Share with us two (2) “teaser” sentences from that page.
You also need to share the title of the book that you’re getting your “teaser” from … that way people can have some great book recommendations if they like the teaser you’ve given!
“If I had been told that the last of my infatuations would be with a girl with provocative manners and cathouse connections (a cathouse – you know, a home for cats), I would have supposed I was determined to suffer one of those derided deaths in which the patron of the house of ill repute has a heart attack in media res and his corpse has to be hastily dressed and smuggled out and dumped in an alley. But no, if the new dream is to be trusted it will not be like that.”
from Diary of a Bad Year by JM Coetzee (p54)
I could not smile any wider if I had instruments to help me do it.
In the last week, I have recieved two (yes, TWO!) acceptance letters from publications I love and respect. I’m not sure if it’s OK to publicize who they are before they’re released, so let’s just say that I’m in, I’ll be published, I’ll be pimping the hell out of these journals when they’re released, both to come out in the next few months.
It’s a funny experience – I’ve just had a moment where I went “Oh shit! People will be reading my writing!” Real people, with critical minds. That makes me a bit nervous…
I also now have this itch to write, follow it up, follow it up! Publication is not an end-point, it’s just the beginning.
It’s funny how people in your life come back. You meet someone, then they pop up later, more awesome and more brilliant than before. You’re glad you met.
This is how I feel about one Clara Emily McKay. We met when we were about 13, shoved together in what was lovingly dubbed “the smart-ass class” by the rest of the school. Between 13 and 18 we got to know each other, then there was a few years’ hiatus between school and The Real World. And now Clara Emily McKay is back in my life – more awesome and more brilliant than ever.
Clara is an artist – she makes sculptures, takes photos, creates the most amazing wearable art I’ve ever seen. I admire Clara because she has such an unstoppable impulse to create, and because the things she makes often prompt me to work. They move me.
Her blog is constantly updated, and she always has insightful and thought-provoking things to say.
She was kind enough to have a chat with me:
Q. Most accurate word to describe yourself
At the moment, exhausted!
Q. Most accurate word to describe what you do Intimate-craft (I cheated)
Q. You make a lot of found art – what do found objects give to your work that other things can’t? Found objects impart their own layering upon and affect the existing concepts or readings of my work, then further serve to colour all subsequent ideas related to the specific piece, those being both metaphorical and aesthetic.
These connotations may be obvious or very personal and introspective, I think personal is much more successful because it’s as if a peripheral part of the practitioner has been sacrificed for the piece and I believe that viewers associate with that and then mentally examine even if momentarily, an analogous part of themselves.
Q. What about other found art forms? Found poems made from track lists, shopping lists, etc. Are they valid, or just hacks? This is a difficult question, there is a lot of trash art as I like to refer to it as, unfortunately there’s some of it in my class! Yet, in saying that, I’m a strong supporter of found art, when it’s done well. The magic associated with the nature of using found objects – in art or literary form – is in the mystification of the object, the aesthetic and conceptual askew-ing that is conceived and implemented by the maker is what heightens these pieces to ‘art object’.
That layering could be something as strenuous as completely manipulating the object aesthetically in order to remove it entirely from its usual visual confines or could be something as simple as giving it a title.
Q. What does your creative process involve? Is there a ritual or typical way it happens, or is it spontaneous? My creative process varies, sometimes an object finds me and I need to interpret it, or sometimes I hoard things for years waiting for the appropriate time to deploy them. This can also be said for my photography – it is for the most part spontaneous.
In regards to my embroidered works, actually deciding on patterns, colour and arrangements can take months, especially in regards to fonts.
Whilst in regards to the prose employed within the latter (and other objects) it is most often scribbled down in those moments between putting down my book and turning out the light in bed.
Q. You’ve taken a while to find your artistic voice (is that what it’s called for visual artists? A “voice”?) – and have done a lot of different stuff along the way. What has this journey involved for you? I’m yet to find my artistic voice, to be honest my work is still quite unavoidably introverted despite how inclusive I intend for it be although, I think that I’ve definitely come into possession of my aesthetic.
My journey would be one that’s included a brief foray into Silversmithing, a much longer foray in Law and a heck of a lot of hospitality work! But I haven’t ended up too far from more original intentions, despite getting here via an extended route, I most certainly have regrets but I’ve definitely broadened by knowledge and experience, not to mention my Hecs debt.
Q. You blog about your artworks, as well as critiquing exhibitions you go to and showcasing work by other artists. What kind of role does your blog play in your artistic life? First and foremost, my blogs offers an avenue of escapism, although it’s admittedly currently being just slightly ignored, I find sitting down to write a post relaxing and rewarding. My blog “voice” is very different to the convoluted and well-researched one that I adopt in my studies so it’s essentially a breath of fresh air!
I also use my blog as a digital visual diary – it doesn’t convey half as much as my real journals do but it feels overwhelmingly melancholic to refrain from sharing these findings and lock them away between the covers of my journals only to ever be glanced at by a lecturer for one millionth of a second.
Q. What are you trying to do with your art? Is it about getting something out, or making a statement, or just making aesthetically pleasing things? At this stage my practice has convened upon intending to solely influence the viewer to remember – to remind them of any seemingly insignificant moments – and submerge them within the mood that was imbued by that specific occurrence, however fragmentary.
Whilst my works may have an element of abstracted self-portraiture, my tenebrous images and awry, very personal prose are employed as vehicles intended to remind them of their own memories.
Q. You and I grew up together in a smallish community. Apart from the fact that I was there, do you think this has influenced your work? It most definitely has affected my work, not only did we grow up in a smallish community but we were both put in that very odd accelerated learning program which I believe assisted in making, at least myself, very introverted.
Specifically to my current practice, living in a regional town put physical barriers between myself and experiencing a lot of current art in real life. Therefore, a lot of my work is influenced by what was around me, most obviously my mother’s crafts and continuous needlework. But also, the relationships that I came into contact with and was a part of – the latter being highly influential in relation to one 2010 piece entitled Disintergration & Disintergration II – which examines the possibilities, impossibilities and nuances associated with the struggle for autonomy within intimacy.
Credit for this photo Katelyn Rew Photography
Q. Much of your work has an organic feel – things reminiscent of skin, natural growths, alive things that have a life of their own. Tell us a bit about that. My work is slowly moving away from this aesthetic at the moment, although I think the correlations between and linkings of each work within my practice will always be very obviously organic.
I do find dried flowers, especially roses mesmerizing, not only their multiple connotations, and some of those being rather clichéd, but also their tactile quality coupled with their fragility is something that I will persuade me to continue examining them.
Q. What’s next? Where can we see your work? Next?! Once I graduate this year, I’ll be focussing on my photography, needlework and writing outside of scholarly confines or judgements, which will be absolutely divine, but I’ll also hopefully, be undertaking a diploma of education in 2011.
I’m currently organizing the graduate exhibition for my class at the University of Ballarat, I’ve named it, edited and compiled the catalogue and I’ll be opening the exhibition so as long as it doesn’t melt down into a ‘Clara’ show I’d highly recommend that everyone should check it out – or even if it does!
These are the current details, although they are subject to change –
VISCERAL EXUDATIONS @ SmartArtz Gallery
4 Alfred Place
South Melbourne (just off of Clarendon Street)
The opening night is 23rd September commencing at 6:30pm and the show runs until the 5th October.
Thanks so much to Clara for this interview. Check out her blog, and head down to her exhibition next month.
Mr Hughes sits dead in his chair, a glass of whisky in his hand, while a low crackle spews from the wireless.
Sasha has been laying at his feet since he died, at 5.54 this morning. It is now near lunch time.
Mr Hughes had decided to die, and so he did. His beloved wife had departed a week earlier, and Mr Hughes set his mind to giving up.
For a week as he shuffled toward death, he put his affairs in order. There weren’t many affairs to be ordered, but he left his estate to his dog Sasha, and left her in the care of the state, with the condition that she remained in the house until she died.
He had some trouble, did Mr Hughes. He thought of all the ways a man can die, but none of them took his fancy. They were too messy, or too expensive, or too illegal.
And so last night he sat down with Sasha, poured himself a whisky, and concentrated on the white noise the wireless had to offer. He sat as still as a statue, and stared out his window.
The rose garden stared back at him from the dew-touched morning lawn. How his wife had adored and tended to those roses! Her hands were bitten by thorns and calloused from secateurs, but the flowers nodded at Mr Hughes then as if in apology for his loss. In the week that Mrs Hughes had been gone, weeds had already started to take over the rose beds. Every time Mr Hughes looked at his wife’s secateurs he felt wrong to fix the situation.
Now he resembles a frozen tree, bluish and brittle, haunting yet beautiful. All Sasha can do is wait for someone to come and knock on the door to find her master’s body.
Today I feel like I could do just about anything. I haven’t slept through a whole night in a very long time, but the last two nights I have. I thought you should all know – today I feel really good.
Inspiration in the last week has been much and varied:
Nanofiction based in an alley
I found my missing copy of Monica Wood’s “The Pocket Muse”. Haven’t heard of it before? Get it. Trust me. It makes it easier to get the cogs moving on those days when it just doesn’t want to happen. I actually just found it on Google Books, but I do so love my hard copy. Hand-bag sized, loving little volume of word-making things!
I’ve been messing around with micropoetry and nanofiction submissions this week for the Melbourne Writer’s Festival’s “Poetry 4 U” event. I took some inspiration for this from a woman I used to live with. She makes such wonderful stories, her actual personality is so much better than anything I could make up. I love to write about her.
School has provided inspiration – actually setting me tasks I’m interested in doing (oh, bless you, RMIT!). I wrote a few scenes from my family history and was surprised by how fun it was. I imagined my grandparents’ terror at the prospect of going to Bonegilla (what a happy experience this website makes it seem!).
I’m going to write a column today about reading on public transport and the joys and problems of that. Inspired by a friend unashamedly telling me that he covers embarrassing book covers with brown paper so he won’t be judged.
Feeling good is a good place to write, so often it comes from that other place.
So right now, I’m inspired by this mysterious glow that comes from being well-rested. I’m off to write!
Share with us two (2) “teaser” sentences from that page.
You also need to share the title of the book that you’re getting your “teaser” from … that way people can have some great book recommendations if they like the teaser you’ve given!
“They were all emancipists in that private valley. There, and only there, a man did not have to drag his stinking past around behind him like a dead dog.”
I have a much bigger reading load than I have previously for uni, and my first assessment piece is due on Monday. I’m all about priorities at the moment, so I’m going to go work on this piece.
You won’t hear from me for a few days. Forgive me.
I did TV, I did a blog, I thought radio was worth a shot.
No, that’s a lie. Miss Jorja Kelly thought that I’d be interesting to talk to – little did she know!
It was incredibly scary being on a LIVE show, and as soon as the segment finished I felt like if I’d had more time to consider my answers I’d have much more helpful answers to Jorja’s questions, but on listening to the podcast, I’m not as disgusted or embarrassed as I thought I’d be.
So here it is. And keep listening to “In Other Words”, weekly on Tuesdays from 3 – 3.30pm.
Sam van Zweden 