north

White Lepiota



We are walking together,
the alder and the oak.

Carrying
a desert of lapwings
under our coats.

Back to the beginning,
back to the seabirds and foam.
The bull slides across the pitch ocean floor 

All the names are gone
White lepiota grows

our mossy hearts - the grind of planets -
songs of tallow and bone.

One foot in the water
- two far travelers -
Setting fires along the road.


- Marianne Dages, 2013














Iceland: Part Eight

 This morning, I had a visitors, artists in the residency the next town over. We had breakfast at the bakery. Bego Anton, a photographer from Spain, had been following me on Tumblr, and saw familiar looking mountains...two people from across the world in the same small place.

Drowsy evening, drinking cold coffee, trying to follow intuitions and make clear decisions, simpler, simpler, make it more simple.













Iceland: Part 6

Afternoon walk today, the wind picked up and made my ears hurt. It's now whistling all around, the clouds are moving unbelievably fast. Looking, listening, picking up things. Painting bones. Making little scratches. Happy. 

 :: treasure! I hid it and am coming back for it ::

 :: "orange peel fungus," or Aleuria aurantia ::
 
:: tangled threads and nets ::

 :: seaweed ::

 :: collecting ::

:: little messages ::

Iceland: Part 4

:: Herhusid house ::

Today was bright and clear. Working on a big drawing, and little silverpoint drawings. Drawing shapes I am drawn to, that hold significance and memory for me. Fish scales, nets, animal heads, bows, pyramids, and bones. Old shapes. Thinking about the sea. Feeling a little under the weather, but went for a walk to my favorite place, the beach behind the industrial buildings, and the dump, where the waves break.

"On the sea, sea, sea, where the gods sit."


:: favorite place ::




Iceland: Part 3

It is snowing today, when I woke up the mountains were clouded in white. Yesterday, I started making little studies in silverpoint, pencil, and gouache. Grass, coastlines, mountain shapes, muted colors, layers of white. Today, I started a large drawing on the wall. This evening, I sat around a table with the director of the residency and others and I listened to and sang along to Icelandic folk songs. It was amazing.

 :: snowy mountain ::

 :: the studio ::

 :: the studio, with big paper on the wall ::

:: little study, silverpoint, graphite, and gouache ::


:: little studies ::

Iceland Part 2

First impressions of this island. There is so much texture, everywhere, I don't know if it's the air but there's a clarity and detail in the landscape that is overwhelming. The air smells like salt and earth. It's a beautiful smell that is something forgotten. The feeling of something forgotten. Monolithic shapes, black against white. White bone, white snow, black and white birds, black rocks, black bread. The grass that leans against itself, like sleeping heads. 








Iceland Part 1

I am spending a month in as an artist in residence at Herhúsið in the town of Siglufjörður on the Northern coast of Iceland. I've been fascinated by the North for a long time. I've never traveled to a foreign country alone, and now after 24 hours of planes, buses, and taxis, I feel like I am at the edge of the world. It's beautiful and strange and interesting, and my plan is to write and draw and take pictures, and share that with you on this blog and when I get home, hopefully make some sense of it all.

Today, I found a red hair on my head. I can only imagine this is an auspicious sign of things to come...







Stem and Stave

Wave runes shall you make
If you desire to ward
Your sail-steeds on the sound.
On the stem shall they be cut
And on the steering blade
And burn them on the oar.
No broad breaker will fall
Nor waves of blue,
And you will come safe from the sea,

- from the Saga of Volsungs

 :: Stem and Stave, Marianne Dages, 2013, letterpress print, polymer and type ::

:: detail ::
 :: detail ::

Collecting, Preparing...

This last week, I started preparing for my trip to Iceland in October. I didn't know where to start so I started with the practical things, what to bring, what to pack. I learned a few interesting things, that I should bring my own cold medicine, it's difficult to find, and that a bathing suit is a must, because in the words of a blogger, "swimming is socializing" in Iceland. 

When I was looking up the town of Siglufjordur, I found a lovely picture of the Herhusid house where I'll be staying, from the website of a previous resident, Julia Lohmann. She even had pictures of an incredible haul of mushrooms! It's like destiny.

:: The Herhusid House, which will be my home in October ::
:: another view, in the show from resident and poet, Mark Wunderlich ::

Siglufjordur is in the Northwest part of the island, the country's northernmost town in fact. It is 40 km from the Arctic circle and is home to about 1300 people. The town has a great deal of history connected to the herring industry, it was only connected by road to the rest of the island in 1940. 

:: Siglufjordur, the town where I'll be staying ::

I am in awe of the landscape already.

:: Wren feathers, ceramic, and shell ::

As my departure comes closer, I'm thinking more and more about what I will be creating. I don't know for sure what it will look like, but I do know I want to observe and collect, think and write, and I'm very much looking forward to it.

Above and Below

It's June already! I've been working on some new letterpress prints, including this one titled, Above and Below. This is a continuation of the Small Fires series, an ongoing body of work that explores pictographic images as modes of communication. These prints are all handset with wood and metal type and printed on a Vandercook No. 4 Proof Press.
 
:: setting the type for Above and Below ::

:: detail :: 

 :: detail ::

:: Above and Below, 2013, 14.5" x 22", letterpress on cotton paper ::