Artist’s statement: Lisa Pettibone

For something so important, there wasn’t much time to consider what to create for the MoonBound book. However, the thought experiment was tantalising – what would meet the moment, what did I have to say? The theme ‘how does the Moon see us’ caught me by surprise. Suddenly, the vantage point of our silvery satellite, its pristine view of the blue and white orb 240,000 miles away, seemed poetic. As a contributor to the Moon Gallery’s other successful launch, the ISS Test Mission in 2022, I felt the need to explore this idea further, more fully… in a few weeks, not a few months.

Initially my mind lit upon a seed, in particular the sequoiadendron giganteum (Giant California Redwood); perhaps I could produce a delicate, larger than life size pencil drawing to fit the 10 x 10mm page. Only a few days before, I had collected a few pinecones from beneath a tree just down the road from where I live in Surrey, UK. I dried them on the studio radiator, expanding them enough to release the 5mm seeds. This little germ produces the world’s largest tree, a towering growth mechanism indicative of a living planet. Seeds are essential to us but somehow don’t fit the theme so I set the idea adrift. In fact, with hindsight, it may have worked. Perhaps the Moon views Earth as a beautiful living seed, ripe and abundant with life, ready to cast out its fertility into the universe.

Next, in a day dream, I embodied the Moon, her orbital embrace, the clarity of her eternal view. The wild swirls of the azure orb, restlessly changing through eons of formation. First, the Moon witnessed the fiery glow of volcanic activity, fading to black and gradually shifting to calm hues of deep green, blue and white, its desiccated surface in stark contrast to its watery partner. Personifying this relationship like the Greek myths that have adorned the naming of constellations, it seemed fitting that this accidental team were sisters. Swinging each other round and round in a hand-held eternal dance, the smaller body admiring the glamorous big sister, an azure glimmer in her eye.

Unable to illustrate this scenario, I preferred to express it in a few poetic lines. The writing came much easier than expected and after a few revisions it was the presentation that needed more effort. Typeset characters appeared cold against the whimsical quality of the words, handwriting seemed natural, like a sibling writing a tender note. Many, many versions and styles were explored and, as always for me, the simpler renderings set a better tone. Wanting it to be read without a magnifying glass on that exquisitely tiny page, I knew the cursive had to be as legible as a children’s book. Words sent to orbit around my favourite nighttime companion.