First shinrinyoku of 2019!

Spring definitely seems to be here! Lately, I have seen so many beautiful trees in full bloom - magnolias, cherry blossom, apple blossom - and the days are getting brighter and longer. Sunday was a perfect day to go for some much-needed shinrinyoku, that is, forest bathing.

Not far from my home is the lovely village of Enniskerry, where one of my favourite outdoor places, Knocksink Woods, is located. It is a wood divided by the Glencullen River's quick flow. This reminds me of Taylor Creek in Toronto (where I grew up); it is the kind of "river" where the bottom can easily be seen and one can get to the other side by getting your feet a little wet or stepping on stones. Knocksink Woods does have several sturdy bridges though, so there is no problem exploring either bank without wet feet. And a game of Pooh Sticks is de rigeur for every bridge.

The sun was shining quite a bit. I didn't bring my sketchbook with me, but I love all the spindly trees.

And spindly branches and gnarly trees.

To my surprise the wild garlic ground cover in shady areas was coming up healthily! Though I didn't expect to see it, I had brought a collecting bag and picked enough leaves to make some wild garlic pesto to go with dinner. There were even flower buds; I will return next week (weather permitting) to do a bigger forage and make batches of pesto for the freezer too. I make wild garlic pesto every year and a full recipe with pictures can be found on a previous post, here.

More tree tangles!

On the glen path back to the road I loved seeing the trees tilt down the slope

with shadows undulating on the uneven ground of the hill.

Sticks - accordion book

I conceived of "Sticks" as a simple accordion book for a single, long format intaglio print with ceramic covers. The print is a horizontal image of sticks based on some sketches I had done of wood debris floating in the Glencullen River in Knocksink Wood.

I had created a unique protype, "Shinrinyoku", of this image as an accordion book in June. I made the prototype to figure out how an accordion book could work, using handmade paper for the drawing and for the covers.

Because I wanted the front cover of the "Sticks" book to have some relationship to the future intaglio print, I created a bark stamp that could be pressed into the clay slabs that would be my book's front covers

The stamp itself was simply made from some scrap wood and the bark affixed to the front of the stamp with pva glue.

Although I coated the entire stamp to seal it, when using it on the clay it worked better to have a layer of cling film (Saran wrap) between the stamp and the clay slab. For the back covers, I simply used a rubber stamp kit to press my name in the clay slabs.

I was doing an edition of ten books, so needed 10 final intaglio prints of the image. I have detailed how I converted a pasta machine into a flatbed press in a previous blog (here). The small prints created using this press are only limited in size in one direction (in this case the length is shorter than the width). The prints are on Khadi 100% acid free handmade Indian rag paper.

When the prints were ready I did a general layout of how I would like the completely open book to appear, with both the front and back covers visible. This would give me an idea of how to fold the book.

Or rather, giving my trusty assistant the idea of how to make the folds (I fully recognise that my husband tends to measure more accurately than I!).

The prints were affixed to the background of Fabriano with pva, along the top only, prior to making the folds.

Components ready to be turned into books!

A view of the back of the accordion book.

A view of the front of "Sticks".

Self-portraits

Last Saturday, May 20 2017, was National Drawing Day. I had been planning to do some plein air sketching in Knocksink Woods but there were a few downpours and I also had a birthday cake to make, so the kibosh was put on outdoor drawing. However, while doing my morning ablutions, I was enamoured by some of my curls and decided to do a quick self-portrait before brushing my hair. This is the result:

I have been thinking of doing a regular bout of self-portraits, but just haven't been motivated to start! For a brief period before my daughter was born (15 years ago!) I tried doing a daily self-portrait, but once I became pregnant, my drawing regimen lapsed. But at the beginning of that attempt I think I look a bit tentative about the project of self-portraits in a brand new sketchbook. This charcoal pencil sketch from August 9 2001 has holes speckled on the face because I later used the closed sketchbook as a semi-hard surface when I was piercing holes for bookbinding!

The pencil sketch on August 10 2001 also has numerous holes in it. It took me awhile to figure out what the things were in front of the mirror, then I remembered I was in a different house at the time, the mirror was above the fireplace and they were objects on the mantlepiece.

This pencil sketch is from August 13 2001, and again, because it is at the start of the sketchbook has holes in it. It must have been a warm day because my hair is tied back.

On August 14 2001 I was outside with a mini mirror on the window ledge, and obviously more interested in the fuschia.

On August 15 2001 I was interested in a continuous line, which stylised the drawing.

I remember this taupe t-shirt from Canada with the stylised deer, under one of my favourite items of clothing at the time - a denim shift dress. This pencil drawing is from August 16 2001.

A week later, August 20 2001, I was wearing my denim dress again. I loved my blue fish earrings, a gift from one of my Canadian friends. I lost one, but still have the other.

In this sketch from August 22 2001 I was trying to include a bit more of the room. The image behind me is a sketch of an oil painting of tulips that I had done in 1980. One of my earliest works that is still in existence!

This sketch is also from August 22. I know I was outside with the mini mirror because my glasses have gone dark.

This pencil sketch is from September 19 2001. I was starting not to feel well, but I didn't realise yet that I was pregnant.

By time I did this pencil sketch on October 27 2001, I had let all my family and friends know that I was having a baby. Later I was so grateful that my morning sickness only lasted for the first trimester -- one of my aunts had told me she had morning sickness for 9 months with each of her 5 children... I was never actually sick, but constant nausea all day prevented me from eating anything other than porridge and dried apricots. I remember it well.

On May 14 2002 (a week before my daughter was born) I commented on feeling Yoda-like while I tried to draw!

Knocksink Woods - sketches

We have had some gorgeous weather over the past few weeks and, as I mentioned in previous posts, I have had the opportunity to enjoy some shinrinyoku in the nearby Knocksink Woods of Enniskerry. As well as foraging for wild garlic to make pesto, I have also been taking the chance to do some research for a project that I am at the early stages of.

I am excited to be going to a one day printmaking workshop at The Print Museum, Dublin this Sunday and in preparation I wanted some sketches of stick forms.

I am not sure if prints created at this workshop will make their way into my final project, but at very least they will be additional research.

 The project involves making books (these sketches are in one of my handmade sketchbooks), prints, and some natural elements like sticks and stones.

These pencil sketches are true to the stick forms that they represent, but by focusing only on the sticks, leaving out their surrounding environment, they have become very abstract.

Knocksink woods

The springtime weather is really becoming obvious over the past few weeks. Of course there are some glitches in the form of storms, wind and hail, but the longer days, flowers blooming, trees in bud and quite a few warm days give that great sense of renewal.

With decent weather, and despite the feet still bothering me (almost a year of plantar fascitis!) it was well beyond time for me to partake in some shinrinyoku (forest bathing for relaxation). A short drive inland leads to the lovely Enniskerry and Knocksink woods.

The sun was shining, the sky was blue and the ground cover of wild garlic was becoming apparent. We picked some young leaves (of which there was an abundance!), picked up some crusty bread on the way home and it was simple to whip up a batch of wild garlic pesto (recipe posted previously) and have an almost summery lunch of bruschetta. A perfect day!

Wild Garlic Pesto

We thought it is normally not out till May, but my husband thought he saw some wild garlic by a roadside a few weeks ago, so this afternoon he and our daughter went for some shinrinyoku in Knocksink Woods in Enniskerry (unfortunately I am having foot problems so had to skip going for a walk). Sure enough, the forest floor has started greening with it. Lots of buds, so their season is at the beginnings.

Regardless, there were plenty of flowers, and all parts of this wild garlic plant are edible. The flowers are a sweet and subtle garlic, the stems and leaves are like a garlicky chive. The leaves would be a bit fibrous to eat on their own I think, but processed in a pesto they are absolutely fine.

I grated the parmesan and set aside, then looked in my cupboard for the nuts. I used brazil nuts and some pre-shelled unsalted pistacchios that I had. Normally I use unsalted cashews, but have also used walnuts in a pinch (a bit of a stronger, woodier flavour) and of course, the classic pine nuts. Whatever nuts are used should be unsalted so that the final flavour is not falsified.

After a quick rinse of the wild garlic, bend the leaves and stems to fit in the processor.

Add some grated parmesan and olive oil.

Whizz of course, adding more ingredients (depending on the size of your processsor).

Consistency of the finished pesto is entirely by preference. Amount of ingredients is entirely to one's own taste (i.e. -- if you love cheese, add more! if you want it to be really green, add more leaves, etc).