In the (National) Trust we trust....

A simple, serene space defined by lines and light. For a few days I responded to this. I found the dead bird on the terrace. I drew some preliminary sketches. I pondered the language of the mark. I imagined the 'text' as a mark representative of function, code and order as is High Cross House; and then I considered the gestural mark, or the trace, as the outside space - unfettered, unpredictable and natural.

I met a fantastic, wonderful, genius, artist the other day who works as a performance writer. Excitedly listened to her describe any mark, including text, as drawing... whole world of dialogue around this opening up to me and low and behold it was born in Dartington..... Serendipity or what? Probably more about this another time.....for now I have to focus.

Something will happen on this terrace. Something will happen that involves the visitors. They come in droves and they are amazing. Full of knowledge and opinion and interest and STORIES. They tell me their stories. National Trust folk - wonderful folk. So I need to respond to them as much as the building.

For now though there is little opportunity to actually draw (because of all the story telling..)

Even less time for quality blogging. So apologies for the unedited random rambling....

Haven't uploaded any new drawings yet.... crazy busy and the universe seems to think now is a good time to pile on the challenges (ie HUGE LIFE PROBLEMS).

This amused me though and I can't seem to post without an image - it seems too naked - so I just tucked it in bad as it is. I did my crossword on the dining table and it accidentally printed out! I have been messing with text and carbon paper.... so this was a delicious discovery. It spoke of grids and random words and language and incidental marks.....

I am at the studio right now. First time I have been here before midday. The sun is beaming right through and it feels completely different to the afternoon light. Need to document the daily shift I think so I'm going to start playing with the shadows in a minute. Also the sounds are strange. The window is sealed really well so not much noise gets through but this quiet sound movement animates somehow. The pulse slow and flowing and then the occasional car slices through down the lane. Trying to respond with marks but I keep reaching for words.....

Quite tempted to play with the digital sound drawing thing again. I really want the response to come from my hand, for it to be my mark but the beauty of employing technology is that you can circumvent the conscious ramblings of the mind and intellect.... they get in the way of a natural response.

Rambling now.... must go and attempt some unconscious mark making...