Last week’s blog gave you a hint at what days are like, these days, where we are cleaning the plate and hassling with the logistics which must be sorted out before we go on holidays. This busyness could lead to the image of us sinking down in absolute tranquillity when we eventually arrive at the holiday destination - relaxing with the conscience of an angel knowing that we ticked off all marks before leaving home.

Well, it is not exactly so. Why not? It is not so because we use our holidays for another kind of preparation - the preparation for the works we are going to start after the vacation. It is a very important part of our artistic life - that of going away from home and its everyday circles and obligations - having as only objectives to collect inspiration and discuss approaches for our next projects and quilt related activities.

One of our holiday destinations is especially suited for these activities, the reason for us returning again and again. It also is well suited for small meetings and social get-togethers, the reason why we for some time planned to meet a quilting colleague there during one of our stays. The place is not far from her Danish home town so it would be the ideal place to relax and discuss with her, and we had indeed been looking forward to making it happen.

But something came between us and our plans.

It was resident or Fort Myers, Florida Dr. Joan Frantz with whom we had worked out plans for such a meeting - and that something which came between us was illness. Joan is no longer with us and we will never have that meeting in Denmark. We will also never again have our good long talks after hours in Houston, where we met.

Our first encounter was at the awards ceremony at the 2005 Quilt Festival where she quietly approached us from behind and congratulated us in Danish with “River of Life” - the piece with the swan family. A little surprised we turned around and saw a cheerful ginger with lively eyes, who presented herself as Joan. Through the acquaintance with her we learned that she had great depths of good mood, which seemed to work very well with her determined mind when it came to her professional life as certified optometric physician or her artistic life as a quilter.

Now, it was in her artistic life that we knew Joan. We will not forget the discussions we had with her regarding her continued strive for evolving her ways of artistic expression. We really looked forward to seeing this materialize through her future creations. Unfortunately, this evolution came to a definitive halt, so we have to extrapolate in our minds from those of her works that we have seen.

Coming to think about it, this not bad at all. Why? Well, because amidst the sadness of the loss of a good friend and colleague in the arts, we have this possibility - the possibility to think her artistic production further. It gives a good feeling and reminds us about the special thing about quilters: They leave a legacy for those of us who are still around and for those who are to come.

We feel inclined to conclude these few commemorative by saying: “Æret være Joans Minde!” which in English would read something like: “Honoured be the Memory of Joan!”

There is this about the summer holidays. Although there are other periods of vacation scattered over the calendar year it appears that the summer holidays sing out as a marker, more significant than the other periods. Why that is so I do not know for sure. Perhaps it promises the most relaxed and informal period of the year, often in places away from home which can be very inspiring and beautiful - and that is exactly what we are looking forward to.

So, yes, as last year, these days I’m looking forward to this year’s summer break. It is still some weeks away and you might wonder if I’m following the psychologists’ advice of gearing down slowly as a preparation for the perfect vacation, so that I can really tap into the multitude of inspirational sources I know is out there in the places, where Inge and I will spend it.

The answer is that I’m not gearing down slowly. We’re as busy as ever. And it is not only because the exhibition at the MAQS requires that the works being selected these days need to get prepared and shipped in due time for the opening on August 16 - and it is not only because we also have a couple of other works that need preparation and shipment to their respective exhibitions in the coming days.

It is because we are busy cleaning the plate, if I could put it that way. Procrastination on my part has left a project on the wall for too long, and experience tells us that it is not good to come back from vacation, fully loaded with ideas and inspiration and ready to set off on new artistic adventures - just to be greeted upon return by an unfinished piece of work shouting for attention. It has the effect of a needle in a balloon.

So, our studio is full of activities. Brushes are being washed, colours mixed, and the piece on the wall is gradually getting ready - in other words, the procrastinator is being kept to his obligations.

2 x 1280 grammes of fine art were what we picked up at the post office yesterday.

You are wrong if you now imagine me walking around in our apartment with nails between the lips and a hammer in the hip pocket busy searching for a free space on the walls where I can place two paintings or framed silver gelatine photographs.

What we picked up at the post office were 2 copies of a book recently issued by the US publisher Lark Books. When held in the hands while examining the interestingly designed cover page and reading the title of the book “Masters - Art Quilts” its physical dimensions (72 cubic inches) and weight inevitably add to the expectations that we’re here talking about art of a certain calibre.

This first impression was of course very pleasing for us, since we are amongst the contributing artists, whom the book presents as “Fourty of the leading international artists working today”. However, the title was also somewhat pretentious so it cannot wonder that the thought surfaced as to whether the content of the book would meet the ambitions of Lark Books and the author/curator Martha Sielman.

A look inside was the next logical step, and as I usually do when introducing myself to a new book I thumb-browsed it backwards - and it was interesting what I  saw. The disposition of the space dedicated to presenting the artists’ individual groups of works, citations and associated text by the author made the book as a whole appear very inviting to discover.

Now, whether a book presenting about a dozen works of each of the 40 artists (or couple of artists in our case) is meant to be read serially from the beginning to the end, the author and publisher will know better than me, since their ideas and ambitions have been the driving forces behind this milestone of a book. The answer isn’t important to me, really. What is more interesting is that the selection of artists provides for diversity in ways and means of artistic expression and the layout of the book invites the reader to getting acquainted with the artists in an individual meandering and explorative way.

And this is good. It is good because it allows the individuality of the reader to harmonize with the individuality of the artists at his/her own pace. It is good because with this book it is ok to jump impulsively back and forth, take in a series of artists, jump again to do comparisons or to revisit points that caught interest.

Above I referred to the book as a milestone. It was done in the sense that the book represents a broad view of where the concept of Quilt Art is today and how it got there over the last decade. A mile down the road there will be another stone and the view will be different. But it would be fair to say that the book is very representational of our corner of the art world as I know it today.

It should be a good thing to own, this book. If you do not already have it, then you can purchase it at Studio Art Quilt Associates (SAQA), amazon or in book stores. When you get it, check out the pages 330-339, and see if you agree that here are “major works by leading artists” as the cover states. We are of course flattered by being referred to as such, but as we always say, when a piece of artwork has left our studio, our opinions about it do no longer count - it will be in the hands of the viewers.

I’m sitting on the banks of the river Tarn in Southern France. It is a sunny Saturday afternoon and the sky above is cobalt blue, the river is this olive green grey that rivers have and the breeze is just right so it cools here in the shadow under the trees and adds life to the river by rippling its surface.

Now that the girl who served tea and these delicious small crisp almond cookies has disappeared into the shadows of the house there are only us, Inge, myself and the birds and the wind in the trees and the lazy flow of the river to add life to the scene.

Indeed a very tranquil scene.

When checking out of the city this morning we had as an option for the day to check in early and then drive around in this historic region, which we do not know very well - actually our knowledge is limited to a few brief transits - and then return to the hotel towards the evening.

But then this thing happened! We arrived at the hotel before noon and got this feeling instantly that here we could stay for a week. And why hang around in a car for most of the day when we could integrate ourselves in this setting - be part of the deep shadows under the trees and watch the river and the time flow by at a lazy pace?

These deep shadows that summer brings to the French countryside from late morning well into the afternoon are magnificent. They contribute to sculpturing the landscape in a solid way which works so well with the countryside and underpins the feeling of being in places with traditions and lifestyles rooted deeply back in time - be they ever so simple or be they spots with historic highlights dating back to medieval times as here in the department of Tarn.

Inge and I are now two dots in this river-scape, hard to spot, because we are well integrated in the deep shadows that model the scene. And what has all that to do with art? Well, if not for anything else it has something essential to do with the concept of art de vivre.

Sitting on the plane from Manchester I reflected a little on the week I’d just spent with Roland walking in the Pennines.

Although the daily walks could be long and sometimes arduous the week seems to have passed very quickly indeed. This is kind of a contrasting opposite: days passing slowly vs. the week passing quickly. As I sat there with my thoughts meandering in the experiences I’d had on the walk, it appeared to me that this was not the only case of contrasts.

There were other cases, like the following ones:

The joy of meeting Roland again and looking forward to walking with him for a handful of days - contrasted by the touch of sadness when saying goodbye.

The overwhelming beauty presented by nature in both its prime and mature states - contrasted by the little I could do with all that beauty. I could basically only try to take it in as we passed by phenomenally beautiful road- and riversides, or being presented with stunning vistas from hilltops.

The fauna and landscapes pressing on their effects of “zen” - contrasted by the latency of my mind to absorb it all and let it take precedence in my lines of thought.

A seemingly desolate and run down place for accommodation - contrasted by the nice evening meal it provided for, a beer on the bedside and a good nights sleep.

The multitude of photo ops inviting to stay in a place a little longer - contrasted by the necessity to press on to make the end of the day’s walk.

Asking Roland: “What made us do this?” when being absolutely exhausted on a steep slope - contrasted by the brief moments of satisfaction for every hilltop passed and the great satisfaction at day’s end.

The mounting fatigue as the final day lingered on - contrasted by the surprising amount of resources we could mobilize at the end of that day to take on the challenge of the more difficult high route.

And now back in Paris the whole period in the Pennines with all its zen and beauty and calmness and distances stands in sharp contrast to my everyday life. But if contrast is important in a piece of artwork why shouldn’t it be important in life itself?

Our participation in a closed dinner party on a Parisian river boat Friday evening gave reason to a very interesting reflection. Not on the food or the wines or the live music or the river boat traffic on the River Seine or how the appearance of the Eiffel Tower changed as the day turned into night. So what was it then?

It was the sculptural embellishment of the bridge Pont Neuf. When approaching the bridge we noted the series of carved faces or masks - mascarons - that run all along the bridge on both sides. There were hundreds of them and we noted that although they were of the same size, they were all unique in facial traits and consequently not being made according to the same and only model.

It was just like our party with participants originating from several European countries. Their faces were also all wonderfully individual and rich in features and characteristics. It appears that irrespective of how many people are gathered in one place, individuality will always prevail.

Having just updated our lecture “About Us & People in Our Quilts” we can only nod in recognition to that. In view of the luncheon lecture we will be giving at the Quilt Market & Festival in Houston on Monday 27^th of October the update includes additional recent works which we believe will add further interest to the content.

It is all about people and faces - and who knows, perhaps some of them may have similarities with mascarons.

In recent weeks we have been filling in application forms for juried exhibitions in different places around the world. From our portfolio of available and eligible works we thoroughly assessed where which would fit best - as we always do. And again we experienced a little frustration and a dilemma. Now, why is that?

Well, one exhibition identifies 2 primary groups each with a range of categories into which the works have to land, according to their features. So our works land in the overall group “Art”, which is ok. But then frustrations set in, because of the way we implement our works. Our works are implemented as a combination of painting and quilting where the artistic expression is obtained through the interaction between paint and thread within the overall composition of the work.

If accepted our works will in the exhibition we are referring to by definition be exhibited in the category “Art - Painted Surface”.

Fair enough, you may think. But hearing that the same exhibition also will include the following categories: “Art - People, Portraits and Figures”, “Art - Naturscapes”, “Art - Abstract” and “Art - Pictorial” you may find cause to reflect a little on the “Art - Painted Surface” category and how this in all likelihood will cannibalize the other sub-categories and end up as an incoherent mix of works.

Well, we have learned to live with it, but we nevertheless feel pity on the curators and in particular the viewers. It must be frustrating for the curators of the other categories if “Art - Painted Surface” include portraits which would contribute formidably to the category “Art - People, Portraits and Figures”, or if it included lovely land or seascapes which would complement the other works in the category “Art - Naturscapes”.

The visitors to the exhibition are likely to be puzzled about the “Art - Painted Surface” category. Where the other categories appeared coherent in motifs the visitors will here find themselves in a section of the overall exhibition that from a motif point of view is absolutely incoherent. They will likely experience a mix of motifs representing People, Portraits and Figures, Naturscapes, Abstract and Pictorial - all motifs they have seen in the other categories. The only common denominator here will be the fundamentals on how the works technically have been implemented.

Anyways, we learned to live with this, but it nevertheless does not seem to be an optimal utilisation of the works that land in the “Art - Painted Surface” category and leads inevitably to reflections on whether that category should not be discontinued.

The funny thing is that the two works we intend to propose could without any problems fall in 3 of the other categories - were it not for the criterion “painted surface”.

The dilemma we experienced related to another exhibition in a different part of the world. Here the categories were defined by their titles only and the work we intend to propose would fit right into 3 of them: “Contemporary Quilts”, “Pictorial/Memory/Message Quilts” and “Machine quilts”. Which one to choose?

We connected our reflections on this dilemma with the reflections on the frustration about the abovementioned technically based category and moved our thoughts forward to somewhat that almost takes the shape of an introductory lecture for a debate on exactly these issues. We believe over the years to have accumulated some very thought provoking opinions and questions to throw into this debate.

Inge and I should have been bubbling over with inspiration and be filled with tons of ideas for new artworks featuring traits of the Norwegian coast-scapes blended delicately with our culinary experiences and the light of the long days they already have up there.

Now, y’all know that a strike came as a stick in the wheel. What you may not know is that we tried to arrange for a trip to Auvergne instead, and had finally overcome the problems that late bookings including weekends entail - when the weather set the following menu for the days we had envisaged to travel in: rain, thunder storms, thunder storms and rain, respectively.

You may think that the two events described above are the reasons why I did not publish anything during the weekend. You may think that I’m mentally grounded. Of course I’m not. There’s a silver lining to every cloud. There is just the little detail that I do not know when that silver lining comes in sight.

But, there is another wording saying that “When you believe it, you’ll see it”. Just now, I think I will apply that saying to the coming walk with Roland on the Pennine Way and recall the words that came to mind upon return from our walk last year on the West Highland Way, in particular decoupling - reflection - distance.

I will look forward to that walk with Roland knowing that it will reset my mind and fill me with inspiration, step by step. We will be walking around 30 km every day for 4 days and the last day more than 40 km, so I have all good reasons to believe that my inspirational batteries will be fully charged when I land in Paris and synchronize with Inge, who also lands after inspiration replenishment in Denmark.

We will both be bubbling over with inspiration then. Rest assured.

I shouldn’t be here - at my desk in Chantilly. Instead I should be enjoying the south-western coastline of Norway heading for Bergen. I should be pointing at interesting spots in the coastal scapes and discussing them with Inge. So why am I not in seat 2C and Inge in seat 2D scheduled for touch down at 16:40 and looking forward to discovering territory new to me, to enjoying a scenery featured by mountains and fjords and at the end of the day encounter a different menu card and dine with a view over waters I do not know? Why am I not doing any of that, when knowing that it would bring me tons of inspiration for future artistic activities?

The reason is very simple indeed. Friday morning the ground personnel at the airport of Bergen fancied going on strike! It gave me a painful déjà-vu from… yes, when was it? It was when we were going to Houston in the fall, when the flight crews of Air France fancied going on strike and cancelled 7 out of 8 flights in 4 days.

So yesterday tickets were cancelled, so was the taxi driver, the hire car and the hotel - a lovely hotel, by the way, on the coast - and instead of enjoying a freshly landed salmon from the North Atlantic tonight’s menu will feature Steen’s homemade pizza.

Well, nothing’s wrong with my homemade pizza. In itself my pizza is a fine piece of artwork made entirely of bio-produce, including a French fromage from Comté and brown mushrooms. How I spice the underlying tomato sauce is a secret. This makes me wonder if Cezanne, Picasso, Gaugin or Manet had secret implementation tricks they never shared with anyone?

Well, we will never know, but one day I may reveal how I make my underlying tomato sauce!

I wrote this on the 7^th of May:

Sitting in a train that just left the station.

Have never seen such a melt-down there before.

No trains leaving - no trains arriving.

People everywhere.

Reason communicated over the loudspeakers: Fire on or near the rails at at the next station)

Consider myself lucky being on the train, being seated and having only had to wait for 1.5 hours.

Recall seeing “la folie” at the station from the upper passenger bridge. People everywhere, so many and so densely packed, that they were represented merely by their heads. The scenario had similarities with patchworks made in pixel-fashion for the purpose of eventually representing an image when viewed at a distance.

The image conveyed did not only tell about too many people involuntarily gathered at the same spot they never had intended to experience more profoundly than what a quick transit passage would yield.

The image also conveyed a mood, and this is rare. But the kind of silent resentment, that of thinking “once again”, that of speculating at how to catch the connecting train or flight, how to honour schedules at the other end, being it London, Amiens, Brussels, Cologne, New York, Pekin, Tokyo, Rome… or Chantilly for that sake.

Right now the train stopped. They need to clear the rails for blocked incoming and outgoing trains. And I’m sitting here wondering why it is that this image of all the stranded travellers conveyed mood. Was it because I became somewhat irritated as well? It may be so, but I tend to believe that it was something else. Could it have been caused by this massive repetition of human expression?

The train moves on.

Why is it that I tell this story? Well, it is this integration of thousands of confused, discontent, irritated and/or resigning faces into an overall collective expression of mood that I cannot forget. Did the sheer number of faces convey at a distance what otherwise would require close-up photographs of a handful of them? Did the late afternoon light play a role? How much did my own mood play a role?

Today I cannot explain for sure how this expression was established, but I can convey my guesswork into a reflection on how to convey mood from a piece of artwork.