Ali George Artist

It is hard to imagine this space in another month or two - the main studio and office area placed opposite the laundry and powder room. The bare bones of a new space. Currently playing with the zones - a place to work / office and life administration, a cutting station, a sewing area that will fit my Bernina workhorses and overlocker. Equally important, a space and place for reflection, reading and rest. There is a single, large window from which the WMBM will create an oasis in the outside recess - meeting the needs of viewing pleasure while maximising natural light. The laundry has a special linen cupboard designed for bolts of PFD fabric and storage of bulky items. Back in the room, I'm thinking a wall of storage and more bench space and finally, the best position for a portable design wall.  There is no rush and I'm happy to wait and see how best to respond to this new environment. The space will let me know what to do.  

Closed. Sliders. The big reveal? Opportunity. Imagination. Fresh start. Protected. Permission. Sanctuary. This will become the place where I can be, uninterrupted. What does that look like? I imagine a space where 25 hours a week of study and 40 hours a week in paid employment give way to a different statistic. Visioning. Being. Unsuppressed excitement at the possibilities. I no longer see concrete and bare hanging doors. Through these doors I see art. An artful life.  

  Priority #1: Be creative. For me, fabric selection, cutting and reassembling the pieces all contribute to the backstory of an art quilt.  Precision piecing harks back to traditional skills - perfect points can also be used to tell part of the story. I'm trying a few different arrangements using my hand dyed indigo blue paired with white, commercially produced fabric. On their own they do make a gorgeous quilt top - but hardly art. I've been researching the impact of climate change on migration patterns and particularly migratory birds. Exploring things like how temperature changes impact the environment, the winds, storms and the signals that trigger annual migration. I've changed direction with the traditional flying geese block  - not quite confused and not quite lost, but certainly no clear direction. I've added some visual pop with the things that don't quite belong - the russet / warm flying geese sections joining the flock. 

Ballina in the evening, watching the sun set and the Richmond River recede. Returning from a day trip to Chatsworth Island along the Clarence River, then stopping off at Evans Head to see the Evans River, it was a rare delight to be alone with a cool refreshment watching the rhythm and pattern of the river.  I'm searching for details of splits and cracks, finding the spaces between boards where lived experiences collect undisturbed and unseen. Seeking out the patterns of negative space and translating those to fabric.  A distant shoreline and river bank, the wharf, a beacon, a sculpture, the bridges that connect them all. The lines and curves that make sense of a place are then made into cloth.

  Long before there were frames and sprayed concrete outlines, the design of the indoor studio was months in the thinking and planning. Located in the upper section of the house, the sliding doors save valuable space by disappearing into the wall cavity. They are a neat way of moving between open and inviting and the need for quiet concentration.  On the right hand side the wall is reinforced and soundproofed from the activities area and guest rooms. An almost full length recessed space will be used for shelving and storage of textile and art supplies. Extra sound proofing and insulation. The sewing station will be located nearby.  The large window, behind camera, faces onto a small courtyard to be filled with potted plants and greenery. That's where the office desk / study will face. A couple of lounge chairs will be just inside the entrance, ready for relaxed reading or a snooze. I'm thinking of dividing the sections using  Kallax units. I measured and cut out the furniture s

  Scaling up an image of the Brisbane River to develop the substrate for a new art quilt. Each square needs to be 6cm x 6cm to make a finished size of 5 cm square.  I created a "to scale" model of the finished quilt on drafting paper. I printed an image of the river (attribution below) and then scaled it up to get a fairly accurate flow across the quilt.  The substrate rightly tells the background story. It is the foundation on which the main elements or features reside. So it isn't the "hero" of the piece - it needs to be recognised and visible without overwhelming the piece.   I can now easily identify which squares hold a section of the river and start to experiment on piecing, applique, fusing, printing, and painting to learn which gives the best outcome for the substrate.  (Brisbane River original image: Magpie Shooter; edited version Paulguard at en.wikipedia https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/indix.php?curid=9724127) My foundation piece might well end up bei

  I've been limited for studio supplies and space for about two years,  confined to a 16-square Kallax and a sewing table. (OK, full disclosure, there are a couple of bolts of PFD fabric in a back room I have accessed for dyeing). Two boxes contain finished quilts tops in need of quilting, there are protein and plant based fabrics ready to dye, hand dyed and printed lengths, my mark making equipment and a box of office supplies. The open shelves contain the things that make me smile (top row) and the resources that inspire me like books, journals and sewing supplies (second row).  The restrictions have been in terms of available space, resources and time. I'm confined to 4 metres x5 metres after having access to a large, outdoor barn/studio and an internal sewing room/spare bedroom.  When we moved from Tarome we had pared down our belongings to such an extent that more than half the remaining cartons were filled with art and studio supplies.  There are about 25 packing boxes o