ticking boxes with a new studio

David piecing together patchwork panels for the vintage denim upholstery fabric we are making to cover our studio lounge. It is a humongous project and will be a super comfy piece to rest on once we are done.

My new studio has been in the pipeline for many months now and is slowly but very surely coming together. So many ideas that have been percolating away are now seeing the light of day and it is at this point that collaboration really begins to be exciting.

It is a beautiful work space and housed in a newly-built, light-filled, architecturally and purposefully designed complex - tick, tick, tick and tick! 
Plus it is a stone's throw from my front door (just a matter of riding along the bike path for a mere 5 minutes) with views over Merri Creek bushland to Ceres. With a new year's resolution to find a greater sense of self in my work this serene environment feels like it will mark an evolution in my personal creative practice. 

My studio buddies are Pauline Tran and David Pearce whom I admire very much as makers and innovators and so it is with great anticipation that we come together to see what bursts forth.
We have named it Pop Craft Studio (in honour of Pauline's amazing luxurious yarn business - Pop Craft that has been running for four years.)
Above and beyond our own personal creative work the intention with Pop Craft Studio is to serve as a point of exchange for Melbourne's creative textile community hosting textile master classes, with instruction from local and international experts; host an artist-in-residence program; establish an individual mentorship/business development scheme for emerging textile designers, and introduce Big Pop! - an irregular gallery space showcasing monumental fibre art works.  
And as a way to inspire creative dialogue, a monthly Friday Night Feast will also be held in the studio (or on the outdoor deck, when the seasons allow).

As a way to get all of this activity underway we have launched a Pozible campaign - I would love you to make a pledge if any or all of these ideas tick your boxes.

We are making a studio couch from vintage denim (work-in-progress pic above) so if you have any spare denim lying around that you would like to donate to the project let me know. You could even come and test the couch out once it is done. It is being designed especially with midday siestas in mind.

Em x

a sense of belonging

photograph by Emma Byrnes

I love small business. I have always been a keen observer…I watch and notice things. I pick up on nuances and energy. Not in a psychic kind of way but more of an intuitive thing. As a child I loved the feeling of belonging that I got from walking along the strip of shops in our neighbourhood…I knew all of the shop names, the shopkeepers and many of them knew my name too, or at least knew me by sight. I would note the handwritten signage in a shop window, the faded patina on a milk bar wall, the way the shelves were neatly or haphazardly arranged, the way a particular shop owner would shuffle from out the back when a customer set the front door bell off. All of these details delighted me and, to be honest, they still do.

From my early days I sensed the despondency of the workers stacking shelves at Franklins supermarket - sensations that were in stark contrast to the warmth and connection I felt at the local family-owned grocery store, even though their tasks were relatively similar. What was it about the family-owned business that made such a difference? 

From when I was 14 until I was 22 my mum owned a fabulous little continental-style coffee house, in Sydney. My sister and I would work there on weekends and it was such a beautiful place to be. It was a tiny shop stuffed full to the brim with the finest continental delicacies – quality chocolate, jams, biscuits, freshly roasted coffee, French pastries, Austrian strudels...the list goes on. A couple of kids would always stick their heads in the door on their way home from school just to take a whiff of the heady aroma of freshly ground coffee. Mum employed my calligraphy skills to write all of the shop signage – a job I absolutely loved and to which I would take my most meticulous penmanship. Over Easter and Xmas the shop would be filled to the brim with amazing German gingerbreads and papier mache decorations. Locals would always peer in through the shop window to see our festive display. It was like a miniature Myer window.

Working behind the counter as a young adult was a terrific way to gain a greater understanding of human complexity. No two customers were the same. I learnt to work around the trickier personalities and became friends with people of all ages. Maybe it is the sense of belonging and the way it gets in under your skin that can make small business so rewarding. If I close my eyes now I can still smell, see, hear, taste and feel that special space - crammed full with memories.
What it evokes for me still informs my creative and everyday pursuits and I am very thankful for that experience.  

Some special businesses that I really love and that foster grassroots connections are:

• Plump Organic Grocery - OK as a co-founder I am biased but Plump really is a special place that makes such a strong connection with the village that it operates in.
• The Flower Exchange - These guys pour all of their love into their very own rural vegie patch and flower garden during the week and then on thursdays bring the weekly harvest to Melbourne. My favourite aspect of their business is the Flower Exchange. They don't sell their flowers but instead have chosen to "create community, share abundance and make conversation instead" by exchanging their flowers for something other than money. This is so up my alley as I am very interested in the notion of alternative economic systems and the benefits they have to those involved. Am looking forward to signing up for my first posy very soon.

Em x

the lucky moment

Watching our children exploring in the rock pools is one of my greatest joys. It is the place I go to when I am asked to close my eyes and think of a happy place. 
Photograph by Emma Byrnes

I think in pictures.

I am constantly squinting at scenes before me, subconsciously applying the rule of thirds.

I started taking photos when I was 10. I was given a Kodak camera for xmas and immediately fell in love with the satisfying click and the sound as I manually advanced the film. As time passed I realised that taking photos allowed me as a shy person to be right up close to the action without having to play a central part. Participating but slightly removed, hiding behind the lens.

My sister became my main muse – she would dress up in her fineries and we’d venture into our garden – she would pick flowers, ride her bike, do handstands. I would savour the light, the colours, every movement, intensely watching, waiting for the right moment to commit to film. I was so keenly observing the dynamics at play, seeing which direction she was moving and when she would hit a particular light spot within a certain frame.

And then, with a sixth sense, even before it had arrived, I would see that special instant flash before me. It was so exhilarating when the timing was just right. The buzz I would get from the perfect capture in those days before digital photography. And the trepidation as I wound that unseen image on, poised for the next lucky moment.

Then the patient wait for the processing would begin…taking pot luck with my pocket money budget on these unknown masterpieces/failures…wondering if the pictures would come out just as I had seen them in my mind’s eye or whether they would be foggy or - as often happened in the early days - have a thumb sticking right over one corner.

When I was 12 years old I took photography classes every Saturday with a group of adults at the local arts centre. It was there that I first experienced the musty, funky magic of the darkroom and learnt the ins and outs of an SLR camera. Not only did this time consolidate my love for photography, it also gave me confidence as my images held their own alongside those of my older peers.

Over the ensuing years I continued to carry my camera with me almost everywhere I went and eventually studied photojournalism at Charles Sturt University.

Digital photography has arrived since then and despite my initial resistance I am now a complete convert. One of the main reasons I converted to digital is that as well as being a lover of photographic imagery I love sharing stories. Social media lets me paint a picture of what I see before me and develop a story around my sense of place. It’s what I did with Harvest Textiles. I have never worked primarily as a photographer but have always used it in my work life and private life to enhance my experiences and the way I interact with the world. At Harvest I was able to put my photography skills to very good use. I was constantly inspired by the colour and designers in our studio and I spent a lot of time documenting the daily activity and the people who came through the door, using our blog, flickr, instagram and website.

I’m excited about my new project, Heartland, because it will give me a chance to exercise my skills even further, through collaborations and projects. There are a few already in the pipeline, so do stay tuned and all will be revealed - in good time!

Em x

hello and goodbye and hello

Photograph by Emma Byrnes

It is 8 months since our third child was born. He is a beautiful gift. He has brought us so much joy and a much deeper perspective on what this big old journey is all about.

I’ve gone from leading a busy life running a successful textiles studio and keeping a household humming along with my husband and two children to a slower, more contemplative existence. But it’s just the kind of speed our newborn baby needs. 

I went on maternity leave from Harvest Textiles in mid 2013 and much has changed in that time. The studio is winding down and very soon will be closed for good. And it’s with mixed feelings – sadness and fondness – that I look back on the company I co-founded and imagine the next chapter. 

One of the best parts about Harvest Textiles was the creative journey it took me on, allowing me to indulge my love of visual storytelling, make with my hands, learn new skills and build a successful business we could all be proud of. But most of all, I’m grateful I met so many wonderful people along the way.

The Harvest concept – a textile studio that made products, ran workshops and hosted artists and events – was such a dynamic force and provided so many people with so much inspiration. For that reason it’s hard to finally say an official goodbye.

But that’s partly what I want to take with me into the future: a desire to do work that inspires people and promotes those creative connections we all love. And if I can continue to bring that energy into daily life with my family I’ll be one step closer to true satisfaction.

Which is why I created Heartland.

Heartland is a place for me to follow my intuition, make mistakes, challenge ideas and, above all, play. You might find the pace slow at first - with bubs in tow we’re all taking baby steps around these parts - but my inkling is that, like little ones everywhere, inspiration has a habit of starting off small and growing bigger and stronger with every square meal. I hope you can join me at the table and come along for the ride.

Em x