thinking out loud

Last weekend I spent an amazing four days in Deloraine attending Woodfire Tas 2011. I met artists from all over Australia and overseas and my head is full of ideas. Someone also very kindly gave me a cold that has decided to settle in my chest so apologies in advance if this post is a bit rambly, as it is hard to keep a train of thought happening when I have to stop and reach for the tissues every five minutes.

I am trying to reflect on what I got out of the conference and to put it simply I received confirmation that I am on the right track. When I meet new people I am often a bit flippant and will fall back on terse one liners which often do not accurately represent me at all. By chance I was having lunch with one of the presenters at the conference and in passing I said I was too lazy to be a woodfirer, as the conversation progressed she commented that lazy wasn’t a word she would use to describe me and that I must stop using it.

I thought about her words for a bit and decided that she was right. I really need to banish those whispering ghosts once and for all.

My work  is all about economy, economy of effort, economy of resource and most importantly, economy of time.

I have a strong sense of place here in the  Tasmanian hills. I am influenced by my landscape, by drought, by early frosts, by the cold and by the heat. I need my work to reflect that sense of place.

When I am digging local clays to use in glazes I need these glazes to reflect where I am. There is no point using a clay gathered from a coastal region if I am trying to illustrate the tensions of living inland. Though it could be argued that Tasmania is so small that nowhere inland is far from the coast but that is a topic for another day.

Economy of time is of critical importance as often the ideas are fleeting and I need to make the piece all in one go. Grab the clay, make the pot, decorate the pot, put it aside and move on to the next piece.

Demonstrations and talks by Steve Williams and Graeme Wilkie helped to reinforce the ideas that had been swirling around in my head. Graeme Wilkie makes wonderful large work and he talked about working intuitively and finding the quiet space within yourself that allows the clay to direct the work.

Steve Williams says that, “To come back to a form when it has firmed and rekindle a relationship to turn and decorate is for me an ‘alien’ process”


I don’t like to come back to the work either and that is one of the reasons I have been thinking about the raw firing process, so that I only have to mess about with the pots once.

This is some of the beautiful work that was in one of the exhibitions, curated by Ben Richardson.

To finish here is another photo, I took when I was on top of  Mount Wellington. I cant see the mountain from my home here in the Southern Midlands and I fretted for a long time. Even though I can see her when I drive down the hill, it isn’t the same as looking out of your window and watching her change through out the course of the day.

 

 

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I have that line stuck in my head now but I cant remember the song it is from. Old age, people, old age.

Anyway the point of this post is to tell you that I will be talking on the radio this Friday morning. My daughter Veronica rang me yesterday to let me know that we will both be talking to ABC local radio presenter Ryk Goddard about our experiences as Mothers.

I think the point of the interview is to compare the differences with two generations of Mothers.

There aren’t the glaring differences with Veronica and my experiences of motherhood as there was between My mother and myself. Things had changed radically from the 60s style of motherhood to the 80s version of motherhood but not much has changed really from the 80s to now.

I think you could say that with a lot of aspects of womanhood as well. There was the great fight for womens rights in the 60s and 70s but by the time I was a grown woman in the mid eighties I took all my freedoms for granted and I was spoiled for choice. I had easy access to birth control, I could go to any university I wanted to, I had plenty of job offers on the table and I was about to start a horticultural apprenticeship, when I chucked it all in to become a stay at home mum.

Once I held my new baby in my arms I chose to be a stay at home mum and choosing to be that stay at home mum was a lot more difficult than I expected it to be.

Financially it was a nightmare. The Spouse was a deckhand at the time, a third generation fisherman and it was always feast or famine living with a fisherman.

He was at sea when Veronica was born and managed to get home to meet his daughter when she was three days old. He had gone back to sea again before we had even left the hospital to go home on day five.

When Veronica was twelve months old our rental house was sold and we moved away from the city to live closer to the block of land my Mum had given me. We ended up living in a converted bus in Mum’s back yard for eighteen months, luckily it was a very big backyard or Mum and I would have driven each other crazy.

I remember having an epiphany one day down at the wharf, holding my small daughter in my arms and us both waving to The Spouse as he sailed away. The feeling I got as I watched these small men in this small boat venture out onto this huge grey ocean was one of impending doom. Veronica and I waved until we couldn’t see that tiny speck anymore and then we did what countless generations of fishermens families had done before ue, we went home to wait.

I made The Spouse chuck his job in when he returned home. I argued passionately that the money wasn’t worth it for the risks he was taking and that he needed to stay on dry land or else. The Spouse wasnt prepared to risk the “or else” and he stayed home with me. Within a month of  “The Spouse stopping work we had moved the bus up to our own land, funny how living in your Mother in law’s backyard quickly loses its charm when you are actually there every day. It was a hard transition for a man with salt in his veins to make and one day I am going to make a large sculpture of Poseidon and have him here looking down the valley shaking his trident angrily at the circumstances that left the sea god marooned so far inland.

The skipper hit a rock, off South Cape on the next trip with a green crew and they were unable to save the boat.  The crew were fine but it proved my point and The Spouse has never returned to the sea.

So here I am sitting at the computer twenty odd years later reminiscing and trying to work out what on earth I am going to talk about on the radio. I did things so differently from my peers. We eschewed the mortgage and the 9-5 lifestyle in favour of an alternative lifestyle where we built our house room by room out of recycled materials. This wasn’t done to fit in with some utopian dream of ours, it was down to simple necessity. I had chosen to be a full time mum and The Spouse found it very difficult to hold down a job that wasn’t at sea.

We were also young and full of beans and had all the time in the world.

I think that on Friday morning I will do what I normally do, I will just wing it, I will work it out as I go along, I will follow my daughter’s lead and I will hope like hell that I dont babble.

It will be just like everything else in my life.

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It is 5.54 am and…

by frogpondsrock on January 5, 2011

in blogging,friendship,thinking out loud

I have been sitting here for about forty minutes, staring out the window and daydreaming away as I try and think of something to write about. Some days the words just pour out of the tips of my fingers and other days they hide away from me.

I am not that fussed by my mild bloggers block as in an attempt to cheer me up an internet friend on twitter told me even Mozart has quiet bits. That made me laugh out loud and did indeed put things back into perspective.

There are zillions of blogs out there in the blogosphere and I have been talking to you my dear internetz now for over three years, so a bit of silence from me wont be noticed in amongst the white noise of the internet.

I have been asked on more than one occasion why I feel the need to blog and the question has also been put to me that as an artist shouldn’t my blog be more serious and professional and just deal with my art? Aren’t I worried about people stealing my words, my ideas, my identity? How on earth can I expect to be taken seriously as an artist if “that blog of yours” is your public face? *sigh*

Why do I blog?

I had things to say, stories to tell and my circle of acquaintances, neighbours and friends weren’t interested in what I had to say. Sure people would ring me up when they needed to know why their broccoli had bolted to seed, or how to help a pig with a runny nose. If they wanted a recipe for simple ointment for eczema or needed to know what insect was skeletonizing the leaves on their trees I was sure to receive a call. But as for listening to what I was thinking about politics, society,ethical food production or my concern for the environment, for our survival as a species, there was no point even starting a conversation.

The women that I knew from the local school were interested in Michael Jackson’s nose not Michael Moore’s films. Don’t get me wrong I had  friends in the local community as well but for the most part I was lonely and frustrated, a tree hugging hippie greenie in a community of  graziers and poppy farmers, mill workers and liberal voters.(for my American friends liberal voters in Australia are conservatives not liberals)

I was different, my children were different and I would have been much much happier living in the hills above Cygnet instead of the hills above a small Southern Midlands town.

So I started to  blog because I was isolated and lonely and by blogging I  found my community. I have made friends and connections that ten years ago would have astounded me had I known the range of international friendships that I would develop crossing the length and breadth of  mainland Australia, America and Europe. My life is much richer for these friendships and I am not lonely at all any more.

As for being taken seriously as an artist. I don’t think that is what I am after. I am too eclectic a person to be pigeonholed into one small box and I don’t have the time or the energy or the money to complete an arts degree.

I am driven by passion. Passion for the environment, for education, for my family, for beauty. I am passionate about a lot of things and to try and stifle that passion in order to fit into some sort of prescribed box that someone else wants me to fit would be impossible.

So I have been silent here on my blog lately as I try and work out where it is I want to go with my blog.

When I first started blogging, Australian blogs were thin on the ground and there were only a handful of Aussie bloggers in my reader. Now it seems that every man and his dog has a blog and whilst I think that is a good thing it also leads to blogging fatigue on my part. I am simply unable to keep up with the amount of interesting new blogs out there and find myself leaving one random comment on a blog, or clicking the friend connect widget and tucking the blog away safely in my reader and rarely if ever commenting again even though I read regularly.

So I have been pondering away as I work in the garden, do I just keep on going as I am and write what ever moves me, write about my passions and see what happens. Or do I close down Frog Ponds Rock and just use twitter and facebook to stay in touch? I don’t know. I will see what happens.

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I woke up this morning to find three comments from the delightful Issac a student at one of Canberra’s houses of higher learning, ANU. Obviously Issac’s work load is very light as he spent a bit of time on my blog leaving inane comments and looking up my personal details in the yellow pages directory. You will make a fine lawyer, son.

Thankyou for leaving my address in the comments section of my blog Issac, it was most thoughtful of you to remind me where I live. As one ages, it is these sort of tricky details that tend to get forgotten.

I am not sure what it was Issac thought he was gaining by leaving my home address on my blog. I have been blogging under my own name for a long time now and most of my details are available online anytime that you care to look. Also when the Tasmanian election campaign was running, I published the full details of my name and address on my twitter account in order to comply with section 191 of the electoral act.

But it does raise questions about privacy on the internet, safety of ones family if you have small children and the possibility of identity theft. I am not fussed about my own privacy as evidenced by some of my posts, where I have bared my soul here. My children aren’t small and vulnerable to kidnappers, though some days I would consider paying someone to kidnap my teenage son for a week or so and as for identity theft my credit rating is crap.

How would you feel my lovelies if some tosser published your details in the comments section of your blogs?

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Artist Bio for the Off Centre Gallery

by frogpondsrock on September 11, 2010

in ceramics,thinking out loud

As an artist it seems that I am forever writing artist statements to go with whatever piece of work that I am exhibiting at the time. These statements are important, in that they give total strangers a glimpse into the ideas behind the work, as well as a bit of information about me the artist. Sometimes I can write an artist statement in about two minutes flat and it is beautiful, other times I struggle with the words and the statement sounds a bit wanky.

I have needed to write a bio for the Off Centre Gallery for ages now and I keep on forgetting about it.

So here we go my lovelies I am going to put it up here and you can tell me what you reckon. I welcome any grammatical corrections as my sentence structure is a bit wonky.

My name is Kim Foale and I am a Ceramic Artist. I fell in love with clay over twenty years ago but life and children intervened. I spent most of the nineties and early noughties raising my children and helping my husband build our home from recycled materials.

When my eldest child went to college she dragged me along with her and I rediscovered my love for clay. I have been working towards a diploma of ceramics, part time since 2006.

Josiah Wedgwood the father of industrialised pottery production is quoted as saying, ” I will turn men into machines.” My work  is made in direct  response to the factory produced ceramics that you can find in any large department store.

I am not a machine. I deliberately leave fingermarks in the glaze, somewhere within my work and they are most evident at the base of my tall cups. My edges are uneven on purpose and I  put a lot of time and thought into each individual piece. I make one off original art pieces, generally with an environmental story to them. I fire in reduction as well as oxidation and I like to use stone or bone tools when I am working, as my clay responds better to these natural materials.

The more I learn about ceramics the less I realize I know and I am happy to be a perpetual student of my craft.

You can find out more about me on my personal blog frogpondsrock.com

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