pondering my next venture

I have taken some time to reflect, to consider several options, and to ponder what my next project will be. Next year will be my last Legato Exhibition for Commemoration and Peace in Cassino, Italy. It is the 80th anniversary next year. In 2019 I remember thinking "If this is my last Legato, it has ended on a very good note." And then 2020 happened. There has not been another edition since. But next year I think I will curate one last exhibition for those who suffered in that terrible battle. Then the remaining works will find their way into local museums, to be shared in years to come. I have stored and exhibited some of these works for close on 14 years, and I am calling time. 

But without Legato, or the desperate urge to protect New Zealand from the unfolding pandemic, where do I put my passion and energy now? 

I have always left global warming and conservation issues to those who know more about them than I do. I am a greenie in my life, but not a very vocal one. At times I have considered doing a PhD in arts therapy as an alternative form of discipline in schools, but doubt that post covid I have the energy for such intensive research. 

Sometimes I am tempted to finish the novel I started writing - 30,000 words languish waiting the final push. Eleven or twelve children's books are in the pipeline, side-lined for now. A calendar has been painted, but not published. At other times I simply want to paint uplifting things, to draw attention to the beauty that surrounds us, if only we would take the time to look. 

I have been reading some of Helen Clark's speeches as she travels the world inspiring us to do more, urging the world to embrace equality, and to work for the common good. I once read a book about the work that women do for peace, and was so inspired by it that the late Richard Wassell gave me a copy to keep. I also value the time I spent in London, studying with the late Douglas Lyne. He taught me to think big in all that I do. We can make a difference, each and every one of us, if only we just begin. 

In 2011 I stood in Westminster Abbey, London, holding a wreath to place on the Tomb of the Unknown Warrior. While standing there I looked back at my childhood, barefoot and carefree, running about the fields, climbing out my window at night to look better at the moon. I still pinch myself. How did a girl from a tiny two-teacher school in the back-blocks, growing up north of Wairoa, who loved teaching calves to drink, and picking mushrooms, and even enjoyed pulling ragwort for pocket money, end up there? 

I still don't know how those dots were joined. I do know though that there is another chapter to be written. No, not a chapter of the novel, I may never finish that. It's time to write a new chapter in my life. And there is nothing more exciting to a writer or an artist than a brand new, fresh white page. 

Welcome, 2023

Oh creativity, you are such a fickle mistress! 

In this New Year period I am sitting at my studio desk (where I paint in acrylic and watercolour) having just visited the space where I paint in oils, and I am torn, torn, torn. Which one am I to follow? Or can I make room for all three? 

Around me are some works from my Italian painting time. Some are straight out art therapy, and they remind me of how strong I can be, and how much I have overcome. Some, like the huge works that were in the museum in Cassino, Italy, but are now in storage here, give me a real sense of having achieved something. Tucked away with them are the works confronting domestic violence, painted especially for an event in Cassino but shared more widely. They are also in oils, painted away from my living space because the subject is a tough one. I needed to be able to walk away from them at the end of each working day. They too are powerful works I am quite proud of. 

In front of me, in contrast to the strong oils, is the watercolour I painted for the recent exhibition, representing those left behind when women are killed. The subject is tragic, so I painted it without a model. I keep it where I can see it, because it felt as though the painting flowed through me, rather than was painted by me, and I marvel at how quickly I achieved what I wanted with that work, and how I can look at it as a painterly object of beauty rather than as something sad. 

Up on the wall behind me are two cheerful sunflowers, again painted for an event in Cassino last year. It was the opening of a garden dedicated to women, with the red bench seat, and I chose fast drying acrylic to paint sunflowers for the women of Ukraine. It was painted at very short notice after arriving back in Italy, and the fast brushwork gives the work an energy that is not my usual hand. 

 

Rolled up on the storage bench seat beside me is the recent major acrylic work, hiding from view. The acrylics are packed away, that project is started, I am happy with the big exploratory work I did (which has already gone to a private collection). There are many more in that series, but when can I paint them, and what size will they be?

I am surrounded by my watercolours. There are bees and lizards and a frog peering at me. I have two more to complete in the series. That will happen soon. 

Yes, as I look at the year ahead, I am struggling to fit everything in. My nomadic lifestyle is exciting, colourful, but also uses up a little of my painting time as I travel.

The oil paints will be packed away for a while. Much as I love them, I can't see me getting back to them in the next year. Acrylics are better for painting on the move. Unstretched canvas is easier to transport, not so easy to paint on unless you are well set up. Watercolours are easiest to work with but not always suited to my subjects. They definitely go in the suitcase though!

And just when I think I have my projects narrowed down and nearly sorted, right up to the next major exhibition in Cassino, Italy, in May 2024, a whole new series pops up in glorious, fun colour, simply begging to be squeezed in somewhere!

My task for today was to slot each project into a time frame and location, and that's where I come unstuck. It's a little like doing a jigsaw puzzle, with new pieces being given to you just when you thought you had the border all sorted.

 

I'm not complaining, I'm a happy artist (my one-time email address). I'm just more than a little bit excited about the year ahead! 

Well this is a surprise!

 I'll bet, like me, you thought this blog had been consigned to the archives. I certainly didn't expect to feel the urge to write on it again. But here goes... 

I was looking for a post to share with a dog-loving friend, and decided to read a few more myself. I'm enjoying the trips down memory lane. I found this post about my turangawaewae particularly interesting in these present moments/times/days. 

Christmas is coming. With no children around me, and consumerism not being my thing, I haven't really thought about it too much. Random gifts have been distributed by mail order, and as I prefer not to have things delivered to me - far too much effort trying to retrieve them from the post office - I am not expecting any. I am joining friends to eat too much food, but our celebrations will be moderate - at least, I am hoping so! 

I sometimes wonder why, in these secular times, we continue with these traditions that cause so much stress within families. The original Christmas was simple, a birth in a manger, with cattle around. It bears little resemblance to our commercial chaos today. Have I become the Grinch? If I have, I don't mind too much. After all, the Grinch did learn that Christmas was more than presents and noise. I don't think it is Christmas that upsets me, but all the stress that can go with it. The stress not so much for me, but for those who believe that they must stretch themselves beyond their means to create a "Christmas" for others. 

On Wednesday I bought a Christmas gift. Of sorts. At the weekly market a stall holder tried to persuade me to buy some of the extra Christmas fare she had on her stall. Her usual domestic wares were not selling; these are tough times. The market was empty, noone was buying. I didn't need the things that were for sale. My meander through the market was purely to collect a parcel of a product I was trialling with my paintings (delivered to a shop, it's better that way), and for company on an otherwise quiet and bleak day. I turned her down. I moved away about four paces, then returned. I had changed my mind. I bought two things. Because Christmas is really about giving, after all. 

I have been back in New Zealand, living behind closed borders for two years while recovering from Long Covid, re-establishing myself in the community I left, wondering about where I really belong. My physical health says Italy is better for me. My mountainside does me the world of good. But at Christmas time thoughts of grandchildren pull me in different directions. I live in two completely different worlds, and that is something that I simply need to accept. It's not that I "want my cake and eat it too" but the reality is that there is something in each place that fills some need within me.

Here in Italy I am free to paint, I am not being squashed into a box of expectations because, with my faltering Italian language and independent ways, I will never truly fit in. In New Zealand I am closer to family, and things are so much easier, but I also feel an unspoken pressure to conform to the expectations of others, whether those expectations are good for me or not. I have never seen myself as being a non-conformist, and a lifetime as a teacher would suggest that I am pretty good at conforming. So perhaps I was a well-trained conforming mis-fit all along. I can wear that. And so I will continue to live with the best and the worst of both worlds, for as long as I am able. And this year, that means Christmas on my own, which is quite OK too. 

Christmas. What will it look like, this year? For me, this strange 2022, Christmas is a rather funny looking reindeer who invited himself home with me. I think I'll keep him. He's quiet company while I paint, and I haven't started talking to him - yet! 

May your December be stress free, healthy and filled with family and friends - or peaceful and serene, with enough to eat, and good music to keep you company. 

Powerful work by Robyn Hughes

Some years ago I was privileged to meet Robyn Hughes, and to later visit her in her home to view her then "works in progress" based on the research she was doing into the battles for Cassino.

The inaugural exhibition of these works in 2014, described by the gallery as "unmissable", was held in Whakatane, New Zealand. The works are on a very large scale, which no small screen can do justice to, but Robyn has kindly allowed me to publish the work here on the Legato blog. Please turn your sound on to hear the words of the soldiers as they went into Cassino.

Link: Into Cassino by Robyn Hughes

Updating and looking forward to 2019

Preparations are underway for Legato 2019.

It seems a long time since I posted here. A new hard drive in my computer and forgotten passwords, missing photographs that didn't arrive despite being sent three times, and a lot of travel to visit my veteran father in New Zealand. No one excuse big enough, but that was the reality of my life, so this blog, along with my children's book blog, was left to wither in cyberspace.

But we are back! It's the 75th anniversary of the battles for Cassino, and Legato (which has been visiting smaller towns like Colfelice and Roccasecca since the 70th anniversary - see the Facebook page for the Roccasecca event) will return to Cassino this year to a new venue a short walk from the railway station. More posts will follow on the Legato blog. 

onwards and upwards

I have been perusing my Legato blog as I make preparations for the 2019 Legato exhibition to commemorate the 75th anniversary of the battles for Cassino. On an impulse I returned to this blog, and decided to update it briefly. 

At the time that I "abandoned" my blog I was being troubled by emails from stalkers. I simply jumped ship and let the stalkers (all two of them) think what they liked. But to those of you who might have been confused, I do apologise. 

I have spent quite a bit of time renovating my apartment and planning ahead for future exhibitions. Life continues to be great, and new family members are the biggest gift of all. 

Today I am grateful for good health and true friends. 

eight years

Today marks the beginning of my ninth year in Italy. Eight years ago, on the 24th of April, I arrived here to make a complete change in my life.  Today on the Italian calendar it is now 25th April.

When I arrived here eight years ago, on a one year visa, I had no idea how long I would stay. Three months, perhaps, and then I would have an annual painting holiday here? Instead, my 'bolt hole' apartment became my home.

A year after my arrival I wrote this post. I am less sure of where home is now, or perhaps I am more sure that I have at least two homes.

The commemorations for 100 years of ANZAC hard on the heels of the 70th anniversary commemorations here last year have left me in a more fragile state. This week my heart and head have both been in New Zealand, and it has been harder keeping my daily life here moving smoothly.

Three days ago my permission to live here expired. My application to stay another two years is in. I play the waiting game. Will this remain my home, or will I become that visitor on a painting holiday every year? Rules are being tightened all through the systems here. I can't take anything for granted any more.

If home is where the heart is, then I am lucky to have many homes.

Today, the festival for the liberation of Italy (WWII) I take stock, paint some ANZAC Day poppies (see note below), and reflect on my fragmented life. I am grateful for all that I have learned over the past eight years. It hasn't been easy, but it has been a good life.

Happy anniversary to me.

Today I am grateful for options and choices.

Poppies: I am exhibiting here in June, and chose to focus on the poppy in all its meanings. I began with the joy and brightness of it, lifting myself away from the commemorative meanings. That series is the strong ones in the previous post. I have worked my way back to the poppy for commemoration. The timing is perfect, but it doesn't make the work any easier. I will be focusing on the art making, more than the significance, as I paint today. ANZAC Day has been emotional enough for me already. (Painting above is a detail from a poppy I painted last year).

poppy time again

but this time I am painting them with joy.

 I have tried two different types of texture medium (my credit card went on a spree in Melbourne recently) and will certainly be using the one below again. The one above really should have been applied with a palette knife, not a chopped up credit card...

Each is a series of five paintings, plus there are two more horizontal ones in the strong vibrant style. As these are for an exhibition in June I am not putting the full works out at the moment, just a glimpse to keep you up to date with what is happening in the studio.

Now to work on the watercolour versions. 

Today I am grateful for time to create. 

this year it was too sad

I have avoided all things Easter up until today. There is so much sorrow in the world, with man-made tragedies, that I found it too difficult to watch another that I find too real, too sad, as presented in the villages and towns here. Instead I will link you to a performance I watched a few years ago.

It is times like this that I am really a misfit culturally. I have a much more optimistic view of life and would prefer make more of the empty cross and the resurrection rather than the suffering of Christ. I guess it is my protestant upbringing.

It was very good to see that the Pope has continued his "tradition" of going into a Rome jail and washing the feet of prisoners. Now that is something that gives me hope. (Link chosen randomly - I don't see why one prisoner was singled out for description in this article).

Here is the Passion of Christ as I saw it in 2011. It left me without words.

Today I am dining (Easter Sunday) with new friends. I am looking forward to it. Tomorrow I will take some baking to old friends. It is time I caught up with them again.

Today I am grateful for friendship.

group exhibition ends today

I have three poppy paintings in this show, photo later. They are shiny and hard to photograph. I was aiming for a more contemporary look, but as you can see I am surrounded by tradition :)

Today I am grateful for inclusion. 

not cricket

It's not cricket I know, but I'm just linking you to my other blog today.

Work calls... (and so did the cricket but it's just too distracting!)

But Spring is finally coming, and if only my computer would accept my camera card I would post you some photos. Need to find the connecting cords...

Here is my recent post, on my Little Goat Books blog.

Today I am grateful for blue skies.

there's always an up side

Paintings (gesso base) drying by the fire. If you can't have sunshine, then dry firewood is the next best option.

 I love the smell of an open fire. It takes me back to my childhood, where I learnt to light fires in our huge open fire. This one is not nearly as wonderful a fireplace, and the chimney is impossible to clean, but a good roaring blaze knocks down a bit of soot.

All that is missing is the pot of soup, fresh local bread, and some music. I can remedy at least two of those. 

Today I am grateful for two little dogs (who seem to have forgiven me for being away for so long). 

to eBook or not?

Today's post is copied over from my "other" blog, Little Goat Books. A little longer than usual, back into my favourite mode of shameless pontificating, one might say! 

I have been asked by potential buyers if my books are available for Kindle, and others have suggested that this would be a good idea. Yes, when children are travelling, perhaps this would be useful. Yes, for getting more books sold, it is probably a good idea. Would I? Should I?

For now, at least, the answer is a firm (yet gentle) no. Why do I choose to miss out on those sales and that revenue when I am a fledgling business? The answer is easy; I love books.

When I was a child, the “success” of a Christmas or birthday was always the number of books I was given. But it’s more than that. I love the idea of children snuggled into a parent, an aunt or uncle, a babysitter, an older sibling, pointing to the page, running their fingers over the words, sharing. Sharing, sharing. I also love paper, paper of any kind.

I am totally for eBooks, but I am not writing for this format yet. To me a good eBook is an interactive adventure, a little like a 21st century “pick-a-path” book.  I am not ready to learn all I would need to know to present a book to its best in an interactive way.

I strongly believe that picture eBooks should be designed for the pages to be read consecutively. Mine are still designed to a “facing page” format. My illustrations, particularly as I work on the next series, need that page turn, that suspense, the adult deciding just when to reveal the surprise over the page. I like that.

Jon Skuse puts it particularly well. Jon Skuse worked in the computer games industry then did a Master of Arts in children’s book illustration to develop his skills. He is now a freelancer helping publishers move into world of eBooks. He says:

“There are two aspects to this – the business side and the creative side. The eBook is cheap to make once the technology is in place and it is cheap to buy. And you are not limited to a certain number of pages in the way a print-based book is. It doesn’t have to be linear in its construction either. The creator can make different ‘branches’ or routes; for example, the reader can tap on a door to take one route or tap on another to follow a different narrative.” (Cited in Children’s Picturebooks The art of visual storytelling, Martin Salisbury and Morag Styles, 2012 ,Laurence King Publishing Ltd London, pg 184).

He continues on to say:

“The eBook isn’t about winning or losing. It’s about an ‘exploration’, an experience, rather like a pop-up book. What many publishers are doing wrong at the moment is just copying printed picture books on to this format, which does both media a disservice. It’s just like looking at a PDF. Children will simply flick through. A printed picturebook is a particular kind of physical experience that can be savoured and revisited. The eBook needs to exploit its own particular characteristics and strengths to evolve as similarly special but distinct experience.”

This month one of the keynote presentations at the world-wide Children’s Book Fair in Bologna, Italy, is the development of eBooks in the digital age. Eric Carle’s “The Very Hungry Caterpillar” has at least two re-makes into interactive apps, and these will be explored in-depth. I think the presentation description of a book “re-engineered” is very apt:

Case Study: Two apps; one caterpillar — How StoryToys successfully re-engineered a beloved children’s publishing icon, with interactivity in mind.
Emmet O’Neil of StoryToys. Winner of the 2015 BolognaRagazzi Digital Award. Emmet will provide a case study into the details of making the award winning My Very Hungry Caterpillar. (Excerpt taken from the programme update emailed to me).

This is a glimpse of the future for children’s picture eBooks. I am impressed, I think it is exciting, but I am not in a hurry to write for this model.  For now I will leave that to the younger writers and the computer enthusiasts.

I write for junior teachers to read to classes. I write for grandparents who grew up with books and want to share their love of the printed page with their digital age grandchildren. I write for children who want to touch the page, to revisit images, to add their own imagined world into the white spaces I leave, and I write to keep shared reading alive.

It’s even more simple than that too. I don’t love screens. I love books.

Today I am grateful for books with paper, pictures, covers and spines. 

and here they are!

Three books released today. You can find them on my Print-on-demand page here.

Now to move on to the next ones...

Today I am grateful for a sense of achievement. 

today and saying "no"

Today I set out to achieve two things.

1. Answer emails
2. Write my 2014 end of year letter. 

Instead I have

1. paid my phone bill, 
2. tried yet again to understand my W-8BEN (relax, I hadn't heard of them either), 
3. signed and addressed my W-8BEN ready to post at last, 
4. updated my passport number on my flight booking, 
5. taken part in a tasting panel,
6. caught up with a friend
7. swept the floor, 
8. emptied the dishwasher,
9. cooked lunch,
10. loaded the dishwasher, 
11. surfed the mixed blessing known as FB
12. and talked to the neighbours. 

Now I am sure it is time for a Nonna nap. Happy Sunday, everyone.

If you would like to read something rather more thought-provoking than the above, here is something I enjoyed reading via Facebook today: all about saying No.  Or this, about not wasting your youth (or second youth?)

Today I am grateful for young friends. 

happiness is a new book

The first proof copy arrived today. I had a few alignment changes to make, and I tweaked the cover a little. But overall I was thrilled with the quality of the book. The colours are great, the look is professional (as it should be) and I liked my illustrations more in the book form than in the sketching and painting stages. I think a little distance from them has helped.

I suppose it is inevitable that some little errors will slip through, but I think I have done as well as I can proof reading this.

Recently I was disappointed to find a typing error in the chapter heading of a book from a publisher I hold in high regard. Perhaps it was a lesson to me. My biggest problem is not "letting go" and moving on to the next book. I can always see one more thing that I think I can improve.

I tested my new book in a bookshelf of assorted children's books today and was proud of the way it held its own there. I then came home and found several things to improve on.

It's late. Sleep calls. The order for more copies has been sent. Enough is enough, and if there are imperfections that have escaped me this time then my grandchildren will have flawed versions. I don't think that will be the case though. She said. Weakly.

Rolls off couch and staggers upstairs.

Today I am grateful for efficiency. 

coming soon to a link near you

One of the reasons I have been invisible - or should I say three of the reasons?

When Mum Fell Asleep in the Bath, Michelle and the Bumblebee, and The Lost Happy

When Mum Fell Asleep in the Bath is, of course, a mixture of truth and fiction. I wrote it for my children over thirty years ago, and it seemed timely to publish it in a form that my grandchildren might enjoy. 

Michelle and the Bumblebee is a true story with a conservation theme. It began its life as a comment on a Facebook page, where an avid gardener described her adventure. Someone else said "that would make a great children's story" - so of course I quickly said "I'll write it". I did. And then I illustrated it in watercolour. 

The Lost Happy was one of those elusive "a ha!" moments that grabbed my attention and demanded to be written, pushing its way in ahead of my main project which still waits patiently for me. 

I am waiting for the proof copies to arrive, and then will make these books available online. Little Goat Books was, fortuitously and without knowledge of the Chinese calendar, launched in the Year of the Goat. It feels right. 

Today I am grateful for three little emails that announce "book published". 

confession time and an update

Confession time:

1. I changed computers and found myself locked out of my blog
2. I I really didn't mind not blogging for a while.
3. I don't feel the slightest bit guilty...

because

I have been working incredibly hard and have completed the illustrations for three of my books for children, and have written another book which is very close to my heart and will be illustrated lovingly in watercolour with a release date later this year.

So, watch this space for direction to my new children's literature blogs (not this month though!)


Today I am grateful for new found confidence.



What you have missed:


The trial "working to a deadline" illustrations. The story is a true story retold by moi, and illustrated in watercolour.

A few of the  illustrations for a children's book I wrote over 30 years ago (photographed partially completed). The story has been expanded from the original and there are 27 new illustrations ready for the book. I have a few more kittens to paint for the text-only pages, and some details to add now that I have seen which pictures my young readers prefer. The story is written largely in rhyming couplets for the early reader.

 And one from the third picture book to be completed (colour illustrated and black and white workbook versions will be available):

Book number four will remain a secret until the illustrations are well underway. 

There are another nine books in the pipeline after that one. 

Keats, I think of your wonderful line regularly! "Until my pen has gleaned my teeming brain..." 

Today I am also grateful for practical tips from a professional illustrator. 

ooops again!

Where did the last couple of weeks go?

I have been reading about blogging instead of blogging, planning my projects instead of actioning them, and generally taking a bit of time out. My wrist is now almost recovered so I guess I should put it to action again :)

Here is an afternoon photo (no, the valley doesn't look like that today, but I am flicking through my recently downloaded photos - I seem to be taking fewer and fewer photographs these days - and this one appealed).

I still say that the shadows are on the wrong side of the trees.

Today I am grateful for news of travellers safely returned to their homes.

70 years of hope

I wanted to record this day on my blog mainly for myself. I "should" (I don't use that word, remember?) be writing a post for the Monte Cassino Foundation for Remembrance and Reconciliation, or for Legato, but that requires a little more time and thought than I can give at the end of the day.

Today we remembered the civilian victims of the battle of Cassino and the wider region. The actual front line was here for five months, but the war was in this zone, with bombings and casualties, for 9 months. And after that came three years of malaria. So many of my friends were children then. They have welcomed me into their homes and hearts as the daughter of an Allied soldier.

After the event this morning there was a march through town to the memorial for the civilians. I walked alongside, in support but not in the column. It wouldn't have felt quite right to join in, but it was right to be there. Instead of standing in the hot sun at the ceremony at the monument I returned to my little town and visited one of the unsung "vittime civili di guerra". With no visible scars, you would never guess what this lovely lady endured during the war. Seven and a half at the time, she has vivid images still of things no child should ever have to see or remember. Tomorrow I will visit another who survived in a cave by eating grass, terrified that the baby in the family might cry and alert the soldiers to their presence. These victims need to be heard, and a visit, a cup of coffee, a listening ear and a few hours of my time is not a lot to give but is an important part of my work here.

Remembering opens wounds, but also allows healing. The speakers from Cassino became very emotional and lost for words as they held the microphone and told what they had experienced.

Equally important today was the focus on youth, and their future. I really hope that the students present could relate the images they watched today to their grandparents and great grandparents. When I watch them in the audience I wonder if they really appreciate what happened only 70 years ago in what is now a bustling, busy, and on a day like today in glorious sunshine, very peaceful city. Certainly the older folk in the audience were remembering, and messages from those unable to attend couldn't be delivered without the readers stopping to recover from the emotions they felt.

I have had another "hat" popped gently on my head, that of delegate from Cassino to NZ to form links between NZ schools and Cassino (and other schools in other countries). This is an initiative (largely online) to bring better understanding of peace so that we can, as speakers urged today, eliminate the word war from our vocabulary. Peace is not the absence of war, it is a different state completely. "Educating for a culture of peace" is one of my much used phrases.

This new initiative is, in loose translation from the Italian title, the Anne Frank International Youth Centre (Cassino). I am very pleased to be included in this group - appointed (in true Italian style without invitation or consultation!) because of my work with the MCFRR and Legato.

Thinking caps on, friends out there in education, I will be calling on you for help with this project.

Now to take a break, and get back some energy for tomorrow's writing and visits.

Today I am grateful for passionate peace workers.