New Embroidery Course Announced

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Embroidery from Photography

4-week course running throughout November, Saturday 4/11/17-25/11/17 from 2-4pm situated at 1 Rose Lane Studios.

Cost £12 per session.

Session 1

Discussion around suitable subjects for embroidery piece, walk to Sefton Park to take a range of photographs, digital camera an advantage for participants but one will be available. Images downloaded and suitable ones chosen, run through graphics software then printed to a fabric.

Session 2

Introduction to a range of embroidery stitches, work on small samples. Begin work on final pieces using stitches learned earlier in the session.

Session 3

Continue to work on final pieces, group discussion around choices of stitches selected.

Session 4

Edge finishing techniques demonstrated, use of re-purposed frames for presentation. Introduction to the commercial aspects of working as a textile artist based in the North-West.

Contact to book your place.

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Blooming Small!

Blooming small is the word for the latest works from Liverpool based textiles artist Alison Little.

These miniature embroideries have been painstakingly stitched to show Liverpool Parks at their finest of flowering glory. She utilises pioneering techniques using digital photography to print to fabric then hand embroiders the pieces using an expanse of stitches. Organic variation of fibre manipulation allows for the touch of hand to be visible in the edging process. The first depiction is from the ever-famed bluebells present in the woodland areas of Croxteth Hall Park. The second is a vision of the new found glory of Everton Parks annual transformation into an array of wildflower meadows.

The two embroideries will go on display at Arts Hub for Alison Little, the fabric of Fine Art to be held from the 2nd to the 8th of October. In addition to the miniature embroideries, the exhibition will encompass larger wall based freehand machine embroidery pieces looking at everything from themes around Liverpool icon buildings to an interpretation of the latest contemporary poetry. A range of techniques is explored around quilting, appliqué, the re-purposing of decoratively patterned fabrics and the use of dis-solvable medium to create contemporary lacing edges. The latest ranges of framed hand crochet Wedding Day ranges. An organic approach to crochet where the mathematics of pattering meets the artistry of shaping. Not forgetting a selection of Nations most loved dogs featured on luxury cards. New samples of the pet portrait service where photographs of your furry friends become needlepoint creations. Fibres used to form fur, colours were chosen to depict the canine form.

A tiny piece of Liverpool Botanic, framed and available to purchase from Arts Hub.

2-8th October

Arts Hub 47, Lark Lane, L17 8UW

Arts Hub

Starlet

Starlet image copy

Starlet is a fictional work from Alison Little, none of the charters or events are based on real life.

Starlet

She brushes her hair after her mid-morning bath, her routine so much more leisurely than her childhood days of rushing between casting and filming. She had become a star at the age of three, the Americans and due to the nature of Hollywood, the rest of the World took her into their hearts. A little lady who took the people away from the misery of the Depression in the thirties for a few hours in front of the big screen. The girl that had had everything any child could dream of: leading roles in the latest blockbusters, starring with headline grabbing names. Routines of hair and make-up, no-one ever questioning the sexualisation of the pre-teen, the beautifying process to ensure she was truly gorgeous on the big screen. Her own range of commercial products and, every girl’s dream, her own doll moulded to her features and dressed in her clothes; Black and sassy, hair dark and glossy with bright red lips. Her childhood years were spent marking the milestones of her mothers next high profile marriage. As a Hollywood star herself her Mother had ensured that she pushed her daughter in the same direction after all, fame and fortune was all every girl needed, all anyone should ever desire. She secured the best parts for her daughter and demanded she made the most of them. There was not too young an age to learn that appearance, to be envied by women and to be desired by Men was life’s primal goal.

She really did have it all, but at the age of twenty-two, she decided to give it all up, apart from a few cameo roles acting, singing and dancing were no more. Her Mother dictating her life’s direction was no longer, she made her own decisions.

A soft bristled brush, she quickly neatens her hair, a shorter more practical cut now, still naturally dark but sleeker towards her jaw. Thinking back to her childhood she remembers how she had used to give her hair one hundred strokes to ensure it stays shiny as it lies down her back, again at her Mothers insistence. An exercise in vanity while the other girls played with the dolls modelled on herself. Walking into her wardrobe to select her clothing, opting for a neatly waisted skirt and fitted top. She will look smart and decisive in this attire. She looks herself up and down in the dressing table mirror. Very competent as a well dressed she would ensure she appeared to be a happily married mother of two children she thinks to herself. Her mind turns to her recent disappointment, her husbands latest affair had come out in the gutter trash of the daily press. She had not realised that he had been having an affair, not a new one anyway, there had been so many she had lost track after their second child was born. This time it was more of an embarrassment, he a celebrity artist they had met early on in his career, he had returned from fighting in Europe in the War. He had built up fame ass an abstract painter, his celebrity status excelling when they had begun dating. So as she stepped out the lime light he had stepped in, as he became more famous the headlines began to refer to him by his name, not simply husband of Starlet, Hollywood’s legendary child star. This time it was more of a humiliation, even bigger headline news, the women he had been having the affair with was his life model. Although abstract painters didn’t use life models the press had jumped on the notion as a great story. He had been amidst an alcohol fuel period for several months. She had been avoiding him and ensured the children didn’t see him during these bourbon flavoured patches. He would spend much of his time at his studio, his paintings very dark during these periods. Many of his evenings were spent at endless parties accompanied by various women, other than herself. It was at one of these parties he had been photographed in an embrace with the so called life model come high-class hooker she thought to herself. It had knocked her terribly, she would put a brave face on things for the children and wait until he begged her to take him back. She didn’t know what she would do, say yes or no, it was still too fresh a wound to determine if it could be healed.

Then she looks in the mirror again, the vision comes directly from the heart: she remembers herself as a young girl and she sees a girl of stone. Transfixed and still in motion, no breath, no heartbeat, fixed solid as a rock like form. Her beauty is her shell, her outward appearance, her internal organs are dead to life and emotions. To the outside world she sings, dances, acts and socialises, on the inside, she is frozen still. The dark haired Starlet had become a mature mother who no longer sang and danced, but she was still the same, she must project an image of confidence and success to the World, she may be facing a marriage breakdown but she would continue to allude confidence.

Slowly she moves towards the window, she takes a cigarette from her pack of twenty and she lights it with the marble weighted table lighter. She feels the weight of the marble in her hand, she looks through the expanse of the window of their lakeside Mansion. She thinks about tearing her arm backwards, aiming forwards then projecting the shot put through the outstretched glass pain. A vision of a missile exploding, shrapnel in pursuit of every direction as it projects into the horizon of the lakes edges.

Calming herself, she inhales slowly enjoying the nicotine rush, they were only just beginning to talk about the health risks of smoking now, she had no intention of giving up, her lifelong habit would remain her many vices. She gazes out of the window, her eyes scan the lake: the mountains standing tall in the distance, the expanse of the lake stretching out for miles into the horizon. The pine trees surround the lake looking tall and healthy, strong and worldly, the American way. On the left shore she can see the small cluster of cherry tree’s, she thinks back to the cocktail that had been created in her name. The mixture of ginger ale vodka and tequila topped off with the finest cherries, a highly toxic variety which seemed appropriate for the US dark haired icon.

She looks towards the glass she had been drinking from until late last night, the gin bottle with still quite a bit in it was free to consume. The ice had melted and the lemon had dried up, the tonic was warm but still neatly assembled on the tray which was brought up to her last night. She considered calling down to Ebinger the Mexican housekeeper who came in on weekdays. It was eleven in the morning and she didn’t want her to know she going to start drinking so early in the day. He had sent her over the edge, into the abyss to alcohol added depression, the worrying over everything and seeing no positivity in the future. She made do with warm tonic to accompany the gin then fuelled her mind with another cigarette.

The water laps the rocks which align the edges of the tides path, her eyes focus on the jetty. The small lock up at the end proudly parading the star spangled banner at full mast. An array of brightly coloured kayaks lines one side of the landing,

She thinks back to a movie she had made not long after the second world war. She was all of sixteen and playing a naval Seels sweet heart, she stays loyal to him as he sails seas and coverts with women on the South Pacific. She had not been keen as they had wanted her virtually nude in many of the sex scenes, but her Mother, as usual, had decided it was what was in her best interests. She thinks back to the days of making the movie, a chance to escape her domestic nightmares, her mothers latest husband, she was now on number five had decided he preferred the junior dark haired Starlet to the mature beauty of her mother. He had started walking in when he knew she would be changing when she started blocking the door way with furniture he began ensuring he walked out of the bathroom naked when he knew she was the only one in the house. She made sure she was never alone in the house with him, staying late and making new arrangements to avoid his company. One of the older actors on the set had realised that something was wrong, he had spoken to the director, an old friend of her mothers he had come to the same conclusion. He tried to raise the matter with her mother but she would not believe a word of it, rejecting the logic put forward. Starlet continued to suffer enduring him at meals and more frequently over the festive season. As she looked for escape her domestic nightmare her drinking had begun, eventually leading to the meeting of her current husband.

Looking towards the other moorings her eyes focus on a small motor boat, the stern facing towards the expanse horizon. To take the boat and plough at full speed towards civilisation furthest outpost, how easy it would be to end everything, for the weight of her boulder shaped organs to drag her to the bottom of the lake. Her slow and solid lungs to fill with the water from the basin of nature’s whirlpool. The starter motor of the heart pumps sludge slowly through her internal organs to fail to kick in. The once long dark hair intertwined with the weeds at the bottom of the cycle of life, she would be no more……….

New Exhibition Announced

Full image

Alison Little

the Fabric of Fine Art

at Arts Hub

This exhibition brings the latest fine art textiles to Liverpool’ leading grass routes exhibition venues: Arts Hub on Lark Lane.

We have the very latest works from Liverpool based textiles artist, Alison Little. Larger wall based freehand machine embroidery pieces looking at everything from themes around Liverpool icon buildings to an interpretation of the latest contemporary poetry. A range of techniques is explored around quilting, appliqué, the re-purposing of decoratively patterned fabrics and the used of dis-solvable medium to create contemporary lacing edges. Smaller framed hand embroideries exploring pioneering techniques in the use of photographic imagery to create fibre works. The latest ranges of framed hand crochet Wedding Day ranges. An organic approach to crochet where the mathematics of pattering meets the artistry of shaping.

Not forgetting a selection of Nations most loved dogs featured on luxury cards. New samples of the pet portrait service where photographs of your furry friends become needle point creations. Fibres used to form fur, colours were chosen to depict the canine form.

1000 stitches hooked, 100 needles threaded, 10 hours on the sewing machine and 1 very passionate artist. A show not to be missed.

2-8th October

Arts Hub 47, Lark Lane, L17 8UW

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Casual Sex: Right or Wrong?

white lacy pants

So when is casual sex right? When you are living the high life, you are young free and single, you are not looking for a long term relationship. When you are only planning on staying somewhere for a limited period, a short-term placement or simply a holiday fling. You are career focussed, committed relationships take time and have to be worked at, other things must come first. Life is all about clubs, mates and short term shack-ups.

Yes the above, then why not.

So when is it wrong?

When you find it difficult to turn a man down, feel obliged to have sex with them because they have paid for a meal or taxi and that will be what they expect from yourself. It’s wrong if you feel this way yourself or a man makes you feel this way through his language and actions. More so when you are had too much to drink, or high from party drugs such as ecstasy. Can you really be fully consenting to intercourse if you mind is in an altered state?

When you are insecure and feel better when you have sexual attention from a man, even if only for a short period. If you lack the power to cope with emotional associated with inadequacy from childhood. Girls that were victims of childhood sexual abuse, women that have been raped, of those who have suffered both often become promiscuous as a response to what they have suffered. A form of defiance from a traumatic sexual experience, they will live an unrestricted reproductive lifestyle and ignore the moral guidance which surrounds us all.

In a long term relationship and both have shown a commitment and love towards each other. Sleeping with another man is clearly wrong in these circumstances. Equally when you are in a boomerang style open relationship: he has sex with other girls, you have sex with other men to hurt one another. These are negative relationships which will make both of you unhappy in the long term. To forget an ex-partner, sleeping with numerous almost faceless men to dis-remember there once sole lover brings no joy to life.

A biological menstrual abnormality often leads to casual sex. All the other girls are doing their best not to get pregnant, at the back of your mind you have a fear that you will never be able to conceive and have a family.

Simply too much of a lad rather than a lady: all your brothers went home with as many different girls as possible, so do most of your male friends, so you must do the same. As many notches on your bed post as your male counterparts to the extreme.

Other than that we have the more serious extremes of being a sex addict or severe bipolar.

So now is time to ask: Have I been doing any of the above, is it myself who is making a mistake, not because it’s what society dictates but because you are making yourself unhappy?