Griottes: THIS site is MURDER

I can’t remember the last time I saw anything so effing beautiful. The photographs on the site Griottes are too wonderful to be real…it’s like they have stolen deep into the heart-world of our most longed-for images, our utmost joys, and dragged these things out into the living world.

I don’t know what causes the delicious pain more…the photographs (color, styling, composition) or the food that’s in them.

Nobody should be allowed to do such beautiful and delightful things for a living…it makes the rest of the people in the world feel like they’re working as snorkel divers in the Poop Pits.

*just kidding* I love the site. (but I hate them…no, I love them…I’m confused about it all…)

the Penang shophouse

restored Penang shophouses

I snapped these pigeons  on the pavement directly beneath the open windows of the cinnamon colored shophouse in the photo above them…somebody’s pets, no doubt, (and it looks as though PC and I only just managed to avoid being pelted by stale roti falling from the sky, ourselves.)

I would love to be able to buy, do up, and live in an old Georgetown shophouse…there’s something so quaint about their narrow but deep rooms, the inner courtyards open to the sky, wooden stairs climbing steeply up to the second or third levels. But even if I could find one for sale (owners are not parting with them easily, now that Georgetown is one the World Heritage list) it would probably cost more than I’d manage to save in a lifetime.

A shophouse is a vernacular architectural buildingtype that is commonly seen in areas such as urbanSoutheast Asia. This hybrid building form characterises the historical centres of most towns and cities in the region. —Wikipedia.org

George Town Shophouses by Daniel Berthold

photo by Daniel Berthold

derelict row of shophouses in the heart of town

Georgetown

I subscribe to one enviable blogging couple, Robyn Eckhardt and David Hagerman, that has taken the leap into restoring an old shophouse…for their love of Georgetown and all things Pinang. How jealous I am that they get to call this year-round carnival town of flavours, colors and cultures Home! And that they eat, write, travel, stroll around Penang, and take photographs for a living! Sounds damn near perfect, don’t you think?

Growing up with the right values…

A dancing fox spirit in form of a woman...

Fox Spirit

Color in a painting has tremendous emotional impact…I love using colors, so much that often all I can see is the dazzling juxtaposition of color—wanting to use them all…wanting that vermillion to sit and glow beside a deep bluish green, enjoying the way a reddish gold pulsates next to a stormy Payne’s gray—and forget to take care of my values.

Values are the spectrum of light to dark in a painting. It is the use of different values that gives an object in a painting its form, its depth, its solidity…not colors. To see this at work, open a photograph in a photo editing program, and turn the color saturation up to 100%. The result is painful to the eyes. With every color saturated and glowing brilliantly, the solidity and form of the painting recedes.

It’s important to remember that every tube of paint has a value…dark red and dark green may be on opposite ends of the color spectrum, but in terms of value they are both on the very dark end of the value scale. Too many colors of the same value will result in a heavy, uniform, rather lifeless and shapeless painting…and often, because the colors themselves are so different from one another, you won’t be able to see or understand why your painting seems so flat, so “washed out” or “dark” or “leaden”. Our eyes often become so overwhelmed by the interplay of colors that we become unable to accurately identify their values.
color oversaturation

Now desaturate the image all the way to black and white. Even without color, it’s easy to identify shape and form in the photograph. It still works. So if my initial pencil drawings (with paper standing in for lights, some sort of wash to indicate greys, and a heavy marking for the darks) don’t look balanced or clear, there isn’t much chance that adding color will ‘fix’ things. If anything, it’ll just make the illustration more confusing. A good thing to bear in mind. It pays to make thorough grayscale studies, if you’re in a hurry or don’t like scrubbing back, covering over, and strating from scratch too often.

values

I’ve started using a quick way to keep tabs on my values as I paint. I take my simple point-and-shoot camera, set it to black and white, and take a photo at every stage of the painting. You could then upload to a laptop for viewing, though I usually don’t bother…the viewing screen on the back of most Canon cameras (even the el cheapo ones) is usually big enough to look at the shot straight off. This allows me to keep an eye on what my values are doing. I can see right away if my painting is starting to get an allover dark treatment, if my subject is slowly disappearing into the background behind her with every burnt umber glaze I give her. I can see where a light outline might be necessary, or something needs to be brought back up to a lighter shade. I can also immediately see whether the way I have applied highlights and shadows to the subject makes it real, makes it solid, or if I have gone and put different shadows in all the wrong places, so that the light doesn’t actually come from one source, as it probably should. But even when I am not trying to paint realistically

—because painting is not about copying objects in the world so accurately that “it looks just like a photograph”…bah, what do you think a camera is for, then? Before the camera, sure, people wanted a way to document their lives, their wealth, their surrounds, and painters did that for them…but now that cameras are as common as sinks, painting has been freed from that slavish documentary role, and can finally exist for its own sake. Folks who think that ‘realistic’ determines whether a painting or drawing is good or not should go back to mowing the lawn or watching Find My family, and leave art alone. Rant over.—

…I keep an eye on values for the liveliness and movement within the painting. A dynamic balance of lights and darks, quietly leading the eye from one part of the painting to another, can give it that energy. Think Jackson Pollock. You could accidentally tip forward into one of his paintings, and might be falling forever…there’s so much space behind, inside his paintings.

All of which real painters know, and I’m not a real painter, so forgive me if I presume to spout off about some basic knowledge that I, myself, have only just stumbled upon. But if I didn’t know it before, maybe someone else will find it new, too. And these things can apply to any art or design that involves form and color…embroidery, for example. Not everything I’ve done was checked for values, and I still went ahead and made a ton of mistakes, even knowing about ‘the values thing’…like I can see in this painting that her big blooming rose of a head is the same value as the background wall…and her yellow skirt could have been a little lighter, or patterned to stand out from the background some more, too. I might make a few minor changes, but time’s a’flying, so I can only hope the next painting will be better.

ouch.

ouch.

A fascinating interaction occurred today, between my palm, a stubborn walnut, and a chef’s knife. Stupid accident, and entirely my fault; this has brought me up against the sobering thought, once again, of how tenderly our lives roll along…a small thing like stabbing yourself in the hand can derail the day, and we swerve off to someplace we never wanted to go. There go today’s plans to row ashore, cycle to town, do things, go places…

I’m fine, I’m fine, it doesn’t even hurt anymore…though the first half hour after it happened was AMAZING…the nuances of great and greater pain! Then the way the whole body reacted to the wound: nausea, and the whistling sound of rushing wind in my ears, and the way the room started to slosh around like a storm at sea. It was almost worth doing, just to be able to sit, moaning weakly, and register each new, horrible sensation.

Poor me, guess that means I’ll just have to sit and embroider the rest of the day…

and watch the sea slide out and back into the harbour with the tides…

and read a good book (btw, I’ve just finished Barbara Walker’s Reading By Moonlight…a great book about how reading and storytelling can help us get through difficult times, and to heal)...

and listen to classical music…

and photograph the green-gold light and shadow cast by a bottle of olive oil in the blazing sun.

Alas. :P

shadow

Not-So-Still Life

Not-So-Still Life

i thank You God for most this amazing
day:for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky;and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
 
(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday;this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings:and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
 
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any—lifted from the no
of all nothing—human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
 
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)
 
—e.e.cummings (No.65 from XAIPE)
 

Lucked out this morning…had one of those serendipitous moments of everyday gorgeousness as I sat down to breakfast by myself.

It was cold on deck and I wasn’t feeling particularly inspired. I pinned a bedsheet to the clothesline to air it, then shuffled around getting something to eat. I had wolfed down most of the kalamata bread in dry chunks, had peeled and quartered an orange, and was about to pour a second coffee and bundle away to my work table inside (out of the wind and cold) when the arrangement on the table in front of me stopped me in my tracks. All I had to do was move that old brass lamp a little to the left, and take the picture.

The sheer unlikelihood of an arrangement like this forming by itself, in our utilitarian and generally unattractive home—rather than having gone around trying to set things up for a photo—and then my having spotted it even though I wasn’t feeling creative or receptive to anything, strikes me as being ten times more precious than the beautiful or attractive things that I work on, think about, influence and pour my creative resources into.

And it made me wonder whether there mightn’t be two kinds of creativity—the kind that imposes itself upon the world, making something out of nothing, “breeding Lilacs out of the dead land…” sort of thing…and the kind that simply looks around, and sees the beauty and perfection that has always just been there—and which one would I prefer to have?

Or maybe they are two sides of one coin, and you cannot have one without the other?

Oh Shoot…

From the perspective of memory, photography appears
as a jumble that consists partly of garbage…

—Siegfried Kracauer, Photography

I’m going to be in Manila soon, for a month’s visit to see family and friends, and of course I’ll have my camera with me, though I didn’t use it much the last time I was there (in 2007.)

I did a search for some sort of “list of things to shoot while you are traveling” on the internet, and found a few that were sort of what I was after, though because these lists are guidelines for all travellers, to all countries, they’re pretty broad. There were basic topics like water, old people, young people, religion, sports, socializing, rich, poor, economy, food, art, history, views, architecture

There was one category called “Odd/whacky/other”—like, huh? Why would you want to take anything else?

Investigating a camera. Butbut, Tinglayan, Kalinga 1948And there was that ever-popular theme (embodying everything there is to deplore about hackneyed National Geographic fodder) called Modern Vs. Traditional. One is assailed immediately by images of a water buffalo and farmer against glass skyscrapers in the setting sun…or hot young things walking leggily past wrinkled old women hunched over rice paddy mud…or lion dancers in full costume taking a burger break at McDonald’s…or (this one was offered by my friend Jan Carter) the photographer and his camera, with a zillion ragged members of the tribe (take your pick…Peru, Sakhalin, Kalinga, Angola) gawking behind him. The clichéd ‘cultural anthropology’ photograph.

I realized that if I took the lazy approach and followed someone’s internet list, I’d end up with a collection of mediocre photographs, good for little more than some cheesy Visit The Philippines website, a low-budget travel agency’s brochure, or yet another educational DVD marketed to schools (like this photograph, which was used to illustrate the geographical event “A river” As in, a generic river. Oh boy.)

So I got off my lazy butt and wrote a hit list of my own:

  • meat and fish markets
  • the slums
  • prostitutes
  • transvestites
  • the stark, the raving, the mad
  • street children and beggars
  • funeral parlours and tombstone carvers
  • the train tracks and the slums along the tracks
  • Chinatown and Muslim town
  • signage
  • the heartbreaking and nightmarish Manila Zoo
  • the pedophiles
  • the animals: horses pulling the carts, the alley cats, the pigeons, the dogs…
  • street food and street vendors
  • pedicabs and jeepneys, because they’re awesome
  • portraits
  • canals
  • Jesus
  • salesgirls
  • clergymen
  • plus many of the conventional topics I mentioned at the beginning of this post, of course…

In the end, it’s all garbage, anyway, but if I’m going to collect garbage, it may as well be different from everyone else’s garbage, no?

I think that because it was My Home for 31 years, I have never bothered to photograph The Philippines seriously. Took it for granted, as one does those all those familiar, everyday sights and places. This time around, however, I feel a real desire to take pictures of the things that make her distinctive (perhaps this is my way of gently acknowledging or announcing, to myself as well as to others, that Manila is no longer My Home…nor is the Philippines my ‘homeland’ anymore, for that matter. I have grown estranged from her, I have grown away. I could not go back there to live, and be happy, again.

Sad, yes, but hopeful, too…it is a re-enactment of the ritual of the child who grows up and walks away from the place where she was raised, this way that human beings have spread out into the world for centuries: driven away by conditions at home…or in search of conditions that couldn’t be had at home.

There are those who choose to stay—if you take them away, they wilt like Dutch flowers at the equator, their hearts are so emotionally woven into the soil of their families and homeland—and there are those who cannot wait to get out, desperate to shake off the ties that bind them to a place.

Kris and I were born the latter: he built his first wooden boat—in the dirty courtyard of their Communist-era apartment in Prague, and having never seen the sea— at the age of 10. And the first time my mother found me gregariously engaged with strangers, several heart-stopping blocks away from our Makati City apartment, I was three years old.

I’ve been wandering off, further and further afield, ever since. So much that I approach this upcoming trip to Manila like a tourist (with a list of subjects to shoot!), having moved so far away from it in my heart. Is this what Eliot meant when he wrote “And the end of all our exploring will be to arrive where we started and know the place for the first time”?


Committing to 15 Projects

This picks up where the last post, Michael Nobbs Takes 20 Minutes a Day, left off. The simple idea is to:

….Pick something you’d like to achieve and publicly commit to doing it.

Then regularly (everyday if possible, but at least three or four times a week) work on your project for twenty minutes.

Michael Nobbs | Sustainably Creative » Take the 20 minutes a day challenge.

Deciding to take this challenge up, I made a (rather long) list of things I’d like to work on, make, achieve, experience, do…and picked the first (or the most pressing) fifteen items on that list. I’m going to try and give each of these items 20 minutes,at least 3 or 4 days a week, and see if I can bring them all closer to the finish line at a roughly even rate, without neglecting any one of them.

15 Projects I am publicly commiting to doing...

1. Fill a sketchbook with drawings

2. Join a group and complete a 365 photo challenge

3. grow a lovely veggie and flower garden on the boat

4. “Random Acts of Crewelty” : Have An Exhibit in 2011

5. The Phat Quarter Swap: Movies!

6. Sew a Spool Bird: “Red Brocade Bird”

7. Sew at least one item with each of the patterns in my collection

8. Make a group of 15 journals using the Allium flower technique

9. Framed, embroidered pendants and jewelry

10. Read 10 books before the end of the year

11. Use up all my small canvases…paint lots of small paintings!

12. Write 4 poems

13. Craft a series of patchworked journals and mini quilts (20)

14. Craft 12 Bijou (miniature) books using existing materials

15. Complete the August Challenge on 750Words.com

Most of these projects are part of a bigger project, with its own blog, called From Hell to Breakfast