I've been looking at the forms and shapes in old geological maps. I love the undulating lines and shapes, merging of colours and how fine lines and details pull out forms.
It also makes me think about why maps are created and at what point do science and art intersect when making these maps? There's something aesthetically beautiful about them, despite having a functional purpose.
Some experiments I've been doing, having a go with some different colours.
Seeing ways in which fragmented images can be aligned or arranged together helps me build a picture (literally).
Leaving a gap between them, but creating a through line that is severed, yet connected.
Using an accidental 'blot' to pull out the form of two figures. They look as if they are beginning, on or looking back on a journey. I really like the muted pink colour (very reminiscent of the old geological map colours).
January 2024
Beginning some more work looking at the visual form of geological maps. I like how the lines are simple and meandering- just like a walk. I also like the thematic connection with 'what's held beneath' and how I can communicate this concept via these marks.
Questioning how layering could work with these drawings. Whether a larger version of these could exist as a 'base layer' to subsequent layers (paint, mono print, photo transfers), building up different imagery. Conscious where the balance lies in terms of . I don't want it to be too busy, especially if multiple fragments of these pieces exist in collection.
Next, I want to try a much larger scale of these, connecting once again with that meditative notion of drawing, moving the body more and losing thought. These observations from real maps have given me a good feel for what they actually look like and I can hopefully now transfer this more independently to a larger piece of paper.
Jan 25th:
I got in touch with the British Geological Society to get hold of the right map for the area of Barton burial ground.
I traced areas of the map, with a view to using some carbon paper to print it onto other surfaces. I would also like to try some large scale renderings of the lines/forms. Whether I do this via some form of printing method or free hand drawing I don't know. I do feel like the hand drawn feel generates a feeling of 'presence' when making the drawing. I guess it all links back with the connection to materiality that is central to how I want to work, and how the act of drawing is meditative and ritualistic.
Feb 12th 2024:
Some more experiments using the undulations of geological maps, in particular the Barton one above but also one that has this lovely pattern of concentric circles, which I find chimes well visually with the work I've been doing on circles and their meaning.
As I continue to test ideas idea for continued fragments, using photos and different papers/surface (see post on this more specifically here), I wanted to keep pushing at ways to find interesting mark making methods that are partly 'automatic' but also link more literally with a place.
I've been trying out this amazing Chinese rice paper. It's very delicate and not hugely absorbent, but it allows ink and watercolour to bleed across it so magically. I enjoy the alchemy of how these materials work together and it always brings me back to how the materiality of how I work is so central to the ideas unfolding.
I discovered that the imprint left behind by the rice paper creates it own piece in itself. Here, the ink bled through onto the watercolour paper below and I only realised when I lifted the rice paper up. I wanted to work with these marks to build something into it. I also thought what a great activity it would be for children, so am going to try this at home with my daughter.
I did a trace mono type print of this geological formation over the top of the imprint. I like how some of the lines fade out as if falling into a bit of an abyss. it reminds me of how some memories do this - how they can have an anchor in something, but that they can become disconnected and not lead to anywhere that feels real.
I added the geological lines from the Barton map over the top before printing a single figure of my daughter within the lines. I left myself out of this one as I'm looking at different ways to compose the figures on the page at the moment. There's something quite melancholy about the image I think and the lines from Barton appear to arch over the figure. Containing or trapping? I'm not sure.
