White continues

My musing on the colour white continues...

Sometimes Life Flows Gently

The last week or two, life has been good. It is hard to describe except life appears to be flowing gently. I call a potential customer and they say, "Sure, bring your concept over." I call the insurance company who has just sent their second notice and they say, "No problem. When can we expect payment." (I kid you not). A friend sends a photo of a peace lily, which I am hoping to make up into a collage for another friend's new home and right from the first moment the collage makes itself.

Then to top it off, I am bundling up to go outdoors after having spent a hectic day trying to get some office work done, and my mother-in-law (who lives next door) comes in and ask if it is ok if she makes dinner tonight. How marvelous is that!

Travelling through time

"Artist Jyll Bradley drew on the dying tradition of Cornish flower farming to create a series of evocative posters shown on rail platforms between Penzance and London – named after the now-defunct overnight trains carrying fresh flowers to market."

There is nothing bad and much good I can say about the British newspaper, The Guardian. It is one of my starting points for information no matter what topic of interest I am searching. It is also one of the main sources of gems. 

Watching and listening to Jyll Bradley reporting on the state of the Cornish flower farming industry was like discovering a treasure. Her words are poetic, the people she interviewed so appealing, their plight easily to identify with, and the visuals very moving. She has literally woven a bouquet of a journalistic mastery.  

Two young men

Witnessed on a train trip to Berlin this last weekend:

Two young men dressed in black hoodies share a two-person seat. They sit with their backs to each other. One is facing the window, while the other hangs his legs over the armrest into the aisle. They talk to each other over the clatter of the train and the blare of the music coming from their mp3 players. The conversation flows though they never once look over their shoulders at the other.

Makes you wonder

There has been so much said in the last years about remixing, piracy, copyright, creative commons...
These two videos certainly add to the conversation:


Everything is a Remix from Kirby Ferguson on Vimeo.

Kirby Ferguson, the creator of the videos, writes,

"Remixing is a folk art but the techniques involved — collecting material, combining it, transforming it — are the same ones used at any level of creation. You could even say that everything is a remix.
To support this series please visit this site."



There are still two more videos to the series. Can hardly wait.

Winter Wonderland

I've written before about a dear friend  wanting me to make her a collage which is dipped in white for her new home. Well, this collage is part of a series I am trying to make dedicated to the colour white. A fine photographer and blogger, kindly sent me a few photos she took of the most beautiful Swedish landscape.

As far as my reckoning goes about this collage: British photographer living in Sweden gives Canadian artist in Germany a magnificent photo to make collage for her South African friend living in southern Germany to place in her new home.

I realise this is another winter landscape, but spring has yet to come. Maybe I will fine some inspiration in white in spring as well. Though, I can't really imagine that happening. What do you think, is there anything in white that isn't snow or fog?

The Ultimate Art of Collage Making

Whether you understand French or not, you have to look at this video of Francoise Hoffman working in her studio making a garment. She creates a story with every piece she makes. It made me wonder whether hers is not the ultimate art of collage making. (via Elizabeth Perry's blog, creation, who posted it via art for housewives)

Curious Sighting

A rare sunny dawn morning in Lübeck, Germany

A distinguished elderly gentleman in a suit walks along the city street wearing house slippers and carrying a large coat rack. What was the prelude to this story?

Interconnectedness of Human Experience

Jeffery Wright reciting a Walt Whitman poem in front of the Walt Whitman Houses on Myrtle Avenue in Brooklyn. NYC. The reading is part of ”Works In Progress,” a TV and online series about storytellers around the world.

Extraordinarily Confusing

Making this collage took quite a while, but it was a delightful process of layering and cutting and changing textures. It was an effortless process. Something that doesn't happen too often.

An artist friend of mine, who also works as an interior designer for large public buildings has asked if I'd sell my collages to put in two new hospital projects. She says my collages have soul, which made my heart go all golden and my checks rosy. 

These last months of setting up my freelance business have been extraordinarily busy, but also invigorating. The strain has been noticeable on my brain: my memory for names and words, never good, is noticeably worse. I am doing my best now to set up a foolproof system for remembering people’s names. 

I had one head of department, who would write down the name and one piece of information about his employees in a little black book. Everyone laughed at this method because he would always refer to that specific piece of information no matter how often you met him. I was the Canadian being asked if I felt at home living in Germany. Another colleague, who liked to sail, was asked if he had bought a boat yet.

I’m looking for methods people use to remember names, or where the keys are… do you have any suggestions? 

Tom and Jerry

I had the pleasure of helping a friend out; babysitting for her six-year-old son, who was sick with flu and fever. The pleasure wasn't in the fact the poor mite was sick, but because we watched a whole series of Tom and Jerry cartoons together. I don't know when the last time it was that I watched them, perhaps even since I was a child.



I really enjoyed myself, but was struck by how brutal they are, as well as repetative. The storyline is the same every time: Tom squashes Jerry, Jerry squashes Tom back. I remember there being more, but there are just different settings to act out the same scenario. Which is probably why it was so much fun to watch when I was young.

Have you ever revisited a movie or television series out of your childhood, only to be surprised with a change in your reaction?

Collages to Date

I am finally doing the last preparations for an art exhibit at the beginning of March. I'll write you more details as the time draws near.



The above is a bit of a teaser...

Early Moring Surprise

Typically, Sunday mornings are a time when we sleep in. A dear and loyal friend shows up at 11 o'clock with freshly baked bread rolls and the Sunday paper. (Yes, we are very spoilt.) This means that somewhere around ten to eleven one family member has to be awake enough to make the coffee and set the table. The rest of breakfast preparations is done once our friend arrives.

This morning I decided to get up early and go for a walk before breakfast. There was fog blanketing the streets and I wrongly presumed I'd be the only person wandering around. There were signs of life everywhere: people walking their dogs, fathers pushing baby carriages, couples walking arm-in-arm, tourists getting their last look of the city before flying home. I completely forgot that I was also once a member of early Sunday society.

I think I will become a member again.

Dudley Dursley Double

Sighted this afternoon, a Dudley double at the table across from us at a local restaurant. The same pug nose, body shape, rounded cheeks, greedy eyes, and sloppy table manners... I was tempted to look and see if he had a pig's tale.

The question is, is whether the Dudleys of this world become ugly through by being spoilt and over indulged by their parents, or did they become greedy and mean on their own?

A Tired Mother's Revenge

Just heard a hilarious story of a student party gone wild. Berlin. Student co-op. Facebook invite. 200 people show up. The night is long. And loud. Some fellows take to peeing in the inner courtyard. Disgruntled neighbour revenge herself by bombarding the peeing guests with dirty diapers out out her baby's diaper bin.

Obviously, desperate behaviour from a sleep deprived mother. Who of us hasn't been there sometime in our lives?

Lone Slipper

Mystery of the day: I woke up this morning with cold feet and went to put on my slippers. The problems was, there was only one lone slipper there. It was really strange. Obviously, I took off my slippers at the same time. Why wasn't there two slippers there?

Mystery solved: the slipper got caught in my trousers and went through the wash and was spit out this evening in the dryer.

Suitcase: mixed message

Friend here (from Slovenia). Friend on her way from down south. Daughter in bed with a fever. Son far away but close in heart. Days flying by. To-Do list only getting longer. Soooo much to tell and yet, I fear I will forget so much. Still, you are also in my thoughts. This roller coaster ride will probably not stop before its over, but it will eventually reach gentler slopes. Promise.

The Colour White

I have a friend whose favourite colour is white. I've never known, or been conscious of knowing, anyone who favourite colour is white. Mint green, China blue, even antique rosa... but white. That is new. Now this dear friend is moving into a new home in the next days and I'd like to create a collage for her (she hinted she wanted one). It turns out not to be an easy task.

Even though white is more or less the presence of all colour when thinking about prisms of light. When creating collages though it has very little to do with white, but the absence of colour. The above collage is the first attempt at series of collages called, "The Colour White".

Of Gods and Men

There was a time when stories were told simply,
With heart and soul, and even laughter.
With actions restrained, facial gestures
Naked and vulnerable, yet understated.
Never forgeting the understatement.

That time might be of the past,
But, I witnessed it today sitting
Almost alone in a darkened cinema
Watching a masterful movie
Told so touchingly, that hours later
I write this while tears still stream
Down my face. Remarkable.

Olden Days in Saint Tropez

To the woman standing next to me at the bus stop today...

Going down south
Over the Christmas holidays
Spending all your waking hours
Baking in the hot sun,
So much so
That your resemble  the
Old Ladies in Saint Tropez
In the 70s
With their bbq-ed charcoal ash skin
That cracked like elephant hide...
Is just plain crazy.

I swear, her skin was the colour that I had not seen in over 30 years: since the correlation between sun and skin cancer became known.