the exhibition.<br />
<strong style="color: #383340; font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; margin: 0px; padding: 0px;"><em style="margin: 0px; padding: 0px;">Conflict Textiles </em></strong><span style="background-color: white; color: #383340; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">is home to a large collection of international textiles, exhibitions and associated events, all of which focus on elements of conflict and human rights abuses and is an ‘Associated Site’ of CAIN </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #383340; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">(Conflict Archive on the INternet) at Ulster University, Northern Ireland. If you click on the following link you can find out more about the </span><span style="color: #383340; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px;">organisation and exhibitions put on by it:-</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #383340; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #383340; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"><a href="http://cain.ulster.ac.uk/conflicttextiles/about-2/">http://cain.ulster.ac.uk/conflicttextiles/about-2/</a></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #383340; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">The <i><b>War-Torn Children</b></i> Exhibition included arpilleras, photographs and posters and was shown in the Regional Cultural Centre</span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #383340; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px;"> Letterkenny, artists exhibiting in it bringing into focus the devastating impact of war on children, families and communities. The piece I showed here was <i><b>Her Pillow, the Earth,</b></i> the first time my work has been exhibited in Donegal. I have previously shown in Dublin with exhibiting group <b>Prism</b> whose members, including myself, produce textile inspired art. </span></span></span><br />
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<b style="font-style: italic;">Her Pillow, the Earth </b>full image</div>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #383340; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px;"><br /></span></span></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #383340; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px;">The figure of the child is taken from a drawing I made of my daughter when she was just a toddler. My feeling as I stitched the piece was that, in placing the child in outline surrounded by a sweep of fabric like a shroud on one side and ruined buildings on the other, her fate was slightly ambiguous in that either the child had died or she was a refugee sleeping on the ground. So many children still suffer in our world at the hands of those who wage war and, as I worked, I felt as if the ruined buildings were toppling onto the child and there was nothing I could do about it. I do support groups who strive to help innocent victims everywhere but it seems so difficult to stop the violence erupting in the first place.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #383340; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">More details about the piece and the impetus that led me to create it can be found by using the following link:-</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #383340; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px;"><br /></span></span></span><a href="http://cain.ulster.ac.uk/conflicttextiles/search-quilts/fullevent/?id=184">http://cain.ulster.ac.uk/conflicttextiles/search-quilts/fullevent/?id=184</a><br />
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<span style="color: #383340; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 15px;"><b><i>War-Torn Children</i></b> had previously been </span><span style="font-size: 15px;">shown in the L</span></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #383340; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px;">inen Hall Library, Belfast in spring 2017 and it will travel to the Roe Valley Arts and Cultural later this year where it will be on exhibition from 5th September until 29th November 2018. I will be giving a talk/workshop during the exhibition on Friday 5th October 2018 and further details of events and activities during the exhibition will be posted in due course.</span></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KV5-Yr4sL4U/WvGUUEq30MI/AAAAAAAABjw/6b29u8lLZRgZNLZ51ZL-xCCsHJp4KaOkACLcBGAs/s1600/Roberta%2Bwith%2Bvisitor%2Bby%2BHer%2BPillow%2Bthe%2BEarth%2BWar-Torn%2BChildren%2Blaunch%2BFebruary%2B2018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-KV5-Yr4sL4U/WvGUUEq30MI/AAAAAAAABjw/6b29u8lLZRgZNLZ51ZL-xCCsHJp4KaOkACLcBGAs/s320/Roberta%2Bwith%2Bvisitor%2Bby%2BHer%2BPillow%2Bthe%2BEarth%2BWar-Torn%2BChildren%2Blaunch%2BFebruary%2B2018.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #383340; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px;">This image shows Roberta talking to a visitor about <i style="font-weight: bold;">Her Pillow, the Earth </i>at the launch of the <b><i>War-Torn Children Exhibition</i></b> in Letterkenny.</span></span></span><br />
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MRlGwDIOSVY/WvGVWi5XIdI/AAAAAAAABj4/ovwx93u_aB45oo-TeBOBte2BSoUZHU2lwCLcBGAs/s1600/Roberta%2Bgiving%2Ba%2Bguided%2Btour%2Bof%2Bthe%2Bexhibition%2BFebruary%2B2018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-MRlGwDIOSVY/WvGVWi5XIdI/AAAAAAAABj4/ovwx93u_aB45oo-TeBOBte2BSoUZHU2lwCLcBGAs/s320/Roberta%2Bgiving%2Ba%2Bguided%2Btour%2Bof%2Bthe%2Bexhibition%2BFebruary%2B2018.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Roberta at the Exhibition Opening, <i style="font-weight: bold;">War-Torn Children, </i>February 2018.</div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z9RUHzxYXQU/WvGYBxHIWxI/AAAAAAAABkE/ArIhR1ldUxovtGqjeE8FgFrKrEUj-FvzQCLcBGAs/s1600/Heidi%2BDrahota%2BEileen%2BHarrison%2Band%2BLinda%2BAdams%2Bcopy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="768" data-original-width="1024" height="240" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-z9RUHzxYXQU/WvGYBxHIWxI/AAAAAAAABkE/ArIhR1ldUxovtGqjeE8FgFrKrEUj-FvzQCLcBGAs/s320/Heidi%2BDrahota%2BEileen%2BHarrison%2Band%2BLinda%2BAdams%2Bcopy.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This is my piece in its place between works by Heidi Drahota seen here on the left and Linda Adams on the right. It is my pleasure to have met both artists at previous exhibitions and enjoy talking to them.</div>
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A view of the works in the <b><i>War-Torn Children Exhibition </i>Opening</b> February 2018.</div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #383340; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 15px;"><br /></span></span></span>Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-18282385285961299502018-05-08T04:07:00.003-07:002018-05-08T04:07:17.423-07:00Stitching the capeIn preparing for my <b>Conflict Exhibition </b>in Mid Wales Arts Centre, one of the pieces shown in the exhibition is a nurse's cape that I'm embellishing with stitch. This cape is one actually worn by a nurse whose name is stitched on the inside of the cape and I was very kindly given this cape when I visited the hospital just over a year ago. I had to hand in my cape when I left. The nurse who wore this cape worked in the Royal Victoria Hospital, Belfast and this has direct links with my own history, as I was a student nurse for a while in the Royal Belfast Hospital for Sick Children, until I had to leave because I didn't have enough resistance to infection.<br />
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The two hospitals share the same site and are directly beside one another, though the building I worked in is now being replaced by a new one - I'm not sure if any of the old building will remain.<br />
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A view of the Royal Belfast Hospital for Sick Children</div>
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I will always treasure my time spent as a nurse and perhaps because it was for a limited period, I remember very clearly many of the patients I nursed and wonder how their lives have worked out. I also, of course, recall many of the procedures I learned and feel it was a privilege to have been a part of a team of people dedicated to healing.<br />
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The main front entrance to the old building</div>
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This Hall of Residence for nurses was right by the hospital and I lived here during my time as a nurse. It is being demolished now to make way for a newer building!</div>
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My nursing was in the 1970s , at the height of Northern Ireland's 'Troubles' so working at this time in Belfast involved experiences not always part of nursing sick children. One of these was when a bomb was planted in the carpark of the Children's Hospital - I was on duty at the time and some of the children who were very ill couldn't be moved, so we had to pull down the blinds on the ward and move their little cots as far away from the windows as possible. Mercifully, the bomb was diffused. I have such admiration for the soldiers who perform this hazardous duty. They save so many lives, always at the risk of losing their own.<br />
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The Quiet Room</div>
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This room is for meetings now but when I nursed in the late 1970s, it was the quiet room where the body of a child who had died would be placed. Part of our training was to sit, alone, for an hour with a child's body. This was because a child could die when we were alone on night duty and we had to be able to deal with this situation. I sat once with a young boy who had died owing to leukaemia; he was extremely peaceful and I felt peaceful with him. </div>
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To return to the nurse's cape . . . .</div>
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Self wearing the nurse's cape in Mid Wales Arts Centre at set up of <b><i>Conflict </i></b>Exhibition September 2017</div>
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I had to hand in my cape when I left my nursing but I did love it! Nurses' uniforms have changed so much now and I don't think the capes form part of them any more but those capes that seem to have been worn since the 1900s until recently were so warm! Deep navy in colour and made of heavy, felted wool, they could be lined either in red or blue - a shade in light ultramarine or royal blue, so differentiating clearly from the outer navy hue - and the lining was also wool.<br />
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<span style="text-align: justify;">The cape in position for the </span><b style="text-align: justify;"><i>Conflict</i></b><span style="text-align: justify;"> Exhibition.</span></div>
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A sweep across the gallery with the cape in its corner and more of my pieces on the wall.</div>
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The cap told a story, in this corner of the gallery space, of healing and survival together with the two portraits of my Dad - one in his RAF uniform c 1943 and the second a stitched piece that I made in 2016 from a pencil drawing of him that I had done c 1970. Alongside these were the little cotton scrap from a nightie with the red stitches, a poem to my father, some of my 'The Invitation' books and business cards, mostly the ones with a detail from <b><i>Requiem: les Fleurs du Mal.</i></b></div>
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My father was a survivor of both WW2 and the Troubles. Sadly, he died in 1991 before he could see the Peace Process that got under way just a few years later.</div>
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Stitched portrait of my father.</div>
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With some images on the cape now, there are more that I will do and I have found stitching by hand into the felted wool is quite different to stitching into cotton or linen. Threads of the stitches tend to sink into the wool as I stitch so a slightly different technique is required.</div>
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I am including various images on the cape and am allowing it to grow organically so the whole thing is not planned out beforehand.</div>
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The hospital is situated on the Falls Road, so I have stitched this in Gaelic and English on the cape and beside this, the outline of a baby. The figure of the baby connects with my time nursing children and there is a memory of a particular baby who I nursed that will never leave me. He was only a few months old and we knew we couldn't save him, so care was palliative.</div>
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One day, this tiny child kept down half a feed and smiled at me - I was so joyful for him and had just come from being with him when there was a commotion in the hospital with people running - a six-year-old girl had been shot through the head on the Falls Road. She was rushed to theatre but I don't know if she lived or died. No doubt, the shot had not targeted her deliberately but it seemed so ironic that I had come from a baby who knew nothing of life except how precious it was and how he struggled to keep it. He fought for every breath he took and here was a child whose life may have been taken in an instant - the tragedy of conflict.</div>
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The figure of the girl going to help the wounded victim of a bombing says much to me of healing. I am also stitching cloud/smoke billows around several images on the cape. In Japan, some kimonos are cloud kimonos and my cloud images speak of the smoke from bombings but also of skies where clouds drift in times of conflict and of peace.</div>
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A hankie corner and the blanket stitch is done all round the border of the cape.</div>
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Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-66680153850813244452018-05-08T03:53:00.003-07:002018-05-08T03:54:57.663-07:00Action and reactionSo many people suffer in our world, through experiencing pain in all of its forms, traumas physical and psychological, personal and political distress, fear that encompasses young and old. Something that affects me personally is neuropathic pain. It can come in the night, tends to hit my left leg particularly, and is like being stabbed repetitively by an onslaught of sharp knives. This attack keeps me pinioned on its force and jerking with spasms until it finally subsides. I can't go to sleep again until the knives at least reduce to needles and the perspiration makes these 'several night-clothes' nights. I wake up exhausted with both legs aching despite the barrage of anti-spasm and supposedly pain-killing tablets I take daily. Actually, they do work to a degree, otherwise I would be incapable of doing anything in this life and that is not my way. It is so important to occupy the brain with, for me, thoughts of creativity and it is very important not to dwell on pain.<br />
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Once I am able, I very often stitch. I found years ago that, when my muscles are acting up, hand stitch is just about the only activity my body can do for any length of time; holding my arms in a position to type doesn't last long, my hands don't want to keep writing, painting is impossible and my voice tires very quickly, so a voice-activated computer wouldn't help, so stitch it is and I have found such a wealth of possibilities with this! Another great thing about hand stitch is that it can be carried out even in bed, so my body can get some rest while I work with colours and rhythms in thread and cloth.<br />
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It can still be frustrating, despite my love of stitch, not to be able to carry out other activities when I would like to, even jobs in the house! I used to work as an Art Therapist with the elderly and think of how what I used to say to my patients some years ago now applies to me. Illness often causes, in modern parlance, a necessity to reinvent oneself. My creating artwork with the needle may have come about through illness but it is so important now in fighting against the diminishing of the self. I feel it is vital to turn the negativity of pain, when at all possible, into a positively creative act. My pain is nothing compared to what others go through in this world. To listen to the news or watch it on tv only shows how so many people, from tiny children to the elderly, suffer at the hands of others or through the frailty of the human body.<br />
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Through creating my art, I wish to give to society, not just be a drain on those around me. In restoring my own sense of self worth, I hope that my experiences can also speak to others and that is part of the reason for this work in the PhD. I experienced the Troubles with the distress they brought to so many; now there are terrible problems that we all face and the solutions are so difficult to come by. If only human beings could love much more and not hate - why must intolerance, suspicion and cruelty reign with such appalling force and seem to be so impossible to eradicate? To speak of universal love eventually winning over all that is evil seems, at least as far as this side of the grave is concerned, a naive dream but people do respond with love in this life, not always hate - the dream will just take who knows how long to become a reality but slowly, I hope, we can keep spiralling towards it.<br />
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The following are a few photos of details of the large piece I am working on at the moment, in places complete with pins! They are not perfect representations of the work but will at least give an idea of it for the moment. I find it can be quite frustrating in the effort to achieve a really good image of textile artwork with the camera - highlights and contrasts seem to get exaggerated beyond what they are in reality. I will stitch a little more then spend some time working with the camera to get truer images of the piece.<br />
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This image shows some wreckage from the vehicle. What are we looking at? Are these pieces of metal tubing bits of the vehicle itself or what it held? It is now not possible to know unless perhaps examination from an expert could gradually discover what function these pieces once had. From the point of view of the artwork, it is not necessary to know this because they stand for the needless disintegration of lives that the violence has wrought.<br />
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As you see, this has been photographed in the hoop to show a little more of the work in progress.</div>
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This image zooms in on the two trees photographed. The camera has picked up on the edges of the silk-painted organza pieces and mulberry bark and has exaggerated the light falling on these. This will be addressed in part as I complete my stitching but will probably also need to be adjusted photographically.</div>
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I have also used many more 'burnt' colours on the trunks of the nearer tree and on another tree (not photographed) in the full piece which were closest to the exploded vehicle than appear in a colour version of the original photograph. This is because I want to contrast the fresh green of a July countryside in Co Down, where the incident took place, with the unnatural after effects of explosion.</div>
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Another of the strange shapes thrown up by the explosion. What once had a recognisable form and function now has become an alien object.</div>
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I have included a final close-up of the tree-trunk to show the form of the stitches. All of the work is being done by hand and this matters to me for several reasons, one of which is that the original incident happened through the hands of the bombers, hands used for destructive purposes. However, the hand can also heal and, medically, stitches are used to close wounds; so as a needle punctures cloth, threads then 'heal' the wounded fabric.</div>
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At the same time, as the work progresses, colours and rhythms of stitch are slowly transforming the raw material into the image of the incident. Both the event itself and a photograph of its aftermath happened in seconds but, paradoxically, this stitched image will need thousands of stitches and take months of work to complete. The artwork is also not contemporary with the original event which occurred some years ago. The hand of the stitcher, then, could be regarded as mediator and interpreter between the incident as it originally happened and as it is now re-presented in the present moment. To produce a stitch is both a physically active and intellectually meditative act and the image that results is not so much the portrait of a past moment but a scene imbued with the memories of several disparate events. The new conglomerate exists with its own life and perdurance in time.</div>
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That the artwork is beginning to have its own life and meaning was vividly made clear to me just the other day when a friend made a very interesting observation on the work. She said how my use of colour, the burnt browns and contrasting green foliage, made her think of camouflage on an army uniform. This had not been in my thoughts as I stitched but it is only too sadly appropriate to the occasion in that it was rogue elements in the armed forces who carried out both the bombing, killing themselves in the process, and the shooting that followed.</div>
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<br />Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-11109124044019817322018-05-08T03:32:00.001-07:002018-05-08T03:48:44.899-07:00Etching with 'A Belfast Peace'When I visited Belfast almost a year ago, I took a lot of photos of the city as it now is, as opposed to when I knew it in the 1970s and 1980s. In those decades, it was a very tense place to be because of the violence that plagued the city and Northern Ireland in general but I'm very glad to say that it is now a much changed place with so much happening socially, architecturally, in the arts and in tourism. The same is true of Derry/Londonderry which I have now visited for the first time. I was here to attend an exhibition opening in the Verbal Arts Centre and I'll be posting about this visit in my 'Thread of the Spirit' blog. In this post, I will include images and details of another exhibition 'Stitched Legacies of Conflict' on at present in the Roe Valley Arts and Cultural Centre in Limavady, a few miles from Derry, as I have one of my conflict pieces 'Continuum', in this exhibition.<br />
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The photographs I took of Belfast last year inspired me to make a piece within my 'Conflict' work which looks toward a peace which has begun and is ongoing, if still not perfect. Added to the pleasure of thinking about a peace that seemed impossible for so many years - the Troubles are generally spoken of as lasting 30 years - the medium for my new work is etching, something I carried out with such joy as an undergraduate and to which, thanks to the help of Andrew Baldwin in the School of Art, I have now been able to return!<br />
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View of presses in the Printing Department, School of Art, Aberystwyth University</div>
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The bench I work at in the Printing Department.</div>
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I started off with a copper plate - I had only worked on zinc before - and used the new ground for etching and aquatint called BIG (Baldwin's Ink Ground) that Andrew developed as a non-toxic method for etching and aquatint - when I worked in the medium years ago, health and safety weren't regarded in the same way that they are now! It was such a pleasure to be doing etching and I have fallen in love all over again with the plates, the prints, the method and process -<br />
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Photo of my etched copper plate on my bench.</div>
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Inking up the plate - the 'Titanic' workers with 'Rise' behind.</div>
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The image that you see on the plate has, as its main components, my interpretation of a bronze sculpture in East Belfast of three figures that represent the 'Titanic' workers of 100 years ago and, behind them, a sculpture in steel by the Falls Road known as 'Rise'.</div>
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The figures of the three workers, sculpted in bronze by artist Ross Wilson, stand on the Newtownards Road and, unveiled in 2012, they depict the 'yardmen' walking home, a tribute to the industrial legacy and folk history of the workforce of East Belfast. This was made as part of East Belfast Partnership's project Re-imaging the Newtownards Road and some of the most contentious murals in the area were removed and replaced with 'No More' and 'Ship of Dreams' community artwork.</div>
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Harland and Wolff's iconic cranes, Samson and Goliath, one of which I have pictured here, can be seen rising above houses in the background at some distance behind the bronze figures. I have not included the cranes in my etching.</div>
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This is a night-time photograph I took from the car, using my phone, of the sculpture 'Rise.<br />
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Built to represent hope and known locally as 'The Balls on the Falls', it is a structure in white and silver steel, almost 40 m tall and 30 m wide and I think it is particularly effective seen lit up, when its two geodesic spheres, supported on slender stanchions, seem like ethereal lace against the dark of the night sky. The large sculpture stands on the Broadway Roundabout at the junction of the Westlink and the M1 motorway, a main road into the city with access to the Falls Road via Broadway and it is visible from a considerable distance and can be seen by both sides of the community. Artist Wolfgang Buttress, who designed the work, wanted it to be simple, universal and the same when looked at from every angle.<br />
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The print showing the sculpture 'Rise' with the 'Titanic' figures.</div>
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<b>From plate to print</b></h3>
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For the very first trial pull, black without extender was used but it turned out to be much too dark, so extender and Prussian Blue were added. This use of the extender to thin the very dense ink and adding the blue to the black gave a much more subtle colouring to the image. </div>
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Using a single ink mix, Prussian Blue with Black and extender.</div>
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Andrew talked to me about the method called a 'double drop' which would involve inking the whole plate in Vermilion, using extender to define and give the desired character and effect in particular areas, then repeating the whole process using Prussian Blue. I thought that Vermilion could give a warmth to the image, so we tried this out on the plate. However, instead of the sepia tones I had been expecting from the mix of red and blue shades, the colour that resulted was very much more burgundy than sepia and I didn't think this tone suited the piece. Vermilion is also a very strong colour and, as well as the tendency toward burgundy rather than sepia, I felt the colouration Vermilion gave with the 'double drop' was much too strong, drowning out the blue shades almost entirely and robbing the piece of the subtler atmosphere the Prussian Blue had given it.</div>
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<span style="text-align: start;">Experimenting using Vermilion as a 'double drop'.</span></div>
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Inking up and printing to find the right colour balance and treatment of the inks.</div>
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The solution was to use a recipe of Prussian Blue, Black, a little Vermilion and touch of extender as the initial colour for the entire plate. The plate was inked up using this colour recipe, then extender was applied to appropriate areas where a softening or suffusing of tone was wanted. After this, Vermilion was applied only to sections where it was needed and again suffused using extender. The result was a satisfying blue/black with the vermilion adding hints of warmth to the lower sky and foreground of the image.</div>
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The finished print on Somerset paper. I gave it the title 'A Belfast Peace'.</div>
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I was thrilled when Andrew said he would like to include my print in his exhibition 'Breaking New Ground'! This is an exhibition of prints using the etching and aquatint ground known as BIG, developed by Andrew. The exhibition features work by artists from all over the world and it opened on Friday 7th October in the School of Art Gallery, Aberystwyth University and runs until Friday 18th November 2016.</div>
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I find this is a really exciting addition to my processes and I have now printed onto linen and am stitching the etching on paper - next blog will include images for this next stage in my work! </div>
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Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-75068496908808650652018-05-08T03:30:00.002-07:002018-05-08T03:30:56.521-07:00Poetry and Sick Children's HospitalIn January, I had a wonderful time recording volunteers reading my poems in the National Library. It was so interesting and moving to hear Colin, Mary, Paul and Mike reading my words, to hear their interpretations of what I have written and to see them moved by one poem particularly, 'Fragments', written out here beneath the photo of Ed and myself.<br />
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I had organised the day and poems but Ed came along to act as sound technician and his help here was invaluable. He has a great skill in working out the recording levels so that nothing peaks and each reader's voice comes across really well. Ed and I have cooperated before on the music elements of my installations and we work very well together.<br />
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These recordings have given me a lot of material to work from and Arthur took some photos to make a visual record of the day. The Drwm room's auditorium was an excellent venue for the recordings and I am very fortunate to have been able to hire it. The library staff, too, were all friendly, courteous and helpful and I'll be really happy to use it again if I need to do some more work like this.<br />
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ir6L8dUvjS0/VvPHLvrc_2I/AAAAAAAABCg/i4EryxnyQXU6eKtgevCne2FkuWroQZeJQ/s1600/Self%2Bwith%2BEd%2Bin%2Bthe%2BDrwm%2BAuditorium%2BJanuary%2B2016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Ir6L8dUvjS0/VvPHLvrc_2I/AAAAAAAABCg/i4EryxnyQXU6eKtgevCne2FkuWroQZeJQ/s320/Self%2Bwith%2BEd%2Bin%2Bthe%2BDrwm%2BAuditorium%2BJanuary%2B2016.jpg" width="259" /></a></div>
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Self with Ed in the Drwm Auditorium</div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri"; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Fragments</span></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">People morphing in and out of<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">smoke like clouds,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">hides mangled bodies<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">as nine-year-olds to die?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">at thirty-five,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>at sixty-eight<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">wandering</span></i><span style="font-family: "calibri";">,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>dazed,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">shirtless, shoeless<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">‘he was right out of it’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Massive</span></b><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> explosion just<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">removed her from this earth<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">we were screaming and <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">panicking</i>,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">screaming </span></i><span style="font-family: "calibri";">but deafened,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>bones <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">slammed</i> tight <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>couldn’t hear anything<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>no sound<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">as nine-year-olds to die?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">devastation, just<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>devastation<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">heroes were police and<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">ambulance crews<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">came to help the dead and<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">dying, not knowing if<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">another device would<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">remove <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">them</i> from this earth<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">as nine-year-olds to die?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">he was <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">running</i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>shouting!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">spotted the thing in the<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">back of the car,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">warn </span></i><span style="font-family: "calibri";">everyone<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bomb!<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">in his teens, <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>caught</span></i><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> full force<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">of the <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">blast<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">‘he was blew to pieces’<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">as nine-year-olds to die?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">looking for her children,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">she drew level with the car<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Bomb!<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">removed <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">her</i> from this earth<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">as nine-year-olds to die?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">‘no sound, not of bird<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>or anything’<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">he planted the bomb,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>went to the pub,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">ordered a whisky<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">she was lying there,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">her body full of <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">hacks,<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">skull of man or woman<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">embedded</span></i><span style="font-family: "calibri";"> in the railings<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">as nine-year-olds,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">nine-year-olds</i>,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>as<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>nine-year-olds to<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">die<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></i>?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Before this time in the National Library, I had been back over to N. Ireland to go to Belfast to visit one of my old places of work, the Royal Victoria Hospital. I had worked here in the late 1970s and beginning of the 80s, first of all as a student nurse in the Royal Belfast Hospital for Sick Children and later as an Art Therapist in the Geriatric Unit of the RVH.</div>
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When I returned home after graduating from Aberystwyth University with my initial degree, the Troubles were raging and jobs in the arts were few and far between. I had been led to believe that my university degree would still enable me to work professionally in an art studio but this was not the case. The etching I had done at university was 'as monks had done it' centuries before and I absolutely loved it but I knew nothing of the then modern techniques of photo litho offset, was told that my work was 'fine art' and I was an academic - this last said, on one occasion, as if it might be some kind of disease! - and so I struggled to know what to do. I thought of further study at Belfast Art College, of teaching there, of teaching at Queen's University but there were differing problems, including no posts available, with all of these things.<br />
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I followed a career for a couple of years which, in the end, I decided just didn't suit me and then I thought of that which had also attracted me for a long time, nursing. It seemed a compassionate path to take, especially in light of the bombs and terror that daily plagued Ulster; healing, in the face of destruction, seemed the right thing to do, so I started to do interviews to get into the profession. My own health had suffered over the years, so it was at the Royal that I found a sympathetic ear to my desire to nurse and they gave me a chance to train in the children's hospital, as they thought my physique wouldn't cope with adult nursing.<br />
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The position as student nurse, as I possessed a degree, had some problems but I very much enjoyed studying biology and other aspects of the nursing course and found being on the wards so interesting and rewarding. Eventually, however, my health did give out and I had to leave because I didn't have enough resistance to infection. However, I will never forget my time as a nurse, the people I met, staff and others, conversations I had, the job itself which always felt so much more than 'a job' and, above all, the children and their struggles, so very early in life, against implacable illness. I have expressed my feelings about this and written of situations I faced in my poetry and this is all part of my investigations into and interpretations of life in the Troubles.<br />
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It was a pleasure to meet Margaret Rooney and Colin Cairns (my maiden name, as it happens!) and I so appreciate all their help in getting me in to the hospital and seeing around. Margaret took myself, my sister, Joyce and Arthur round, gave us lunch and. afterwards, she even gave me a nurse's cloak identical to the one I had during my student nurse days! I loved my deep navy cloak - these cloaks were made of heavy, closely felted wool and were so warm to wear - I don't think nurses have them any more, which seems a shame - gone, along with caps and the old dresses and aprons which had been the uniform for many years.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mlZAOoPI8vc/VqiUtewbO_I/AAAAAAAAA_A/PuN5LLIxznE/s1600/IMG_5052.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-mlZAOoPI8vc/VqiUtewbO_I/AAAAAAAAA_A/PuN5LLIxznE/s320/IMG_5052.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The Sick Children's Hospital building - a new one is presently under construction.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zxRv1S2dCV0/VvvgFqGU6xI/AAAAAAAABCw/k2T8vlnZu0cXCsggdbh5HlaODYX8FcFKg/s1600/Figure%2Bof%2Bchild%2BRVH%2Bfor%2BSick%2BChildren.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-zxRv1S2dCV0/VvvgFqGU6xI/AAAAAAAABCw/k2T8vlnZu0cXCsggdbh5HlaODYX8FcFKg/s320/Figure%2Bof%2Bchild%2BRVH%2Bfor%2BSick%2BChildren.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Statue of small child in the hospital by the entrance hallway</div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oMOx2K4RsUc/Vvvg_3VgoNI/AAAAAAAABC4/ghbvGYgnjZAyh9PorzcJn6xO_FOxmNq2Q/s1600/Former%2BQuiet%2BRoom.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-oMOx2K4RsUc/Vvvg_3VgoNI/AAAAAAAABC4/ghbvGYgnjZAyh9PorzcJn6xO_FOxmNq2Q/s320/Former%2BQuiet%2BRoom.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Former Quiet Room</div>
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This room pictured is now a meeting room but, when I nursed in the hospital, was where the body was taken when a child had died. It was a part of the training to sit with a dead child for one hour, alone, as, if it happened when you were on night duty, quite possibly alone, you had to be able to cope with dealing with death. I sat with a nine year-old who had passed away with leukaemia - his body so still, he looked completely at peace.</div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-82kt1oEZ-D4/VvvmKvNYXyI/AAAAAAAABDQ/USY6zFn_C2sxHFYhNAnyfba0pDfiN4npw/s1600/Florence%2BBostock%2BPlaque%2BSick%2BChildren%2527s.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-82kt1oEZ-D4/VvvmKvNYXyI/AAAAAAAABDQ/USY6zFn_C2sxHFYhNAnyfba0pDfiN4npw/s320/Florence%2BBostock%2BPlaque%2BSick%2BChildren%2527s.jpg" width="260" /></a></div>
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Plaque for Florence Bostock</div>
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This plaque is on an inner wall in the Children's Hospital - I stayed in Bostock Nurses' Home during my nurse training period.</div>
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A funny little anecdote regarding the Nurses' Home is that an announcement went out one day asking nurses to stop sunbathing topless on the roof, as this was distracting the army - so that's why the helicopter was going round and round and round . . . .! (I didn't actually take part in this activity myself!)</div>
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One thing I did do was wear my hooded dressing-gown with the hood up one evening when I was crossing over to the kitchen to make coffee - someone at the other end of the lengthy corridor jumped up in alarm - I gave a wave to reassure them - at least, I could be a friendly ghost!!</div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ylP8vastmHk/Vvvp2mJaHrI/AAAAAAAABDc/BsjnhODsQLIcSMa87ilVdbE2PgwKDVUzQ/s1600/Stained%2Bglass%2Bwindow%2BSick%2BChildren%2527s%2BHospital.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="311" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-ylP8vastmHk/Vvvp2mJaHrI/AAAAAAAABDc/BsjnhODsQLIcSMa87ilVdbE2PgwKDVUzQ/s320/Stained%2Bglass%2Bwindow%2BSick%2BChildren%2527s%2BHospital.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Beautiful stained glass window in the hospital</div>
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Close-up of the Good Samaritan</div>
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Hospital entrance</div>
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Statue of Queen Victoria outside the hospital.</div>
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Looks a bit gloomy in the photos and we did have to dodge the rain but the very next day, the sun came out!</div>
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Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-8659534697966468172018-05-08T03:29:00.002-07:002018-05-08T03:29:29.890-07:00To choose a threadI have been working with a variety of black threads in the dark areas of my large piece and have written a report on how they have worked out in practise. I find this a useful exercise partly because, although you think you'll remember what has occurred while using a thread or fabric and how they have worked out overall, memory, in this instance, does not usually cooperate as fully as one thinks it should! The notes are useful, then, because I can refer back to them when I next need to make a decision on using or buying black thread.<br />
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Here, then, are my findings on the black threads I have been working with.<br />
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Little image showing the threads</div>
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1. Splendor Black 5801<br />
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A 12 ply strandable silk, this is a very nice dense black which works well using one strand - excellent for building up shapes/forms. Two strands are, as would be expected, denser and heavier but, as usual, I prefer to use the single strand - more subtle. This thread is also not too 'springy', so behaves well while working.<br />
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Au ver à Soie, Soie D'Alger Black 4106 (A)<br />
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2. A 7 stranded silk, each strand slightly thicker than the Splendor, so gives more coverage. Again, a really comfortable thread to use, behaves well in the needle and a good dense black - as with Splendor, I think it is worth getting more of this thread - its use is slightly different because the thread is slightly rougher in appearance and is a more textured silk than the Splendor.<br />
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3. Au ver à Soie, Soie de Paris Black 4106<br />
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A more 'springy' thread than the previous two, so needs more guiding through the needle which makes it a bit slower to work with; if it is not carefully guided, it tends to snag. Each strand is very fine, so I am using two to work with, though the single could be very useful for a really small or detailed area. Black is rich and dense, so good colour.<br />
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4. Mulberry Silks Black W 000<br />
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I'm using the fine thread and it is also available in a thicker version. A really nice thread to work with, as are all the Mulberry Silks - lies down easily, nor springy in the needle. Slight drawback to this one is that the black is not as dense as the above three - like a charcoal black as opposed to a lamp black - so not so useful for the present large piece I'm still working on - it gets gradually nearer to completion with every stitching session.<br />
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4 a) W 755<br />
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Another Mulberry Silk and this one is a charcoal and a good one - makes a very useful hue when shading black to grey, so well worth having.<br />
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5. Anchor Stranded Cotton Black 403<br />
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A nice dense black and, being cotton, no problem with springiness. Difference as opposed to silk is that the cotton does not have the lustre of silk but, this said, it is a good, useful thread.<br />
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6. Soie Crystal by Caron Black 56101<br />
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This 12-ply silk strands very readily and, like Splendor and the two Au ver à Soie threads, is a rich, dense black. It is comfortable to use, not really springy and, in thickness, each strand is slightly thicker than Splendour but not quite as thick as Soie d'Alger. Have used both one strand and two together very successfully - another good thread to have!<br />
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7. DMC Linen L 310<br />
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I inherited this thread from Marion Jones via her husband after Marion's death and it is just one of many that have been so useful to me. I very much enjoy her choice of colours and really appreciate this unexpected legacy - very many thanks to Vernon. It seems a shame that I never met Marion in this life, it would have been so good to talk about her work which I like very much. To go back to the thread, it is, as with the silks, a nice dense black and I like the depth and texture of the linen fibres, only problem being that the linen tends to break easily in the needle which is a bit of a shame but otherwise, a very good thread.<br />
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Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-13474170090283246072018-05-08T03:26:00.002-07:002018-05-08T03:26:19.962-07:00The Hue of SorrowExciting news is that I have an article published in Embroidery magazine in the present (Nov/Dec) Issue 66 of the magazine. The editor, Jo Hall, asked if I would write an article about the work I am currently doing for the PhD, so The Hue of Sorrow was born.<br />
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I really enjoyed writing the piece! It's great to see it in print and here is a preview:-<br />
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<u style="color: #222222; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px;">Courtesy Embroidery magazine <a href="http://embroiderersguild.com/embroidery" style="color: #1155cc;" target="_blank">embroiderersguild.com/<wbr></wbr>embroidery</a></u></div>
<br />Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-55878646550009700562018-05-08T03:23:00.003-07:002018-05-08T03:23:47.070-07:00Tools of the tradeI have taken some photos of my little stitching station that comes with me everywhere - almost all of the things that accompany me and that I use just about every day in life!<br />
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This is the tray that I set my small work tools on - scissors, needles etc. It is the top of a shoe box - shoe boxes are such extremely useful items! - and I covered it in a nice piece of fabric I had bought some time ago. It stays by my side and is transported to uni and anywhere else I go where I can stitch.</div>
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To itemise what the tray holds, these are, first of all, a leather thimble, a metal thimble from the Holy Land, some paper bobbins - very useful things, these - and a new needle threader which I hope is going to last considerably longer than the usual somewhat flimsy kind one finds on sale. I wear the leather thimble on the right hand and metal one on the left. I was very touched to receive this latter thimble as a gift from Angela, a friend in Rugby who had been on a trip to the Holy Land - it says 'Sea of Galilee' on it and has a basket and fish designs on it - it means a lot to me. I remember my paternal grandmother, who had worked as a dressmaker, saying that you should never be without a thimble. When I first did some sewing/stitching some years ago, I didn't find wearing a thimble at all comfortable and only used it occasionally when I really needed to. Now I do find thimbles indispensable. The leather one has a little metal tip inside and I really couldn't work without them.</div>
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These next items are, going in a clockwise direction, first of all a box with long glass-headed pins then a small screwdriver which is excellent for tightening hoops. This screwdriver came with my Bernina sewing machine and Bernina don't make the screwdriver any more, so this one is precious!</div>
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Next is my heart-shaped pin-cushion. This, too, is precious but a very different reason - Juls made it for me years ago at school and I have kept it by me ever since she gave it to me. She sewed a floral motif on the upper side with 'Mum' underneath. It's getting somewhat worn but I'll keep on using it until it positively falls apart - I probably will first! I store my glass-headed pins on it and preserve the little floral shape given to it by Juls' in the colours of the tops. These items made at school can be really great - Ed made an ice scraper for Arthur for the car and, as with my pin-cushion, it lives in the car and is used still!</div>
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On the right is a needle case that I made when I was starting out to embroider and finally a little mirror given to me by my mother a considerable time ago. It started out as a dressing-table mirror with matching brush and used to have a long handle. I'm not exactly sure, but it may have been when the handle was broken that I started using the mirror as a work tool. Anyhow, it fits nicely on my tray as it is and is so useful when I'm stitching - as when doing any kind of artwork, I always find it so helpful to look at the work in a mirror and if I'm not sure whether a dark or light thread is needed next or when choosing a shade, looking in the mirror always helps me make my decision.</div>
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These are the scissors I carry, the largest for cutting fabrics and the other two for both thread and material. The little gold ones came with the rather nice leather case. Both smaller pairs were chosen partly for their sharply pointed ends but these don't seem as good now as when they were purchased. I don't know whether I can sharpen them or will need to buy replacements. The other small tool is for unpicking work and, like the screwdriver, came with my Bernina. As with rubbing out, unpicking is not done often (an embroiderer I met once said she just never unpicks) but I have found that there are times when it becomes necessary and this tool is the best I've found for the job.</div>
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These are two of my cloth marking pencils which work very well and the little brush on the end of one has come in quite handy from time to time. The rubber is a specialist one for cloth and works surprisingly well. I always find it useful to have a ruler on hand, even one as small as this!</div>
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These are just a few personal items that I keep on my tray - on the left, a parcel decoration which comes from the last gift given to me by my mother before she died, then a 'cross in my pocket' from St Magnus Cathedral, Kirkwall, Orkney. This was given to me by a very dear friend, Margaret, now 93 years if age and who I can't get to see very often any more. She brought the cross back to me from a cruise she made with another friend to the Northern Isles and Scandinavia a few years ago when she was still able to make the trip. Beside this is a pouch for the two meditation beads, also pictured, that Arthur brought back to me from Indonesia.</div>
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A few of the tools grouped on the little 'tray within a tray'.</div>
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These are two photos of Arthur, Juls and Ed that are beside me at my work station in the living-room at home. I used to keep a favourite photo of the three propped at the back of my tray but it disappeared mysteriously after a trip to St Davids when we stayed in a lovely cottage and I haven't dared keep a photo on the tray ever since! Photos are, however, everywhere else, in the living-room, studio at home, studio at uni, bedroom . . . . . .</div>
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Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-56937313360535070182018-05-08T03:22:00.003-07:002018-05-08T03:22:33.879-07:00Holiday stitchingWe went to Brittany at the end of August - self with husband, Arthur, daughter Juliette (Juls) and son Edward (Ed) - and had a wonderful time. My health was, I am so glad say, decent for most of the time and we actually experienced summer, seeing the light and feeling the warmth of a benevolent September sun.<br />
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I always take needle and thread wherever I go, sometimes working on images inspired by wherever I am but this time I was so concerned at just how long my major piece is taking - still am!! - that I stitched mostly on this large piece. However, stitching outdoors in M and Mme Le Moelle's beautiful garden was such a change on my usual work zones!<br />
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<br />Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-80846436890427692872018-05-08T03:20:00.000-07:002018-05-08T03:20:37.892-07:00In the studioI was in my studio at the university just recently and pinned my major piece on the wall to see how it was coming on. This is so useful, partly because it helps me decide where I want to go next. I also find it so helpful to look at a piece in a mirror. If there are times when I'm not sure whether I need a dark or light thread for the next section, seeing the image in a mirror somehow tells me just what I should do.<br />
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It was a lovely sunny afternoon!</div>
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Another little piece made within the current project.</div>
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Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-42663177133786783922018-05-08T03:19:00.000-07:002018-05-08T03:19:37.208-07:00From the workJust a couple of images from the latest work on my pieces. As well as the main piece, I have now started another smaller piece based on a particular survivor's story.<br />
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This is a detail from the main piece which I feel is beginning to say what I want it to say.</div>
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A survivor's story of one of the bombings, children trapped in a burning building who managed to escape and live.<br />
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For some years after my time in Belfast, I would sometimes wake at night and have to go through my experiences, one after the other, until I could find rest to sleep again. Now, to do the work I am producing, I listen to others' stories again and again while I work on the sound track and do my stitch, words that make up a litany of survival and pain.<br />
<br />Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-68078305441902949492018-05-08T03:18:00.000-07:002018-05-08T03:18:17.724-07:00ExplosionThis post concerns my process of preparing silk fabric for stitching, colouring it with silk paints and the words, in the form of a poem, that came to me as a direct result of this working process.<br />
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To explain, I paint my fabrics with silk paints in my studio at home using a wet-on-wet technique and I almost always start off the drying process with a bit of blow drying. This method gives a little boost to the drying and it also affects how the colours and marks come out on the fabric. Marks occur differently according to how the fabric is handled, whether it is transferred without prior drying to the drying table (set on fine plastic sheeting, sometimes raised on sheets of crumpled kitchen roll) and whether it has been pinned and stretched before painting or simply laid down on the glass surface of my work table. Different marks also occur if salt has been scattered over the fabric while the paint is wet. If I want the particular marks salt gives, I use my own mix of fine and coarse grained salts but sometimes I feel these results give a more design-like surface rather than a painterly one, so I use this technique sparingly. I work quickly, setting out my colours for the session before I begin and changing rapidly throughout so that I get a lovely fusion of shades over the fabric, at the moment usually organza, chiffon or fine silk.<br />
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One of my recent painting sessions had as its purpose to create burnt or smouldering colours on the fabric and I was delighted to find a beautiful effect using a couple of colours I had used before along with a few new ones selected online. The following image shows me in my studio at home at my table on the day I discovered the lovely colours.<br />
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6uzog8i8vh4/VVtoMgvVBHI/AAAAAAAAAnw/PQEUqLeBQyg/s1600/IMG_4047.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6uzog8i8vh4/VVtoMgvVBHI/AAAAAAAAAnw/PQEUqLeBQyg/s320/IMG_4047.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I have painted the ponge silk and am blow-drying it. The fabric had been laid directly onto the glass surface of my work table, rather than being stretched, and I do not wet the fabric before painting but it becomes wet during the painting process.</div>
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(A little note of interest - I am wearing my favourite art-shirt, one that Arthur wore when he was on VSO in the Solomon Islands in 1970/71 - some things have a great longevity as well as sentimental attachment!)</div>
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It was during this drying process that I felt very excited by how the silk, in these burnt colours, looked as I passed the dryer across it - it seemed to have the effect of smouldering flame and, partly through the colour and material and partly because of the sound made by the flapping, shimmering fabric, I also thought of prayer flags blowing in the wind.</div>
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Below is a short video of blow-drying the rippling silk.</div>
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<span style="text-align: justify;">Another material that I frequently paint is mulberry bark. This can be bought in stretched fragments when it has the appearance of fine lace or in bundles that need to be soaked before being gently pulled to tease out the fibres. I find it very difficult to achieve the really fine lacy effect by pulling the fibres myself but both kinds of bark have their uses. The fibres also take up the silk paint very well.</span></div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fjhiGrnzvNE/VhQJtk230FI/AAAAAAAAA3s/Vpy8GEyHvI8/s1600/IMG_4778.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-fjhiGrnzvNE/VhQJtk230FI/AAAAAAAAA3s/Vpy8GEyHvI8/s320/IMG_4778.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The bark painted in a wash of colours.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3vpPs4ItmcM/Vh44Q1uxfPI/AAAAAAAAA4I/GdvQMkgMlVc/s1600/IMG_4781.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-3vpPs4ItmcM/Vh44Q1uxfPI/AAAAAAAAA4I/GdvQMkgMlVc/s320/IMG_4781.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The bark as it comes in its raw state.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NQIG4jLohhM/Vh448ofh_vI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/23tf4laQ0Eg/s1600/IMG_4783.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-NQIG4jLohhM/Vh448ofh_vI/AAAAAAAAA4Q/23tf4laQ0Eg/s320/IMG_4783.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9roMfLAWdj8/Vh45OdwxHOI/AAAAAAAAA4Y/7iSzhtRE2es/s1600/IMG_4784.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-9roMfLAWdj8/Vh45OdwxHOI/AAAAAAAAA4Y/7iSzhtRE2es/s320/IMG_4784.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The above two images show just how fine the fibres can be.</div>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vAnlAKEyE0w/Vh45oJ9AK9I/AAAAAAAAA4g/wKhtyqcNY1o/s1600/IMG_4779.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-vAnlAKEyE0w/Vh45oJ9AK9I/AAAAAAAAA4g/wKhtyqcNY1o/s320/IMG_4779.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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The bark fibres teased out to varying degrees and painted.</div>
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Now follows a poem I wrote inspired by this process.</div>
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<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Explosion<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;">Can words flow like smoke? </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #4a442a; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">Brown</span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;">to </span><span style="color: #c00000; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">red</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"> to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: #f79646; mso-themecolor: accent6;">orange</span></i>, hues in differing<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;">shades </span><span style="color: red; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">glow</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">,</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"> smouldering, on the<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">rip<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-pl-<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ing </span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;">silk</span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;">, speak aftermath of<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="color: #c00000; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;">fire</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;">, </span><span style="color: red; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><em>flame</em></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"> and explosion’s staining,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">sharp shards of mangled metal wrought<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;">in </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">taut</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"> <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">black</b> threads. Stitch connects<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">colour to colour and form to<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">form but joined only by the new<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">chaos</span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">bro</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>-<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ken<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>constructs.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">Explosions <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: red;">crackle</span></i> in my brain,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">acrid, choking invasion of <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">gelignite into lungs,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">nausea and exhaustion,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">rising <span style="mso-effects-shadow-align: bottomleft; mso-effects-shadow-alpha: 32.0%; mso-effects-shadow-angledirection: 15000000; mso-effects-shadow-anglekx: -1800000; mso-effects-shadow-angleky: 0; mso-effects-shadow-color: black; mso-effects-shadow-dpidistance: 15.75pt; mso-effects-shadow-dpiradius: 4.725pt; mso-effects-shadow-pctsx: 100.0%; mso-effects-shadow-pctsy: 30.0%;">smoke</span>,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">birds <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 32px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>fa</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"> – <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ll – <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>in</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">g</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;">,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>smashed bricks and glass,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">torn</span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"> <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>branches of trees, people<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="color: red; font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">bleeding</span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;">, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">crying<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></i></b><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></b><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">out</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;">,<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>sta - <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>gg -<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>er -<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>ing,<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">wan</span></i><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"> -<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>der<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">- <o:p></o:p></i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></i><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;">ing</span></i><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 32px;">c</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">o</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;">n</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> - </span></span><span style="font-size: 16pt; line-height: 32px;">fu</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> - </span>si</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;">o</span><span style="font-size: 14pt; line-height: 28px;">n</span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"> of rescue -<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;">scenes <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="color: #c00000; font-size: large; line-height: 36px;"><em>seared</em></span><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>forever<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: "calibri";">into the DNA of memory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span><br />
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Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3225691050638859907.post-18741515918229423432018-05-08T03:16:00.000-07:002018-05-08T03:16:37.998-07:00Haunting soundsI have been working for some time now on sounds of the Troubles in Belfast and it seems almost eerie to hear how someone else's description of the aftermath of an explosion echoes with my own. In one instance, a recording features the noise of a bomb with the blast and the breaking glass and a man who had witnessed the blast, which happened at a bus station, describes the moments after the explosion, 'It was so quiet, not a sound of a bird or anything' - my poem <em>After </em>starts with the line 'and no birds sing' - my own experience echoed in another's.<br />
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Another person who experienced the same bombing goes on to say how there was 'lots of smoke and fire from the building . . . people seemed to be going in and out, as if they were going in and out of clouds'. Again, I experienced several times over how people would disappear into the smoke of a blast and you didn't know until afterwards if they were alive or dead.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jv5_AHDxS9o/VVOb28kFULI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/W0xLtE5U5Ws/s1600/After%2Bdetail%2B1%2Bbright%2Blow%2Bres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-Jv5_AHDxS9o/VVOb28kFULI/AAAAAAAAAnQ/W0xLtE5U5Ws/s320/After%2Bdetail%2B1%2Bbright%2Blow%2Bres.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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A woman describes an explosion that she experienced when she was only a child, going to the sweet shop to buy sweeties. Of the moments after the blast, she says, 'I just remember this deadly silence, you know, like deafened, I felt really deafened and I couldn't hear, I really couldn't hear but I know that we were screaming and panicking . . . and I think we held onto each other, we just screamed at each other . . . as nine year olds, we thought we were going to die in the shop'.<br />
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I felt this sense of silence, especially after one explosion when I fully believed myself to be dead, when I didn't hear the blast, just felt the push before I blacked out. When I finally came round and did hear again, which didn't happen for a while, it was like bursting into a world of sound and technicolour all at once.<br />
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Now I have been working for some time on my large piece which is as yet untitled.<br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CRlCZX7Igjg/VVOdUl10CzI/AAAAAAAAAnY/BMIwuYR7Rj8/s1600/Car%2Bexpolsion%2Bcrop%2Blow%2Bres.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-CRlCZX7Igjg/VVOdUl10CzI/AAAAAAAAAnY/BMIwuYR7Rj8/s320/Car%2Bexpolsion%2Bcrop%2Blow%2Bres.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This is a detail from the piece which will take some time to finish, so this is just the beginning. Images from a black and white photograph have been blown up in size and inkjet printed onto A3 sheets of cotton fabric prepared for printing. All these cotton sheets have then been stitched onto a calico background and stitching has begun, as with my recent work, all by hand. With a colour scheme of burnt browns to indicate the area singed by the fire of an explosion, some silk-painted organza fabrics have been laid down. </div>
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This image is not of a particular car explosion that I had experienced but I am stitching my memories onto a detail which I extracted from a photograph of an incident of the time, in this case, what became known as the Miami Showband Massacre. A land rover which was involved in an incident which I was very close to, had held four occupants, police officers, two men and two women and it was reduced to a heap of mangled metal; they were taken to hospital and I do not know if they lived or died.</div>
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Eileen Harrissonhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14901733376703655959noreply@blogger.com0