스튜디오
studio tidbits
dreams and journeys
living sporadically on islands,
in forests,
gardening escapades
11. 22

The afternoon of a rainy day,
Dreams of the rain




Took a small trip to Melbourne.
Recieved news of artwork being sold at a few exhibitions I had participated in, and delighted to collect my artwork at the Chinese Museum as well.
Very flattered to receive some nice comments there and can’t wait to frame these soon!
10.22

Fine art giclee print on cotton rag, 1100mm x 200mm, 2022. Limited edition of 30.
Can be purchased @ The Chinese Museum.




Reads -
’ Buying a Fishing Rod for My Grandfather’, Gao Xingjian

In a dream, a momentary visit to a childhood place that becomes unfamiliar as I turn a corner.  Obscured by time, it has become a poignant memory that I am now lost in.


.….the legend of him setting out in a boat while drunk, trying to scoop up the moon from the water.

09.22

September’s harvest -
....and they’re out, ready for Mid-Autumn!  
Thinned out nasturtiums and propagated some squash to eventually make nasturtium leaf dumplings and spaghetti squash!





The skies have been rather noisy lately  -  the sound of wind, hollow, bouncing about like echoes in an empty tunnel.
It ‘s strange and very disorienting...

Memories of catching and releasing frogs in the Summer as tadpoles appear in our Lotus ponds.
Current muses -
Gao Xingjian: Painter of the Soul’ - Daniel Bergez




Giclée test prints - choosing paper in preparation for some upcoming exhibtions... Really digging the textured cotton rag, but also a huge fan of canvas!

Dusk falls yet bright pinks dot the border of the forest.
I feel a tinge of sadness as the first plum blossoms bloom.
I’m still waiting for my pottery wheel to arrive up the mountains, hopeful to spin vessels to contain the coming Spring.
I think I might be a bit late this year...
Further on, I enter the forest of towering metasequoias. I can see nothing at all. The darkness is so palpable that it is a wall and I’m sure if I take another step I’ll crash into it. Instinctively, I turn around. Behind, between the shadow of the trees, is the faint glow of the electric lights  — a haziness, like a tangled mass of consciousness, like elusive far-away memories.

2/2 pottery out of the kiln... wobbly!


The garden beckons at dawn, to rise and tend.
From the kitchen, the leaf celery (rooted from scraps) are ready to be planted into raised beds outside. The snow peas are sprouting and leftover chestnuts are slowly prepared as a sticky-sweet spread.
There is something wonderful about rising before the trembling sunlight filters through forested hills.

I enjoyed basking in the dawn-birdsong during my first tending to the gardens - a lovely replacement to earphones perpetually stuck in my ears due to hyperacusis Absent are the sounds from busy roads and their screeches, beeps and bangs (with the occasional angry curse).

I haven’t unpacked…, yet seeds and plants are scattered about. They are ready to be planted and propagated:

marigolds, beans, snow peas, radishes,
lettuce, spinach, scallions...

Coiling and throwing clay beside the wampi trees.
1/2 pottery out of the kiln



Gao Xingjian

07.22

Slowly making the move into the forest to paint quietly, garden freely and wait for the lotus in Spring.
신흥사

Raise the Red Lantern, 1991



In love with hand-made brushes in the studio. This broom brush is from Korea, I used it with a celadon glaze...

06.22

I had the pleasure of using both pottery stations today (I was the only one in the studio at the time) ︎

Coiled moon jar


A visit to a temple in Seoul