Sunday, January 25, 2015
Lately, I have been working on balancing a busy schedule (who isn't?!). I'm enrolled in a post-baccalaureate art program, teaching art at a non-profit, working as a ceramics studio assistant, trying to take care of my family from afar, all the while attempting to keep a lively studio practice going. I've simplified my obligations and activities to be as slim as possible, but good intentions keep expanding to fill all of the corners of my agenda with projects and social commitments. Maybe I just delight in staying busy though? I often wonder how other people live and what that might feel like. How do other people balance their days?
Though it doesn't always work this way, I like to wake up in the morning and have my first thought be gratitude.. thankful that I get another day to do this and be here. That reminder makes it much easier to take on the day.
What also has been helping me is that I'm making a deliberate attempt to slow down. That sounds so generic, but I started stopping to look at the frost on our windows; it really crawls across glass in the most beautiful way. I watch a landscape unfold in the steam from my coffee cup every morning. I have been journaling for the first time since my angsty teen years (yikes). Tiny objects that I've collected and admired are finally making their way into small assemblages:
These are the quiet activities that bring me back from agenda-book-land. I am really looking forward to this year.
Monday, January 12, 2015
Tuesday, December 16, 2014
-"Dessert", ceramic, selected objects. Collaboration with Lily Fein.
-twist-tie, styrofoam bit, small tree fruit, plaster finger cast, wooden debris from electricians, kiln debris saved from the trash, bit of chalkboard chalk taken from math classroom, picture of space, bit of string...honestly I suspect that everything might be beautiful in some way.
-worn kiln shards, wadding, joint compound, paint, straps from a used disposable dust mask, electrician's wire clipping found on the floor in the hallway.
Wednesday, November 19, 2014
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Saturday, September 6, 2014
Friday, September 5, 2014
Back from Haystack Mountain School of Crafts in Maine (it was incredible) and I'm now working in Syracuse in a great studio (so blessed to be here). Needless to say, I have a lot of catching up to do here with posting works.
Two days into my open studio experience at Syracuse now and I already have a few small objects collected from the parking lot outside and from the corners of the hallway where bits of things have floated to the side of the main walkway undetected. I found a gorgeous scrap of plywood which was tiny and shaped like a slice of cake, and I balanced a small green wire on top with copper bits spouting out the end. It was the most satisfying thing I had ever made -- so inviting and precious. I put it to bed on my white shelf near the window with a smile.
Morning comes and I return to my studio. I notice right away that my inch tall assemblage is missing...nowhere to be found. A worker walks in after I have been searching for several minutes and when asked explains that he was sure it was just a couple of scrap pieces the electrician had left behind and he had thrown out my assemblage. His confused eyes stared back at me as I explained to him that I needed those pieces, they were ART.
Art is funny. It really is. We can get so lost in a world of beauty that other people don't even notice. It's silly and consuming and important.
Sunday, June 8, 2014
Sunday, June 1, 2014
Wednesday, May 21, 2014
Tuesday, May 20, 2014
Sunday, March 16, 2014
Wednesday, March 12, 2014
Just an in-progress shot. There are a lot of these small objects littering the studio this week -- crystallized, rigid, globby structures.
Finding things... peace in the quiet paths of the forest, companionship while talking to strangers in line at the grocery store, strength while dancing in the middle of a crowded room... feeling connected with the artist who created that piece of music, and perhaps understanding God a little more with each of those experiences.