Over the last year I experimented making paper using :

shredded receipts

tea bags and coffee

garlic leaves

Grass

and old Lino prints

I was quite fascinated with the garlic leaf paper . I admit the colour wasn’t great 😆 but the plant must have so much …. something in it to make it feel like and sound like greaseproof paper. Perhaps its mucilage.

I tried painting on the receipt paper

and the tea and coffee paper (this one had an addition of old receipts)

and I tried Lino printing on the grass paper which unfortunately had faded, losing some of that lovely lively green it had at the beginning. I had chucked in some washing soda in the hope it would preserve the colour, I read somewhere that it would help, but it didn’t seem to, although maybe it had a little.

this one has an interesting texture but resists the ink … due to its … whatever it is that makes it more plasticky than paper derived from wood.

if there is anyone out there reading this who is a biologist, or just knows, please let me know in the comments!

I’m going to try more Lino printing on my handmade paper and eventually I want to try printing them with earth and plant inks which I have already dabbled with but not yet developed the practice enough to get the consistencies right.
This was a wood cut I made printed on Japanese rice paper using a mixture of coffee, sloe and old oak bark.

I like the delicate earthiness of the colour, perfect for a moth.

I think most colours made using plant inks or earth paints will be delicate , and over time I presume they will fade. So this is one reason why I haven’t made more work like this and offered it for sale. But on the other hand I love the idea that a work is transient, changing hues gradually through time, like the leaves on the trees.
When I was a mosaic artist (my previous occupation for 30 years) I gilded glass with metal leaf and incorporated it into my work. I made leaf sculptures that I put outside and they changed colour from rich gold to pale gold with subtle tones of green. It was fascinating watching the transformation. The same glass didn’t change inside, it was only when placed outside in reaction, I presume to the weather, be it wet, cold, heat or bright sunlight.

So as our time on this earth is temporary why not embrace the transient and transformative nature of these materials? If we enjoy our gardens or rambles in the countryside, we also enjoy watching the changing seasonal fruits and flowers. But when it comes to art, why are we obsessed with permanence? Why shouldn’t the art work on your wall fade and change shades over time, surely that makes it more exciting, more alive. It has a relationship to the light, it reacts to the scattering particles that come in through the window in waves. When you think about it, really think about it that in itself is mind blowing!

One of the selling points of my work as a mosaic artist was that it was completely fade resistant and it would last forever. (That was before I started using the gilded glass). And I’m not saying there isn’t a place for permanent fade resistant works, without which there wouldn’t be any art history, making it difficult to celebrate artists, place in historical or political context or reference techniques and influences, and of course without which our lives would be less meaningful. But I do think transient works are just as important in our constantly changing world.

Art works that are non permanent are not new, for instance think about earth artists such as Andy Goldsworthy who makes works in the environment by layering colourful leaves that disintegrate, sculpting ice that melts and stacking stones that eventually topple . The forces of nature are an integral part of the work.

One of the main arguments to support the case for impermanent works are that they have a small carbon footprint and if nothing else they serve as a reminder to be receptive to change. And who knows the art might just last as long as we do.