I have to fight the urge to pick up every one of these spectacularly bright leaves when I find them strewn on the pavement. I want to pocket them, press them, rub them against my cheek, maybe stitch them into a quilt that will turn brown and brittle in days (okay, not a great idea). That is the crux of their loveliness, though, like snowflakes and fresh flowers they are utterly unperservable. The turning leaf is breathtakingly beautiful as it twirls down from it’s tree, as it lies in ruffled heaps amongst it’s yellowed counterparts. Enjoy us now, enjoy us now, they whisper as I walk through them.
on being back in the classroom
I easily settle into the quiet controlled environment of my studio work life. I adjust the volume on my stereo with a turn of my wrist, change the lighting with a flick of a switch, I’m tired of sewing, I change seats and work on an entirely different project. In the classroom things are far more volatile. Yesterday we printed the first round of silk screen designs. I came home with magenta and green paint in my hair, under my fingernails and somehow in one armpit. But inside that chaos is joy I cannot muster alone in my studio. Kids so thrilled with their screen printed robot or winged heart that they are forming future plans to make a living printing shirts.
respect the tool
Yesterday I started a six week teaching session with Junction City middle schoolers. We are doing silk screening which involves some precision cutting using exacto blades. I was amazed how the humming, chirping, squirming energy of the classroom immediately gave way to awed stillness as I handed out the sharp tools. We humans are tool users. When we apply ourselves completely to manipulating a tool we hone in, calm down, focus ourselves in a way we often can’t in the broader social world. I believe we tap into an ancient way of being human. So, once again, here’s to using tools.
still riding the wave
This is the place holder image on my blog but it perfectly illustrates my experience at this weekend’s sale! After months of solitary work in my studio it is such an exhilaration to meet and talk with people who admire my work. I need it! If I am an empty glass you are the water pitcher. Thanks for the compliments and purchases. They are what transforms and solidifies my art making into an actual career.
blaaaahhhhG!
That’s really the only thing of value I’ve got to say today. Although, for those curious about the photograph: Yes, that difficult to read facial expression is a well blended mixture of exhaustion, relief, and too much candy, and Yes, that is my fantasy personal assistant giving me a back rub.
stitch, hammer, paint, saw
I feel like a haggard santa (no red suit unfortunately) finishing, pricing, packing up the work I’ve created for this weekend’s sale. Come check it out (I will make an effort to wear something red) Friday night from 4-9 and Saturday 11-6 at 790 Willamette St.
that glazed look
Yesterday I spent most of the day standing on my rubber mat glazing, glazing, glazing pottery. I listened to War of the Worlds (the 1938 Orson Wells radio drama that caused mass hysteria). Did you know that a decade after the first mishap an Ecuadorian radio announcer reworked the story and aired it in Quito Ecuador, where it again incited a public panic. The militia was called out to defend against the supposed aliens, six citizens were killed, and the radio station responsible for the broadcast was burned to the ground.