Friday, March 6, 2015

Mappreciation...the Map Book finished.

Here it is then, the final part of the Map Book.  Be patient, there are a lot of images here so it might take a while to load.  When I look at these images now, it dawns on me how much work there was in the book, but while I was immersed in it, it was rather as if each page I worked on was the ONLY page that existed, while I was working on it, and when finished it was just added to the pile to be stitched together, just another piece of paper.  I'll add a few brief comments and some relevant links, but again, I want to let the pages tell their own story without me over explaining everything.

Here first is my grandfather's story.  His service papers, his photos, his cheeky postcards back to his mum and step-dad, hiding darker moments behind humour.  Photos of a life lived beyond the war that left its terrible mark on him, and the lyrics to the song I wrote for him.

I asked my munchkins to look out for any old maps on a trip with their dad to the Tip Shop, and they came home with a 2012 French map book.  But on the second or third page, I found this.  It seemed like it was meant to be.

Two beautiful quotes.  You can read more of Sharon Blackie's wonderful writing on nature here, and watch the video made by John Boorman here (as well as some further meditations on belonging, written before I moved to this beautiful place, in which I mention Greens Pool.  Which is where these photos were taken, and is now a 5 minute drive away instead of a 5 hour drive).

Too much writing, too much research, too many details...always my downfall.

This is a reworking of ideas I wrote about back in 2012.  If you're REALLY keen to know what I'm wittering on about, and can't read it in these pics, you can find the post here.

This little book can be opened and read here, and the song can be listened to here.

'The Tempest' page.  The ideas here go back many years, to a short play I wrote at uni.  Wow, it's almost 20 years, now that I think about it, that they've been rattling around in my brain.

More of the 'too much detail' affliction...I clearly don't have a life!

Perhaps this might need to be explained a little.  How might Caliban, who is not a monster in my universe, depict his beloved home?

Reuse, remake, re-vision.  Yes, she probably looks familiar.  This book is full of old things refound and remade.

Her story, and mine, is here, if you wish to know it.

One of my most favouritetist (yes, I know it's not a word but I don't care) poems of all.

Of course, there were supposed to be MORE maps, and I so wanted to make a pop-up boat flying across a star map, but alas, as I mentioned IN the book, I could not find a time map that would take me backwards so that I would be able to complete all these ideas.  Story of my life really!

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