balance

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Waco

Our dog Waco (after the Texas town) is a rescued Australian Shepherd. She is blind in one eye; the result of a murky recessive gene pool, provoked by the desire of some breeders and consumers to own a dog with a beautiful merle coat. Unfortunately a considerable percentage of those litters are not as intended. Instead, they are some variation of mostly white, smooth coat, blind and deaf.

Though visually disadvantaged, Waco hears well (its her superpower) and carries a glimpse of her recessive merle coloring on her hindquarters. Waco’s sight deficiency limits her peripheral vision and depth perception. She approaches people/things/environments differently and so understands them uniquely. For instance, she never ventures upstairs because the stairs flatten into stripes; making that first step a doozy! Fetch is out of the question (disastrous) Paper is just confusing. But, television. Television is an exciting reality.

I share that to say: this year will be the first time I won’t be juggling teaching and studio work. I’ve stepped away from the classroom after thirty years, taking the opportunity to just make. I’m not sure what that will look like. It will certainly be a shift in approach (and less talking…except to myself) I confess that all those years in the classroom have left my heart pocked from the shrapnel of cynics (to be sure, some were self-inflicted)

Nonetheless, I want to intentionally approach the world with a different attitude; a unique understanding. My desire is to communicate God’s love where faith and art intersect, where talent and purpose overlap, where skill and intent connect. Perhaps a lofty aspiration. Perhaps. I understand that first step is a doozy.

What’s in a name?

Odessa

We’ve named each of our dogs after towns in Texas (its a thing) Our first dog, Odessa is the namesake of dessadog studio. She was (unbeknownst to us) a very sick rescue. Odessa was a mix of Australian Shepherd and something that came along in the desert (yep) The. Smartest. Dog.

Then came Fabens, named after a sleepy little farming community outside of El Paso. She was a quirky Border Collie we adopted from a no-kill shelter. That dog was clever. She had a remarkable talent for opening doors (though closing doors seemed to escape her)

Fabens

 

 

 

Waco keeps us on our toes these days. I affectionately refer to her as wiggle-butt. She just loves her people. Waco spends her time chasing birds and feral cats that she’ll never catch because, spatially she’s at a loss.

 

 

Mark your Calendars!

17th Annual Ceramic Studio Tour
February 24 & 25, 2018
Saturday & Sunday from 10am-5pm

My studio will be on the tour again. Sam Hodges, Sarah Brodie and Genie Swanstrom will be returning with me this year. We look forward to seeing everyone.

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I think I might have a time-space continuum conundrum (it’s a thing. I’m sure) There were early warning signs; standing in front of the empty walk-in closet of our then-new home thinking how much extra space I was going to have (red flag! red flag!)

Similarly, when I look at a calendar with thirty or so empty boxes I see nothing but potential with room to move…and, there’s 30. Sometimes 31! (February, being akin to Daylight Savings Time, doesn’t count and it just screws with your watch) Thirty is a lot. I mean, thirty of anything else is abundance.

30 cupcakes is a party!
30 stitches is a trip to the ER.
The IRS gives you 30 days of grace to get your act together before an audit…ok, bad example.
But, you get it.

If I’m paying attention, once I begin to fill in those boxes of potential, they tend to crowd out all that room to move. Like shoes in that ever-shrinking closet.

When I last left you at The House of Disney Princesses, I was waiting on the green light to begin painting a mural outside the Arizona Baptist Children’s Services’ (ABCS) Phoenix location while preparing for a return trip to South Africa scheduled for the end of September.

Arizona Baptist Children’s Services, Phoenix.

We painted the mural over four weekends, with a couple days in-between, beginning August 17th and finishing up September 9th. Suddenly my mid-August gig ran smack into my September. Those boxes of potential disappeared like extra closet space.

l-r: B.Shook, F.Krevens, I.Flyer, J.Kelsey-Mapel, D.Ridley, J.Baron, T.Gledhill

As we finished up the mural, I began setting up The 3rd Occasional Cup and Mug Sale; knowing I would need to begin social media promotion for the sale while I was in South Africa. This event had been in the works since May, which further illustrates my time-space conundrum. How did everything get all bunched up? I would be jumping into one very tight schedule once we returned with the sale calendared for October 20 and 21 ::sigh::

And so it goes.
A few days ago my sweet husband helped me apply the sacrificial/UV coat to the mural at ABCS. We needed to wait for cooler weather and a free weekend. What a great time we had meeting the community while painting this summer. Thank you ABCS for the opportunity!

Our trip to South Africa was amazing!! We were privileged to partner with Hope Baptist Church again as they reach their community, encourage pastors and churches in neighboring towns and nations, and become more deeply connected to our brothers and sisters in Christ oceans away. Did I mention amazing?!

l-r: R.Brinton, S.Berzelius, R.Littlefield, A. Orlando, C.Applen, G.Swanstrom, S.Blain, S.Hodges, S.Brodie, T.Bailey, B.Zubler, S.Siegel, L.Speranza, D.Watkins, C.Johnson, C.Boren, J.Amiel-Bendheim, J.Forzano, T.Do, M.Farabee, J.Gamble, M.Johnson, M.VanDusen, K.Escobedo, J.Kayser, P.Green, A.Rassmussen, S.Luerhsen, J.Armstrong, T.Budzak, C.Hilton.

The 3rd Occasional Cup and Mug Sale was So. Much. Fun. 38 local ceramic artists participated in our occasional event. This year the sale benefited Pursue Life Adult Ministry, a ministry of ABCS. We collected (at last count) $1,210 in Home Depot and Lowe’s gift cards to help offset the cost of creating adaptive living environments (wheelchair ramps, pull bars, etc) for senior adults of limited financial means that desire to stay in their homes as they age.

As we approach Thanksgiving, I’m preparing a workshop scheduled for December 4th. I can almost feel those boxes being squashed like that over-committed hanger wedged between the grubby jeans and the sweatshirts.

If you’re interested in making a tax deductible donation to Pursue Life Adult Ministry, you can do that here*: https://www.abcs.org/donate/donate-now
*scroll down on the designation box to choose Pursue Life Adult Ministry.

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on being Piglet

Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind.
“Pooh!” he whispered.
“Yes, Piglet?”
“Nothing,” said Piglet, taking Pooh’s paw. “I just wanted to be sure of you.”

~AA Milne, The House at Pooh Corner.

There are uncertainties that encourage reckless daring (those seem to happen mostly in the movies) Or doubts that make you question what you know (the goal of every multiple choice test) And then, the second guesses that manage to override your heart (like Piglet, I struggle here)

For a long time I’ve wanted to create a large drawing on clay – like, Gulliver-size large. OK. That might be a little ambitious considering Gulliver’s towering figure, but yet….

Gulliver's Travels, Johnathan Swift illustration, Arthur Rackham

Gulliver’s Travels, Johnathan Swift
illustration, Arthur Rackham

A work of significant scale is dependent on a few necessary components – not the least of which is an exhibition site. And then there’s the matter of engineering and subject. The more I’ve thought about how I might go about creating a drawing of this scale, the more I’ve wanted to make it happen. I’m not much of a public art artist. I love public art and percent projects that bring beauty to much of our functional every day. However, it’s not really the best venue for my current work (and it’s scary!)

After securing a location to show my foray into big drawing, I threw my motivation into drive. My thought is to get all the tiles bisgue fired so I can marathon glaze. But, some how collecting bisque ware runs counter to motivation. That growing stack of tiles is overwhelming. The lengthy process allows for considerable doubt. I’ve second guessed the initial design (too late to turn back, now), the feasibility of the installation (this may be an engineering nightmare), and the surface/glaze is now in such flux I’m not sure how to read my notes (not counting my indiscernible handwriting)

Most bothersome is the uncertainty that makes me question my intent.
Why am I doing this?
What am I trying to communicate?
Which lends itself to, where was I in the process?
Often followed by, why did I come into this room? (that might be a completely unrelated thought)

I feel like I’m in a constant state of righting my perspective (read: attitude)

So then, back to my original notes.
Reorient my thoughts to the initial vision.
Think beyond where I am in the process; making sketches and notes to keep moving forward.
Stop being Piglet.





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~illustration: Lee McCormick

~illustration: Lee McCormick

A couple weeks ago as I was headed to class I saw something I’ve seen a hundred times over; young almost-adult men on bicycles that are considerably too small for them to ride comfortably. I reason this boy/man to bicycle relationship comes about slowly and organically (read: unplanned). Somewhere around that 9th or 10th birthday, there awaits the gift of a bicycle. The best gift because it amounts to some measure of independence and freedom. Boys on bikes doing risky things: pullin’ wheelies, jumpin’ ditches, racin’ down ravines (events that precede emergency room visits) Life is great!

But, there’s this phenomenon that occurs sometime between the endowment of emancipation and four or five years down the road. The bike doesn’t change but the boy does. The boy use to stand on the pedals to produce the most possible downward force for his 70 pound frame to go as fast as the wind. Whereas, the young man stands on the pedals to keep his knees from relentlessly smacking the underside of the handlebars.

photo credit: Chris Harvey

photo credit: Chris Harvey

It’s a work-around. Instead of getting a new bike you make it work (besides, there’s hope for a beater car in the near future) It’s not as freeing. It’s not as comfortable. And, it’s increasingly more difficult to keep those low slung pants up when you can’t sit to pedal. I believe this is probably an imperative right of passage in American culture for boys.

The work-around is well rooted in our ethic; necessity being the mother of invention and all. However, when necessity finds itself in that slow, organic relationship we tend to spin our wheels (or maybe, smack the top of our knees on the handlebars) We didn’t see it coming. It worked before.

The pain and frustration we feel happens when it doesn’t work any more and there’s a realization that things are different now – girls become women overnight (like…overnight), I need God more than He needs me (but still, He chooses me), math gets really hard, reading glasses (’nuff said),…

I have students paralyzed in their frustration with clay; having employed the work-around far too long. It takes some time, but once they’re aware their battered knees are the result of not paying attention while the assignment became more complicated, grew increasingly sophisticated, the lesson is half learned. The rest lies in a different approach, a change in mechanics, a fresh perspective, a new bike.

Suddenly, the familiar taste of freedom.



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Billy’s car

During high school, my friend’s brother Billy would sometimes pick us up after school in his c.1965 Ford Falcon. His generosity was almost always used as leverage later for a favor. (read: alibi)

I remember that car didn’t have seat belts. (I think I prayed for a seat belt on a couple occasions) The key could be removed from the ignition and tossed out the passenger side window into the desert while the car was still running. (a different adventure altogether) And, the best operating procedures demanded that while idling, the driver shift into neutral and lay liberally on the gas or she would die.

I idle a lot like Billy’s car. It nearly kills me.

~original with broken parasol

~original with broken parasol

A couple months ago I found myself at a standstill. Everything shifted into neutral. It’s almost painful for me. I just don’t idle well.

So, when a friend asked if I could repair a ceramic figure of some sentiment that had been broken, I did what every ceramic artist does…I hesitated. When I first saw the piece I knew full well I probably couldn’t fix anything. (sometimes broken is forever) I held in my hands a finely cast, translucent porcelain geisha figure with a delicately detailed, broken and pieced together parasol. Nope. Can’t fix it.

However, I could replace the broken piece. (sweet! a project) So, yeah…a replacement.

I went about creating a substitute for the original parasol with a piece that felt similar. Knowing there was no way I could reproduce an identical piece, I posed this question, “how might the visual elegance of the geisha be altered by this one element?”

geisha2_300

And so it goes. My replacement form is less formal with a tighter negative space between the figure and the parasol than the original; making the figure seem more provincial – even a bit novice.

geisha3_300

When a little color and a western umbrella form are introduced, there is a certain visual shift. The surface treatment still speaks to Japanese tradition. Yet, the modern form allows the figure a closer proximity to 21st century culture. Here, a young contemporary girl learning the traditional arts.

geisha4_300

The idea of introducing a complicated rhythm to the slow elegant line of the figure occupied my head for awhile. Another dynamic through that one element. Yeah…I went all Winnie-the-Pooh on her. (a blustery day indeed!) Would that I could look so collected the next time my umbrella gets whipped inside out.

Ah…a much appreciated shift. Thank you friend for the opportunity to get through idle.


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