Month: November 2019

As I discussed in my introduction post for “a bird a day“, I am leaning heavily on online resources to draw these very rare and endangered birds.  

We have some fantastic websites available to help us understand more about our wildlife here in Aotearoa – please take the time to read about these birds in more detail at the links provided!

The Antipodean albatross is a large albatross that varies in colour from black-and-white to chocolate brown depending on sex, age and race. They breed almost exclusively on the Auckland and Antipodes Islands and forage over the continental shelf edge and deep water from south of West Australia to the coast of Chile, but are most common in the Tasman Sea and over the Chatham Rise east of New Zealand. Since 2003 a few pairs have started breeding on the Chatham Islands.

Antipodean albatrosses are closely related to the wandering, Tristan and Amsterdam albatrosses, and more distantly related to the northern and southern royal albatrosses.
Source:
NZ birds online

​My first step was to try to understand seabird anatomy, so I did that in two phases.

First, to understand the flow of the toroa’s body, I picked some photos in a variety of poses and straight-up traced them, to help me identify the areas where I had questions.

​Second, I looked at some albatross skeletons, and eventually got a good enough idea of wing and leg articulations, and the details of the head and beak structure, that I felt confident enough to proceed.

I sketched out some shapes that I liked, then filled in the details with reference to photos. 

I decided to standardise the colouration in a form of greyscale, so that I can do final colours at the end of the process, so all the feathers will be in tones of the two standard grey shades in MS Paint. The beaks are coloured in shades of standard colours, too.

​I am calling this one done – for now.

​Every year, I have a great time getting involved with the memes and fun of Forest and Bird’s “Bird of the Year” competition, but as they state on their website, there’s a serious message behind the fun.

“Sadly, many of New Zealand’s native birds are in crisis. Two thirds of our birds are threatened with extinction. Forest & Bird’s Bird of the Year celebrates our unique birds and with each vote you help give them a voice.”

And every year, I try to draw some more native birds, both to celebrate them, and to bring their plight to the attention of more people. Here at Copper Catkin HQ, we are surrounded by birds to the extent that we have even called our home “Te Rerenga Manu”, the flight of the birds.

I have drawn several native New Zealand birds over the years; they are all well-known stars of many a kiwiana design – which reminds me that I haven’t even blogged about some of them, facepalm. 

This year, I decided to run a poll on my Facebook page, and the consensus was: do some of the lesser-known and more endangered species. 

As those who follow us on social media will probably have noticed, we are still cranking through a lot of property maintenance and decluttering at the weekend, so my bird-drawing activities will probably be restricted to weekdays. 23 birds is a big target, though, so I may cheat a little and do more than one when the mood takes me, if time and other commitments allow!

​I am using this list, sourced from DOC, to guide my choices, and to avoid the temptation to cherry-pick, I will be working in alphabetical order. 

Nationally Critical
Most severely threatened, facing an immediate high risk of extinction:

1. Antipodean wandering albatross/toroa
2. Australasian bittern/matuku-hūrepo
3. Chatham Island black robin
4. Black stilt/kakī
5. Black-billed gull/tarāpuka
6. Chatham Island oystercatcher/tōrea tai
7. Chatham Island shag
8. Chatham Island tāiko
9. Gibson’s wandering albatross/toroa
10. Grey duck/pārera
11. Haast tokoeka
12. Kākāpō
13. Kermadec white-faced storm petrel
14. New Zealand fairy tern/tara iti
15. Orange-fronted parakeet/kākāriki karaka
16. Pacific white tern 
17. Pitt Island shag
18. Rock wren/pīwauwau
19. Salvin’s albatross/toroa
20. Shore plover/tuturuatu
21. South Georgian diving petrel
22. Southern New Zealand dotterel/tūturiwhatu
23. White heron/kōtuku

As a research resource, I will also be using NZ birds online.

I am very grateful for these resources, and of course, any errors or anatomical innacuracies are entirely mine. 

With the total number of birds being 23, it’s very close to the traditional Christian Advent Calendar format (the ones that start on December 1) of 24 days. The term “advent” is a version of the Latin word meaning “coming”, so the calendars are used as a form of countdown to the Christmas celebrations, and the birth, or advent, of the Christian messiah, Jesus Christ.

We are very much not a religious household, but this recognisable format is a good vehicle for the message that another advent is moving ominously closer – the extinction of many precious species, both here in Aotearoa and all over the world.  
​

​So, what bird should take spot #24? 

• the first bird in the next category, “Nationally Endangered (facing high risk of extinction in the short term)”, the Antipodes Island snipe
• the winner of Bird of the Year 2019

I have been making and selling at markets since 2007, but there’s one word that I don’t use about myself – “artist”. I’ve been thinking about what to write about this for months – and now, I have finally got around to it!

Other people often call me an artist. Generally, I just let it go, because it’s a useful shorthand for what they mean – a person who creates things. When I do correct people, and tell them that I don’t see myself as an “artist”, they can get quite offended, or think that I am being self-deprecating, but that’s not what’s going on.

There are so many different terms and labels for creative people, and so much baggage associated with them, that I personally prefer the term “maker”. That’s why I called my markets (currently on pause) “Wrought Makers’ Markets” – because it feels more inclusive of all the different types of creatives who sell at markets, but also because of what the word means to me.

In my personal lexicon, a maker is someone who sees a need, or a gap, and fills it with something they create. So any kind of problem-solver who creates their solution is a maker; this includes people in customer service, designers, solution architects; people who cook food, propagate plants, come up with innovations, design and 3D-print things…

Makers fall into different categories, in my mind. Here are some of them. 

There are conceptual problem-solvers, people who build their solution out of ideas – think entrepreneurs, inventors, people pushing the boundaries of what we think is possible.

There are everyday makers – people who make things that make our everyday lives better, sometimes without us even noticing. These are the baristas, the supermarket bakers, the home cooks and the burger-flippers, the gardeners and mechanics; the people who keep building better and more efficient technologies, the simple comforts that we take for granted, like having a washing machine that works, or being able to recharge our cellphones. The carpenters, plumbers, and the people who keep the traffic lights working. They are also the practical problem-solvers – for example, when something goes wrong with an experience and the person in charge fixes it for you – think customer service people arranging a replacement for a broken or lost item, or when a restaurant forgot to cook your bacon extra-crispy and you get a free dessert, or when a software support person implements a workaround so that end-users can keep working while the fix gets built.

There are the technical makers – the people who design bridges and car engines, the people behind renewable energy sources, the laser-cutters and the software programmers, the game designers and model aeroplane builders.

And then, there are the artisan makers – people who make the things that machines can make – the unnecessary but wonderful crafts. The wood turners, the potters and ceramicists, the chocolatiers and the pastry chefs, the jewellers and the glass workers, the blacksmiths and the leather-workers, the designers and illustrators. These are the people who make beautiful things that meet a practical need whilst being just perfect on their own – the bread that makes you stop everything to savour its crust, or the wine that deserves to breathe before you sip it while watching the sunset.

I drew a Venn diagram to show that these categories can all overlap, too – for example, you could be an artisan baker, or a technical conceptual maker. 

In my mind, the phrase “art for art’s sake” is what differentiates an artist from a maker. There is, of course, a crossover – cooking the perfect steak is most definitely an art form, as are almost everything that makers make – but if we make a Venn diagram of “maker works” and “artworks”, the things that are “pure” art are the things that have no real, practical purpose. A canvas on a wall, a sculpture, a mural, a framed photograph, a glass bowl designed to hold nothing but light, an installation piece of hanging lightbulbs where no light is required – the only purpose of these pieces is to delight, inspire, engender a reaction, pass on a message, reveal a truth – they are pieces that have a huge aesthetic and emotional purpose, but they are luxuries. 

An artist, therefore, in the purest sense, is someone who creates beauty for its own sake. 

And that’s where I hit a wall. 

Well, when I create, I definitely do it for my own satisfaction – but my satisfaction requires me to solve a problem. 
So in order to justify my drawings, I need them to serve some sort of purpose. Jewellery is a form of self adornment, so it’s in the centre of the artist/maker Venn diagram. So are my fabrics, home decor, scarves, and my craft kits. Practical, but also decorative – artworks by a maker.

So… am I an artist, if my work can be called “art”?

First of all, let’s address the baggage of the word “artist”. There’s all the starving, which I refuse to do, as well as the somewhat pretentious “art, dahling” world, which is not my scene. Yes, I know a good bit about the history of art. No, I don’t need to include visual quotes from the Hellenistic period, or hidden references to the Old Masters in what I create – I might, but that’s to celebrate them, not to separate myself from the ignorant peasants. 

Secondly, I find that “real” art needs a message. I have no interest in giving a meaning, or a message, to my pieces – I draw what I like to look at, in a style that gives me pleasure, for the purpose of creating fabrics, jewellery, embroidery kits, etc – so, no, it’s definitely not art for art’s sake, or for the edification of the viewer. My artwork is not political, even if I regularly play with things that are political. My designs do not require interpretation, even if I sometimes draw things that I find important, such as my a bird a day series, which is about our most threatened bird species.

Art is unconstrained by a need to serve a purpose, whereas my work is designed to do a job. 
So… no, I do not consider myself an artist. Artists and I run on parallel paths, but what I make is designed, end-to-end, to be used, not just to be.
​
So, if my “artwork” is practical, am I a maker?

Yes. Definitely. 
​
I am in the centre of the Venn diagram – and I choose to self-define as a maker, rather than an artist, although I am happy to call my output both “designs” and “artwork”.

I make things for specific purposes. BUT they are also primarily decorative – which is why I call what I make “functional art”. 

To anyone who knows me, it’s clear that fungus is definitely not one of the things I like to find in my meal. It surprises some people, therefore, that some of the things I find the most aesthetically pleasing are things that I hate to eat – the same applies with fish and sea creatures, and insects, which I also do not eat. It’s a correlation, rather than causation, but it’s certainly interesting. 

As many of you know, we are in the immigration waiting line, hoping to move to Portland, Oregon. to get a better idea of the world into which I am moving, I joined a lot of Facebook groups that reflect my interests, and so my feed was briefly absolutely flooded with images of harvests – fruit, vegetables, and foraged treasures such as elderberries and mushrooms. 
In New Zealand, it was the very start of spring, so it felt odd to be researching and drawing things that were absolutely not growing in our garden at the time – I have mentioned in my new designs -so many plants post that many of my designs are inspired by our garden – my meadow design was inspired by the little “frens” that grow under the trees in autumn. 

There seem to be a great many chanterelles and other mushrooms that I recognise from mushroom-gathering in Europe. It was nice to know that I will have a lot of familiar varieties, as well as some that I haven’t seen before. My favourite kind of foraging is to take nothing but photographs, but it’s great to know that some of the subjects will also help feed my husband, who adores fungi but doesn’t often get to have them, because of my aversion.

Most of these photos were supplied to me by that Facebook group of foragers, and I am grateful for all the references!

I worked through a great many resources, and added in a few of my meadow drawings, too. 

Once I had all my drawings done, I matched the colours to one of my existing designs – this is a really important part of my process. I keep my background colours consistent, but I also make sure that the colours I use in my designs reflect the palettes of other designs, too. Here, you can see me matching the colours of the fungi to my recent “boulangerie” design. Those with the grey background are completed.

And once it was complete, it came out really well!

One of my favourite plants in our garden, right from when we first moved in, was this lovely bush by the front drive that had the most gorgeous pink flowers. 

We chose the colours of the other plantings based on that lovely colour, and the colours of some of the trees.

Last time I drew manuka, I drew the white flowers of a different tree. You can read about that here:
manuka.html.

This design was basically just a case of methodically creating a series of branches, then building them together into a bush that would repeat nicely.

I was really excited to get my order of socks from Redbubble, although at first, I was a bit concerned, because the printing looked blurry, and the size of the socks seemed really small – but once the design was stretched out over my foot, which it fit perfectly, it looked much better. I was very relieved!

As you may have noticed, we have a garden absolutely FULL of plants, both native and introduced. 
I grew up in a very plant-focused family, and acquired a great deal of knowledge by osmosis, even thought actual gardening has never really been my scene (mainly because of allergies).
​Our visit to Portland a year ago, and my increasing interest in reducing my impact on the planet by living more sustainably, really re-fired my interest in growing my own food. 
I started by drawing a lot of our thriving herb garden here:

• parsley-sage-rosemary-and-time.html

Given that we are basically up to our necks in springtime gardening, it was impossible not to also feel a non-allergic itch to draw all the things – and so I did!

​In this post, I will take you through some of the big changes we have been making to our garden, and how that inspired me to draw.

Our wisteria for me symbolises our wedding anniversary, so it’s a really important part of our garden to me. 

We were originally going to have our wedding at our place, and we watched and watched the wisteria, because we wanted to have our wedding photos under the arch with the flowers all in bloom. 

We eventually chose a different venue (which fell through at the last minute, aargh!), because access to our house was too complicated, but I still watch the wisteria every year around our anniversary (Labour weekend) and smile.

This year, one of our big garden tasks was to remove the rotten plywood roof on the wisteria arch, to give it more light, make the whole thing look tidier, and then prune the wisteria itself, too. George suddenly decided to just get it done in the late evening, so it was a security-light-and-torch kind of a job.

Some time late, we had more time to finish the clearing of the small pieces of roof, and remove all the dead branches and debris that had built up under the arch roof.

It was a huge accomplishment for me, as my fitness is, shall we say, not great, to get into the garden and start working on projects like this one. This was the first big one that I really was able to contribute to, and it felt awesome.

Our next task was to tie up the remaining branches, so that they would grow up and around the arch, and leave the archway useable – we had been either ducking to get through it, or just walking around it.

I drew this design before the buds even turned to leaves, using photos from a previous year as references.

Shop for wisteria designs online

My mother really likes camellias. I don’t. So I was never terribly thrilled to find that the previous owner had planted camellias all around the house, especially as they were planted a bit close to the wall – but worst of all, haphazardly! We have decided to live with most of them, especially those around the south side of the house, as they don’t get enough sun to make too much trouble, but there was one at the front of the house that was in the worst possible place – right where I wanted to put in my modern, clean arrangement of cordylines. 
We tried to sell it, we tried to give it away – but no one wanted a mature camellia. So we had to either move it, or, horrors, cut it down. I am soft-hearted, and I don’t like to kill anything unless it is causing harm. The camellia was just being there – in the wrong place. 
​So, we decided to move it, and if it survived, all power to it!

George said it was remarkably easy to take it out – we both expected a much bigger root ball. 

It looks much better in its new location, and makes more sense – and bonus, it meant we could have that symmetrical arrangement that we wanted on display when people first arrive!

I was so pleased with the outcome that I decided to celebrate by drawing camellias from around the property.

Camellias are a nice, straightforward structure, and the leaves as simple to draw, too, so it was a nice project.

The hard part was getting the repeat to work – I tried several configurations.

Eventually, I re-did the whole thing, because the layout looked too mechanical.  I think I’m happy now! Click on the images below to shop for camellia fabric on Spoonflower and Redbubble.

We have several large, thriving silver germander bushes in our garden which add pops of colour amongst the green with their lovely purple flowers. I have been trying to focus on drawing natives, but it’s really nice to draw a bush that makes me smile, even if it’s not a native. 
It was on the backburner, though, until I saw this plant at a garden centre, and was able to identify it. Once I had a name, of course, I thought – oh, why not. 

So, I went out for a walk, took lots of photos, and got to work.

This was one of those spur-of-the-moment designs that just flowed straight off the pen – it was really lovely to just sit, draw, and finish. It’s not always like that, believe me.

After spending time building solid designs for all those cooking herbs, I decided to leave this as an open “scatter” design, and also did that with the lavender. 

I have been wanting to draw lavender for quite a few years – it’s just one of those plants that fits nicely with my style. So when we decided to plant some in the garden, I definitely had an ulterior motive – I would also have another subject ready to draw!

I got the lavender pots on special but then, as usual, life got in the way, so it took about a month to get the planters weeded, and get the lavender planted. That was another huge push! We moved the camellia on this same weekend, so it was a big job.

I made sure that the leaves and petals toned with the silver germander, too, although lavender is a more intense purple – so I started with those colours, but made them darker and more saturated.

After spending so much time thinking about this design, it came together really nicely, as did the silver germander that I drew earlier.

At my old flat in Newtown, the tiny patch of lawn was officially mown by the landlord, but I loved that he only came very occasionally. 

As a good son of his father, El Huzbando George takes great pride in keeping his lawns tidy and well-maintained. I, however, absolutely love daisies, buttercups, dandelions, dock leaves… all the things that lawn-lovers generally murder with great prejudice. We compromise – nothing gets murdered without my consent, and we remove all weeds that mar the edges of the lawn, drive, and patio.

This same area of lawn, and the neighboring areas, also inspired my “meadow” design. Knowing how much I love my little toadstool and mushroom “frens”, George mows around them in autumn. 

I definitely spend a lot of time walking around and taking photos at our place!

I reworked the daisies and the grass from my original meadow design to make a better repeat, with the knowledge I have gained since. I think they are really lovely.

​There are lots of other posts about all the plants I have been drawing recently, too:

• native-trees.html
• pohutukawa.html
• succulents.html
• kowhai.html​
• manuka-bush.html

And more to come!