Eureka!

I started working with clay two years ago and I believe this is the first time I’ve successfully integrated my drawing with this complex new surface. I’ve had lots of failures and, even worse, so-so outcomes; not bad enough to throw away, but you don’t want them around, either. And you can’t just paint over them like you can with canvases.

In my experience, making art is about showing up, doing something, even if you’re just sitting there with it. It can be hard work, and rarely cost-effective. When people ask me why I do it, which isn’t often thankfully, I can be at a loss for words. The experience of seeing this piece after the final firing, however, was a good reminder for me about why I make art. The “forces” came together and surprised me. I felt warm and fuzzy inside. I stepped beyond myself with this piece, and learned some things along the way.

Relations

When I don't have much time for large projects, I draw. And I always use the figure in some way. I wonder what motivates us, why we do what we do, and what makes us tick. My ideas usually come from what's going on inside of us. I'm not interested in what we look like but am intrigued by where we are relative to each other and the ways in which that can be shown. In the Venn Diagram image YOU are in the middle and the people in your life appear around you. It can be a tricky tool; just when you thought you were pretty close to a sibling you realize that they're way out on the furthest circle from you.

The quadrant image called "Relations" is intended to show how spatial distance and slight shifts in body position can give us a lot of information about what's going on between the two people. 

Starting Out

When I’m developing a new idea this is what I do…

1.     Consult sketch books, I have a lot of them. (see image 1) They’re a hodge podge of my drawings, writing, and glued-in images from magazines, etc. I’m recording my thoughts concerning the challenges and vagaries of being a human being.

2.     Keep flipping through the books, beginning with the most recent one, until I find something of interest. In this case it’s a page containing 2 lists from Psychology Today Magazine. (see image 2) One offers strategies for how to avoid bad decisions, the other suggests ways of holding on (or not) to happy feelings. Both concepts are enormously complex. By providing the lists the authors are giving us starting points, places to begin tackling the challenging issues. What they give me are distilled versions of the material that I can then translate into drawings.

                                           image 1                                                                                            image 2

3.     In this case, I’m not as attracted to the lists as I am to the word “as”, lower down on the page. My thoughts ran to figures as or with geometric shapes, figures as compositional devices, as plaid or herringbone patterns, etc. I’m creating a lot of thumbnail sketches. (see image 3) Man As Circle is a more developed version of one of the thumbnails. (see image 4) Who knows if this idea will lead into anything, but, you know what they say….nothing ventured, nothing gained.

                                       image 3                                                                                            image 4

The Deal

Exhibiting is part of the art-making deal; it’s the other half of the thought. There are, however, no guarantees that you’ll be offered an opportunity to do it. Researching reasonably worthwhile venues for your work is time consuming and expensive. And you’d better be prepared for rejections, because there are way more of those than there are acceptances. Why do it? I often ask myself.

I don’t ask myself why I make art, I just do it; it’s what I do. It makes a lot of sense to me when I’m making it, but less sense when I’m not. Actually, there isn’t much art that I really like, and as far as art forms are concerned, I’m generally moved by music more deeply than I am by visual art. I look at art and need to know what’s happening in the larger world of it, but I’m not crazy about attending openings.

I make art to try to make sense of the world. It keeps me in motion. It’s how I show up, declare what’s important to me, and invite connection. See? Exhibiting is part of the deal. 

Here I am installing my work at Baltimore Clayworks. The opening reception is this Friday, May 15th from 6-8PM.  I'm honored to be exhibiting these two works in "Putting the Pieces Together: An Exhibition to Address What is Broken". (curated by Sarah McCann) The exhibition runs from May 16-July 4, 2015. Free and open to the public.

 

The Return Of The Pushovers!

Each figure is 5"x5"x5" made from glaze-fired earthenware.

The first “Pushover” sculpture I made was 12”x8”x8”, approximately. I used red earthenware clay, the same material I’m using for the new ones. The goal is to make a minimum of 100 of them, each one unique, to be placed on the floor, creating an installation. What intrigues me about these figures is their apparent vulnerability (no legs) coupled with their inclination to get right back up after being pushed over. The concept is adapted from the old toy clown that did the same thing.

I made my first Pushover in October of 2015 when I was spending time with my Mom who was in acute rehab after a traumatic brain injury. I saw so many people struggling to recover. Then last week Baltimore erupted after a young man died in police custody. The event was the match that lit the enormous fire of anger and injustice living inside of most of us. There are generations of people who know only war. But we still hold on to whatever little bit of life that’s ours. It’s worth the work it takes to heal. Wounds can open us up to ourselves and to our communities.

Smashed Face

The face is what we present. It’s what usually informs our first impressions of people, and theirs of us. This small sculpture is intended to show a face that’s been smashed many times with something flat, like a frying pan or a paddle. Once this has happened, it’s no longer possible to speak. The smashing effect takes place when we try to speak up or out and no one listens. 

The thing is, those important, un-heard feelings and opinions stay inside of us, growing larger with time, and will eventually be expressed in other ways. 

Tangible Ephemera

Some Girls All Pleased by the Same Thing, 20" square, Acrylic on Canvas

This painting cracks me up. It cracked me up as I was painting it too. Some Girls All Pleased By What they See. What are the chances of that many girls (young women) being at the same place, at the same time, looking at the same thing, and all feeling pleased by it? Not to mention the fact that they all kind of look alike.

I’m looking for that place where the impossible and the possible might co-exist. The intention behind making Art is to reference something beyond one’s self. It’s possible, of course, to apply paint onto a surface, which is all painting is anyway. But it’s just about impossible to truly reference something outside of  one’s experience.

Transformation

One dictionary definition refers to transformation as a complete change, usually into something with an improved appearance or usefulness. In the drawing I’ve included, a man has recently shaved his face. It could be a hygiene issue, a rash or something. It could be that his significant other prefers him when he’s clean-shaven. Maybe his boss doesn’t approve of beards. There are so many forces working on us to make decisions that can precipitate change and, ultimately, transformation.

I believe that transformation is ongoing. It could be as simple as a shave or as complex as committing to a new relationship. What’s intriguing to me are the forces driving the transforming, and how many of those changes are actually dictated by choice. The dictionary definition states that the change is usually an improvement. Our clean-shaven man wanted a positive outcome: healthier skin, an admiring partner, a happy boss, perhaps.

I’m talking about personal transformation, what happens when we as individuals make changes. Aging is an enormous transformation. My Mom is 86 and has Parkinson’s. As the disease progresses she is forced to make changes; her world is becoming smaller. Obviously Mom didn’t choose Parkinson’s and she’s grieving the many losses she’s experienced. As she dims down into the disease I hear her spirit and sense of humor coming through when she whispers in my ear.

The changes in Mom’s life are taking place so she can live more easily. Are they useful? Yes. Chosen? Not by her.

I’m on OK Cupid

Listening, 10"x12", Earthenware Clay with Acrylic

I’m on OK Cupid, looking for love. I have a lot of love in my life; friends, family, but I’m talking about romantic love. I’m thinking about “writing” some visual love stories. I met with my accountant yesterday, about taxes, and in my enthusiasm when I found out I was getting a big refund, I told him I loved him. I felt a little awkward afterward, so I tried to offer an explanation. We ended up having a great discussion about love, and when you know it’s “real”.

I’ve learned a lot about love during the past year and a half, taking care of my Dad as he fought his last fight against cancer. I know that there are lots of different kinds of love but I’m wondering if there’s one pit-of-the-stomach place that gets accessed when you feel love profoundly. I hope so, because I know about it now.

The danger, of course, with visual love stories, is the Hallmark factor. So I’ll concentrate on aspects of love and see where it gets me.


Approach

Studio shot of "Approach", 34"x34", Acrylic on Canvas

 

It can be tricky to use text in artwork but I decided to give it a try in this piece. It's titled "Approach", 34" square, Acrylic on canvas. In the text I'm describing some observations on how to approach someone you might not know very well or might have offended slightly. The figure on the right is moving awkwardly toward the second figure who appears not to know that someone is behind him.

I started writing this blog a year ago and have enjoyed articulating my process using words. The figures obscure some of the text, breaking up the flow of the reading. I like creating a little visual challenge.

Hollering

I’ve recently been drawing a character that appears to be hollering, either at the world or at someone else. I holler at the world when I feel frustrated. Like when a young unarmed kid gets shot and killed.

But I don’t holler at people, at least I don’t think I do. I’m not particularly confrontational and like to believe that I can negotiate pretty effectively. But life gets messy, we lose the control we mistakenly think we own, and behave in ways that make us uncomfortable.

I miss my recently deceased Dad and my Mom is going downhill rapidly. I’m living my life but I’m sad and have needed to ask for help, neither of which is easy for me. I still can’t see myself hollering at someone but when I look at the figure being hollered at, he doesn’t seem to be minding it all that much.

God (broken)

I introduced this character last December. For some reason I’ve always thought of him as a God image. Yes, he’s pale, not PC, and clearly broken. I dropped him onto the floor and am surprised there aren’t more pieces.  At the time, I stood there with my mouth hanging open ever so slightly, feeling as if I’d done something sacrosanct. I’d planned on using him again but most likely won’t be gluing him back together.

This blog isn’t about God, guilt, or any metaphorical ideas that have come up. It’s about the concept of “broken”.  I’m creating a mosaic of ceramic tiles labeled “Bully” or “Bullied”. When the piece is being assembled I’ll be breaking and chipping some of the tiles. This way the breaking occurs not just literally but is also intended to suggest the breakage associated with the act of bullying and being bullied.

Even though I won’t be gluing the God figure back together, I believe in the potential for redemption when broken pieces are brought back together to form a new whole. 

Being There

Woman With Shadow

I began thinking about the “being there” idea in my last blog. I mentioned seeing a photo tagging me at an event I’d completely forgotten about. Clearly, just because I forgot about the event doesn’t mean I wasn’t there. The photo is evidence in this case.

I’m including an image of an unfired ceramic female figure; she’s about 14” high and 6” wide and deep. She’s looking at the shadow she’s casting. The fact that we cast shadows is a sign of our existence, that we take up space; that we were, in fact, there. We can breathe onto a mirrored surface and see the results of our emphatic huffing.

I’ve really just begun thinking about this idea. My interest is due in part to the recent death of my father. On some level, of course, I wish he were still here. And in some very important ways he is still here; even if he’s not creating shadows or condensation.

Shouting It Out!

Shouting It Out, 2014, 14"x10", glazed ceramic vessel

I love Law and Order, the cop show. Pretty lame, I know. You can almost always find it playing on some channel. I find the show comforting; the bad guys commit a crime and the good guys solve it, capture the bad guys, and bring them to Justice. Ahh…if it were only that simple.

Often, the show begins with the cops canvassing the neighborhood, looking for someone who might have witnessed the event. For the most part, people didn’t see what happened or don’t want to get involved. Sometimes, the person who denied witnessing the crime, after doing a little soul-searching, comes forward and helps the cops find the culprit. It seems easier not to get involved and in fact, witnesses can be put into witness protection programs for their own safety. They give up their identity and take on a new one.

Were you there? Did you see anything? Is there a moral imperative to step forward? There’s always a risk when you do that. A Facebook friend posted a photo of me with some people. I was there. I’d forgotten all about the event. I wasn’t committing a crime, of course. But I started thinking about what “being there” means.

Atrocities are occurring all over the world, in our homes, and in our neighborhoods. We hear, see and witness so much. We can’t possibly respond to all of it. So, what happens to “being there”? It’s in our purview, it’s too late, we already know about it. It’s not a solution, but the figures in “Shouting It Out” let out periodic roars, and it seems to help.

Shouting It Out is a 16”x13”x13” ceramic vessel. It will be exhibited in a show at Baltimore Clayworks. The show is called Graphic Clay: A Survey of Illustrated, Printed and Innovative Surfaces juried by Jason Bige Burnett. The opening reception is Friday, March 13, from 6-8pm and runs through May 9.

Sgraffito

             Click on image for larger view

I use sgraffito a lot in my work. I scratch through the surface of the clay or paint as if I were digging for gold. And in a way, I am. The gold isn’t so much what I find however, it’s the actual experience of looking below the surface. “Face-value” just isn’t enough. I want to understand what’s behind the skin.

The detail shot I included here is acrylic on canvas. The entire painting will be 60”x60” when it’s finished. I sponged the white onto the black and then scratched through the textural surface to find the figures. This is another of my Human Soup all-over compositions. I’m taking a look at the ways in which we effect and energize each other.

“Bully/Bullied” Mosaic

I started a new piece the other day, a mosaic inspired by a call for entries asking for “Broken Ceramics”. I’m etching the words “Bully” and “Bullied” deeply into the surfaces of the unfired clay tiles. This piece is a continuation of the series about bullying that I began a year and a half ago.

I wonder at what point does the bully become the bullied, and vice versa. The final mosaic will show the glazed tiles appearing to push and shove one another as they jockey for position. One tile bumps into another causing it to chip or break. The bullying motion continues, one tile after another.

This Is Actually GOD

I’m still recovering from my second bout with one of this season’s nasty flus. Not a happy camper. I had lots of time to think, too much maybe.

It’s been a rough year with Mom’s brain injury and now losing Dad to cancer in the near future. I’d like to “Let go” of some of the stress and “Let God” take it. I’m not there yet, I don’t know how to do that. And I must not be sure I want to let go of it or I’d have let it go anyway. But this piece is about GOD, not stress. So I guess the question is, “Do I trust that a GOD or GOD-ness will help, and if I am offered that help, will I know it?

I believe that each of us is an infinitesimal bit of the GOD-ness that makes up the human race. My ideas about Religion change almost daily but that belief never changes. I also believe in the power of tiny bits of GOD-ness rubbing up against each other and joining together to form something bigger than they are.

When I know I’m no longer contagious I think I’ll go out and rub up against some other tiny bits of GOD-ness and see if we can get something going. 

Hat as Protection

This is a portrait of my Dad. He was a businessman, an industrial engineer. He wore a hat like the one pictured, a Fedora, I guess it’s called. We use the phrase “He wore many hats” meaning he had several roles to play. He’s a husband, father, has been retired for a long time. He’s also been a cancer survivor for twenty years. But it’s now finally caught up with him. He’s on palliative meds, letting the cancer have its way. We still have him with us but he’s very sick.

I’m lucky to have spent a lot of time with him this past year. He and I have gotten to know each other. I didn’t think it was possible for the two of us to be as close as we are. He’s had to let go of many hats: Caretaker of finances, Breakfast cook, Food shopper, Driver. He’s used to being the boss, the one in charge, and in control.

Hats protect us. They keep the rain off our heads of course, but they also identify us. He recently said to Mom and me; “If I’m not able to help, then who am I?” It’s hard to watch him struggle to make peace with the process of becoming weaker.

He holds on tight but courageously surrenders and lets go of the old roles when he knows he has to. I see a changing man. Two years ago I wouldn’t have been able to call him a loving one, now I experience it all the time. I’m thinking of designing a new line of hats.

Short Stories That Don’t/Won’t End Well

When I refer to this collection of story tiles I sometimes call it Short Stories That Don’t End Well, at other times I substitute Won’t for Don’t. It’s unconscious but I believe that the word change is significant.

These pieces are quick to make; I don’t plan them. But I think about relationships all the time; human soup, what makes us tick, why do we do what we do to ourselves and to other people?

The ideas for the pieces are ongoing. I record them, not thinking about what happens next. When I suggest that the stories behind the pieces won’t or don’t end well, I’m playing, and being a little tongue-in-cheek.

When I think about it I actually prefer Won’t to Don’t. Won’t suggests that there’s potential for more than one outcome. Don’t, on the other hand, presumes that there is only one possible outcome, and that I know what it is.