The dance of life

"Prachtig" 

Gert Roos

Creative projects never progress very fast with me. But there are visible creative growth spurts.
I am experiencing one right now. Thank you Gert.

For years, and years I wanted to do an animation project.
Maybe this stems back from the Ballycardool project I was involved in (making the figures) in the two years leading up to me becoming ill.
Or maybe because I love puppets. I love when 'dolls' come to life.
Maybe it is the Life Outside the Box project that sparked finally starting my dream project.

I knew the theme of my project for a long time...
Inspired by this image from the Japanese animation movie Spirits of the Past.

still from: Origin, Spirits of the Past. Keiichi Sugiyama (Director) 

Although I tried to so something with this image initially through the form of a tapestry.

And... in all honesty - cocoons, pods, eggs, boxes... have appeared in my work for as long as have made Artist Dolls. (See link below to my galleries if you like to see them).

Anyway.
A pod
A cocoon
and a figure emerging from it
exploring my garden.

a little footnote
Over the years my creative work seems to go hand in hand with what is going on in my life. But I only became aware of these 'coincidences' much later. Sometimes months or even years.

So.
In July (I think) I bought an animation armature.
Sounds grand, but it really is a bag full of tiny, tiny, nuts and bolds, and rods, and screws, and wire, and a drawing on how to put these bits into a a figure.

Fun. Frustrating. Painful (literarly). But in the end I did have a little 'being'

I found some small eyes and put this in a piece of clay. The base for the head.

This is the way 'she' sat there for months and months, while I researched on how to make hands, that can move; what material to use, how can I make a face that shows expression... Animation/claymation is mind blowing stuff really. But interesting to explore a completely new territory.

The first cocoon I made out of paper mache, but as I wanted to be out in the garden, it had to be made out of real clay. This method brings its challenges. 

Real clay (versus air drying clay) shrinks a lot during drying and can not that easily be added on to when dry. And my studio days can be few and far between. But in the end, I did end up with a pod. And to my surprise and delight, it did not crack at all, at all, during the firing.

unfinished cocoon

The idea is that this little being would emerge from the pod/cocoon and walk through my garden.

But when I thought about it a bit more, it felt kind of lonely.

So I bought another armature. A slightly different one. 

Two, to dance together through life.

'She' turned out to be a little bigger. Somehow a little bolder.

I brought both with me to my retreat at Dzoghen Beara in February.

In the past the work that came from my hands and mind in Room 4 had a kind of wisdom in it. The location, the peace, my thoughts all making their way into my creations (Think 'Into the Light' book, and my Wisdom sculpture).

at Dzogchen Beara

I worked on the little one first. Shaping the body and working on her face.

It took me a few day, and what emerged was a kind of wise, quiet, knowing expression. 

A kind of purity - according to John Doughlas.

John Doughlas

The last day I got to know the other little being.
She turned out to be much 'bolder'. Stronger. 'Out there'. Not really caring what anyone thought of her.

John, the wonderful spiritual care staff at Dzogchen Beara whom I have chatted with every single time I was at this beautiful place. He is wise. Very wise. Just before I headed home he explored the week's thoughts with me. And we ended up talking through these two little figures. Talking about where I am at in my life... I am ready to speak up... but bring the wisdom of illness with me.

Ready to dance. The dance of acceptance. The two figures representing both side of me.

"She can only dance when she remembers the connection of the pure one"

dance of life- who is pulling the strings

John wondered that maybe the pure one is pulling the 'strings' of the bolder one.

The pure one having a kind of presence, but not really engaging with her surroundings. 

She can retreat back into her cocoon. 

Together they can dance with joy. And hold on to the inner contentment.

Much later, at home again,  I finally go to work on the cocoon.

resting

I went into the studio to paint it, but ended up using the beautiful papery layers of a wasp's nest.

And over the past few weeks, I have worked a few times on the hands and feet, and boots. Using Silicone. Again a process of trial and (many) errors. But am getting there.

adding silicone on to make hands

On one of the sunny days last week, I chose the location in my garden where the cocoon will be filmed. (how that will happen I don't yet know...)

cocoon in my garden

But then, I received the sad, sad news that my dear friend Gert Roos had passed away after a long illness. A brave man. A friend for 33 years. Gert encouraged me in my journey through life and illness. Encouraged my creative path. (I will write a proper post over the next few days about this beautiful human being).

The sadness of no longer being able to share our worlds took a great deal of my thoughts and energy.

Yet, Somehow I felt this great need to go into my studio. I found I was able to work on the little figure. I gave it hair. I started with the clothing. I felt at ease.

I truly believe that Gert was there with me. Guiding me to keep going. 

To step out of that cocoon, and dance with life.

I have been in my studio every day for the past few days. And will go there again today.

Over the past few months, we communicated via what's app. Sending short messages, memories and photos. I forwarded images and a short film of the cocoon opening to him. The word that came back most times was "Prachtig". Which does not have a direct translation in English, but are a mix between: lovely, gorgeous, stunning, wonderful...

Thank you my dear friend.

Much love to you and all.

Further reading and links

• first images of animation project
• The Dance of Illness
• A drawing by Artist Spark Deeley of the way I sleep
• Fantasy Folk and early ME-related art  and more recent sculptures

The unlikely questions a new tapestry can bring forth …

'Tree of Life' Tapestry in the making
© Corina Duyn 2016

I seem to create one tapestry a year. I finished my last tapestry - Autumn Joy - just before my July exhibition. During the past two months or so I have been playing with ideas for this year’s weaving adventure.

A tree.

Life.

The Tree of Life.

I mashed together images of trees, drawing of female body, photographs of birds and roots. Literally a case of cut and paste on computer, but also with paper, scissors and glue.

Thank goodness for the arrival of my friend and weaving teacher Pascale De Coninck, to put the warp threads on my tapestry frame. A job I find tedious, and exhausting. She can do it in her sleep- it seems. I gladly supply drinks and food in return!

Desing for 'Tree of Life' Tapestry
© Corina Duyn 2016

I had drawn my design on the warp threads, sorted some of the colours and set up the frame in my study. 
And there it stayed. Untouched for many weeks.

I had other matters to attend to, like the CAP Awards and the planning and designs for the Dis-ability … This Ability Exhibition.

A few days ago, I was surprised- again- that it only takes one 20-minute session to become addicted to weaving…

First twenty minutes of weaving
the 'Tree of Life' Tapestry
© Corina Duyn 2016

After that first session, I woke up the following morning with the excitement a child would have for its birthday or the arrival of Santa. “I can weave today!”

I would glance into my study where the frame is attached to my desk. Butterflies in my stomach.

One of the biggest challenge is that I can only weave for twenty minutes at the time, to avoid my back screaming at me to stop. I weave for four or five songs or meditation music. But I love it all the same.

Anyway.

I was so excited that I “What’sApp’d” a photograph to Pascale (the one who got me addicted), to say I had finally started the actual weaving.

The following day - following more images of progress, a discussion arose about the work on hand.

I have a habit of creating an image I like, but not really thinking about the whole story behind it. That seems to comes later. The true artist Pascale is, always challenges me about my designs, and how on earth I am going to make what I designed. This time it was no different..

I was congratulated about starting, and that I am good at it - only had done a few centimeters ....  The question, “How are you going to do the tree?” followed within the one text-message.

'Tree of Life' Tapestry-straight lines ...
© Corina Duyn 2016

My reply: 
“…as yet, no real idea how to do tree...! But going to keep the background simple (as it is now). Straight lines as the focus is on the tree.
However, when I typed 'straight lines' I paused. I wonder if that is really true..?"

Response: “You can guess where my mind went: when I read you paused and questioned whether 'straight' lines was true I thought you mean as opposite of 'gay' lines? Then chuckled and wondered what gay lines would look like. Then obviously they are wavy and bouncy as the word gay = happy, which brought me to literally non-straight lines. 

Anyway. What did you question about straight lines?

Me: 
“Yes, I questioned ‘straight’, then I thought I better write Straight Lines, as one could think it would refer to the word gay. [I am gay].

I rarely weave just back and forth - as you know. I had thought to put in some other beige threads but decided not to yesterday when I started the main background. But when I wrote that to you it surprised me that I stopped typing ... so maybe the background won't be just all the one type of thread woven in straight lines. We'll see!”

Response: 
“Yes, your usual non-straight lines. I was surprised to see the solidness of the background because it's not your usual, almost signature, background. Interesting you stopped when typing! It does look good and yes the tree is the focus with all its curves and the straight background would really give it that contrast and silence to support it. Yet still intriguing you stopped. Using different colours straight lines will give very different effect again. Compromise between what? What is it you want to say with the background?

The interesting thing about weaving is there is no negative space, you have to build every space in weaving, it's not something that just happens because of creating an image...”

See what I mean? I just design something, and then I am challenged with these deep questions. ‘Stuff’ that goes into my brain and won’t leave until it is answered…

My resolve:

"Trying to work it out by writing about it.

I intended for a clean, simple background.

Calmness.

Then I wrote: But in reality does a tree (of life) grow in calmness? It would be disconnected, yet I don't want a busy, filled background. I like the simple lines. Simple colours.

Then to my surprise this came out of my pen: you can only grow if you live in peace...

Might introduce texture, but not colour."

Response:

“Waw!

Yes that is true. You can only grow when you live in peace. That pretty much describes an insight and experience I had in last three days.

It is very true.

'Tree of Life' Tapestry in the making
© Corina Duyn 2016

How will you express peace? With the change in texture and simple stripes? Almost like a soft rippling sea, movement and gentle energy without being overpowering. 

Sounds good, sounds even right. Finding the visual textural woven language for it....

I trust you will.”

Solution:

I changed the very straight lines to a slight rippling effect. Slight variation in texture, but not colour. And to my surprise the leaves of the tree are, as yet, not really green. They have a texture to them. Subtle. Light. Airy.

A gentle growing.

In peace.

Links to pages and events mentioned in this post: 

• Pascale De Coninck's website
• Corina's previous tapestries
• Travelling to the CAP Awards
• The upcoming Dis-ability ... This Ability Exhibition