My Process of Creating and the Techniques I Use
"No matter what a budding artist's background, education, or point of view, he or she must ultimately go to a room, and become an inventor. Only in the quiet moments of the struggle will both success and joy manifest themselves."
Out of failure very often, an opportunity arises, and what is so often perceived as failure is a chance to learn, try a technique in another way, in such a way that the outcome is different than what was before. As artists, crafters, makers and designers, we are confronted with this little nugget of wisdom in our daily practice of trying to make the world a more beautiful place.
Obvara:
Obvara originated in the Baltic countries or Eastern Europe in the 12th century, but it somehow feels very African to me. Maybe because Obvara sealed pots were utilized to hold food, maybe because the obvara techniques speak of ancient cultures. The tactile feel of the raw fully fired earth, the cool unglazed surface of a tumbler in your hands is strangely familiar on an unnamed cellular level.
One of the most attractive qualities of this type of no glaze firing for me, is the unpredictability of the outcome. In a society where control is becoming more and more sought after with its suffocating effect on creativity in general, it is so freeing to let nature take her course. Like a deep breath of fresh mountain air.
The Lady Obvara has many secrets, she is a chameleon. This technique has truly taught me to let go of expectations and embrace and accept that I am not fully in control. The dance between the yeast mixture and the hot clay always resulting in a unique and one of a kind signature. My journey with Obvara has been testing at times, but always interesting.
ICyanotype and eco-prints:
Visual is my first language. Engaging in using nature in cyanotypes and eco-printing has the same effect on me that travelling has. It opens up my horizons and redefines my place in this world and the Universe. I have always thought that I noticed the natural world, the exquisite colours, textures and details of plants. But this art practice changes my perspective every time I do a print, and I then realise how little I noticed before. In this process, I find the connection between my energy and the energy of nature, and the two somehow interacts in a non–intellectual way to express itself in the print. Art that carries the elemental signature of the maker and the place where it was made.
Working with different materials generates its own special energy, and I find the transfer of a technique meant for a fluid and pliable surface like fabric, onto a hard and fixed surface like ceramic fascinating. It is this shift of focus that forms a big part of my life, as it encourages growth and a change of perspective that makes life vibrant.
