Full Circle

"Phoenix", 2008

7" x 15" x 12"

Yesterday's post included a small photo of this papier mache/mixed media piece that I started well over a year ago. It was part of a series called "Mystical Receptacles". The forms were organic and undulating and somewhat pod-like, and I liked the idea of them, because they were sort of purposeless.

They were difficult to make, though. The papier mache layering went on for HOURS (not my favorite part of the process.) Some of them went through several incarnations, too, as I figured out what worked and more often, what didn't. With this piece, there was alot of "didn't". But I couldn't toss it. It still held promise, and besides, I liked the hanger-wire legs. Every so often, I'd do something different with it; just enough to keep me interested.

Yesterday I finished it, using recycled foil candy wrappers around the inner edge. The bright colors are reminiscent of my aunt and uncle's groovy living room rug, circa 1967. I'm almost inspired to do another! Or maybe not...

Studio Time, Skiing Time

Speaking of time spent in the art studio...(weren't we?), I didn't work in the studio on Tuesday. It was so beautiful and sunny and gorgeous out that I took the day off from making art, and took my kids skiing. But, art never leaves my mind for long, and I had one of those cool mini-epiphanies that's about something you already know, but it comes to you in a new and useful way.

I was watching my older son ski, and he's so comfortable and relaxed on his skiis; just looks like he was born on them (he practically was). And here's me: been skiing since I was eleven, now it's a few decades later (give or take) and I'm still just a solid intermediate. And (here's the mini-piph) I realize that it all comes down to the time one puts in. Even after all my years of skiing, he's got so much more time on his skiis than I do (especially since having kids!) that it's just second nature to him.

And, so it goes for the art. The more studio time you put in, the more you're going to feel comfortable on your skiis. No, wait... The more studio time you put in, the more comfortable you become with your art: how you make it, how you get it out in the world.

My husband is taking the boys skiing today. And where will I be? In my studio!

History of Art (Helmets)

I thought I'd take a break from shoveling out the art studio to go on a bit about the art helmets featured in the previous post. What causes an otherwise sane person (hmm... that might be a stretch) to create a papier mache/mixed media art helmet in the first place? And why should we care?

To begin with, let me just say this: the Chinese were the first to make papier mache, and they used it to make helmets that were USED IN BATTLE. (Alot of varnish?) Pretty amazing. So we can all breathe a sigh of relief: these art helmets are (mostly) for decoration.

I didn't start out to make art helmets. But one day, my son turned over one of my papier mache bowls, and stuck it on his head. Okay, he's seven... these things happen. But then my friend's 60-something Russian mom? There was something going on here. People just wanted to put things on their heads, apparently. So, I make art helmets now.

This latest batch was completed under a deadline, so I finished all three of them in about two weeks. Things were going great until I decided to add pastels on top of the acrylic paints; they need a spray fixative (my acrylic varnish smears them) so I frantically ran to the college bookstore (only source for art supplies here) and hurriedly applied a thin layer under less-than-perfect conditions. It didn't work, but you'd never know unless I told you. Oops. I just did.

The best part about completing these, though, was when I delivered them to Riverside Studios last week; Lorien, the jeweler, came in and immediately stuck "My Viking Valentine" on her head. She turned around with a big smile on her face.

Yes.

Read an article about the helmets at the Tahoe Arts & Mountain Culture website.

Art and...

Organization.

I want to talk about this topic in January, because after the holidays, which forces a break in the momentum of our previous year, it's time to regroup. And that is what I THINK I've been doing, although maybe I'm just continuing to disrupt my momentum. How much time do we need to regroup, and when does it turn into procrastination?

I told the UA last week that first and foremost this year, it's about doing the work. Making art. So what did I do? I spent all of last week organizing the studio. First, I looked back at last year's goals, and wrote up a list for 2008. I made up a daily schedule. I made up a weekly schedule. So far, so good. Then, I went through my notebook and my file cabinet. What I found during this process, to my nauseation (hey, I made up a word!) was the same notes, over and over. It seems I write alot about what I want to do. And then I write about it some more... Then maybe some more notes in a different notebook, outlining the same ideas...

It really brought me up short. The ideas are good ones (with a few stupid ones too, the ones that sounded good at 4am) but now it's time to DO. Stop taking notes and organizing notes, and talking about the notes and MAKE ART.

Hmmmm....

What are your organization rituals at this time of year? And do they help you, or keep you from doing other things?

Colorforms

Anybody remember Colorforms? This part of the process reminds me of playing with Colorforms as a kid. Only I played with them recently, and this is actually more fun! It's down to the wire for our first Underground Artist Holiday Sale/Open Studio affair this weekend, so I'll make this brief. But I also wanted to mention that I'm going to borrow a page from Carrie Cahill Mulligan's blog and host a Virtual Open Studio on the date of my actual Open Studio. (Carrie makes beautiful hats!) Stay tuned for more information.

Uphill Art

AAARRRGGGHHH!

I guess I'm back at that point where I go into the studio to begin working again, and nothing works. It's a clumsy, uncomfortable time, but it's beginning to feel familiar. Which is actually good, because it means I'm working more and more. It's okay. I'll get back into the swing of things. It's like in my mountain biking class: it's that steady, difficult uphill part during which I am cursing my otherwise very likeable teacher, and myself, for being foolish enough to think this would be fun...and then, then! I get to the top of the hill, and there's a slight downhill and I can shift into third, and start to cruise...and all of a sudden, hey! this is fun! this is great! I take back all those horrible thoughts of violence I had only moments earlier!

Haha!

Here are some photos of the mayhem that is currently ensuing in my workspace...I didn't get much work done, but I had alot of fun with the camera, giggling to myself in one could almost say a maniacal way.

Art is an Endurance Sport

I did a little ranting yesterday: on my blog, and at my Underground Artist's meeting... on the subject of yesterday's post, and I'm grateful to my fellow UA's for listening to me; they've heard this before. And thank you Kristen, for the observation that became this morning's post title; it's brilliant!

We were talking, also, about the appropriateness of a mountain biking class that B. and I are signed up for... is this "who we are"? When I identified myself as an artist, finally, it became important for me to also figure out who I was not. (I said I was a late bloomer!) I'm NOT a mountain biker, but I have kids, and they love nothing more than barreling along a sandy trail, jumping off of rocks. So I felt I should know a little more about this. And in the process, maybe a little more about myself. Do I have what it takes to make it through this class? Do I have what it takes to make it through this particular round of questioning my art; to make it to the next level of commitment?

Maybe papier mache isn't the end result, but at this point, it's part of the process, and I've got to start where I am. I can go anywhere from here. And since I had a middle-of-the-night insight into how to finish this piece, for now I'll just keep going...

In the meantime, here's a quote from Alyson Stanfield's upcoming book . . .

"The best day of your life is the one on which you decide your life is your own.No apologies or excuses.No one to lean on, rely on, or blame.The gift is yours—it is an amazing journey—and you alone are responsible for the quality of it. This is the day your life really begins."—Bob Moawad

How to Screw Up A Papier Mache Piece

Ready to screw up a perfectly good piece of art? Good. Let's begin...

First of all, it's helpful to start out with a nice family drama operating in the background. This will serve to distract you from your inner voice. A disagreement with a family member will work fine.

Next, you'll want to make sure to be working against a tight deadline. This notches up the pressure a bit, which will ensure maximum anxiety, thereby reducing the inability to create freely! For good measure, work only on one piece at a time. That way, the anxiety will be increased, as there will be no room for mistakes.

Okay, ready to start? Of course, you'll want to keep regular hours. But make sure to work over the allotted time, and keep going until you're feeling completely frustrated. Does the piece seem to have evolved into an un-salvageable disaster? Then you know you're on your way! (At this point, it's good to add a little something that doesn't work and can't be undone...)

Now, push on a little more....Starting to feel hopeless? No possible solutions? Good job. You're ready for that large chunk of chocolate you've got stashed in the back of the cupboard. And once you've taken a break from this exciting process, I guarantee that , when you go back and take a discerning look at your hard work later, you'll find you may not hate it as much as before!

Birth of the Art Helmet

I'm starting a new art genre:
the Art Helmet.

This one is based on candy corn (and yes, there was a thought process behind it, but I can't quite follow it anymore...). I went to the store yesterday to buy actual candy corn, for reference. And you know what? Candy corn is REALLY pointy. Much more so than this. So, the next ceremonial Candy Corn Helmet will be more pointy. In the meantime, we have the stubby version. Which I kind of like; it reminds me of something Fred Flintstone would wear.

The frame was created with chicken wire (can we PLEASE have another name for this product?) and covered with layers of paper and glue. The ridiculously tiny horns and edges are an epoxy resin that I first used on "Bear Your Soul". I'll post more photos as I go...

Shelley Hocknell and I are going up to Truckee to visit with Carole Sesko and her critique group tomorrow, and I think I'll bring this. The hubby says it's "not my best idea" but it makes me laugh every time I look at it! (I can almost hear the Vikings now: "Lovely Spam, wonderful Spam!")

Elusivity, Part ii

I'm not sure, but I may have done it again...
where I'm trying to improve on something I've done, but I actually make it more complicated than it needs to be.

Or not.

Maybe tomorrow morning I'll have a better idea of how I like these new necklaces. (I'd post photos, but my camera is up on a mountain somewhere, with my husband.)

Anyway, I was adding beads to the papier mache necklace pieces. This gives them a bit more visual "weight". I don't consider beading my strong point, but...I HAD FUN. I was going at it with my design training: shape, color, balance... Also, I squinted at them alot (really), and it got easier. I actually enjoyed myself enough to work through dinner time; not something I do often...

So, that is enough. If I like them, even better. And if others like them, and want to buy them, well, that'll be the best.

Elusivity

I have this bad habit of trying hard to improve upon something, and in the process, taking a step backwards. Sometimes the piece looks more "polished", but somehow it's missing something; those elements that make a piece "work" can get "polished" right out! Other times, the design didn't work for me, for some reason, and so I'll go off in a different direction. Then somebody will point out how much they liked the first ones I did. Or it's me, I'll realize that I like the original piece more. It's really a challenge for me to explore an idea, while retaining that sense of wonder that got it made in the first place.

Anyway, here are some of the new batch of necklaces I'm working on. They're not finished, just in process. And the same thing is happening; I am finding that there's something about that FIRST batch that I liked better! Although I really do like these. I couldn't sleep last night, and got up at midnight to play around with the little pieces and colors. It was actually alot of fun...hmm...maybe these DO work. But I still like the plain ones too.

More On Focus

Harry-Potter-reading-sessions aside, I've been thinking alot about focus, after reading some of Lisa Call's posts (see last entry). Sometimes I hear about another artist's way of doing things, and I want to be like them...but really, it's just about taking what you can learn from their process, and if it helps you, making some changes. I'm not like Lisa Call, from what I can tell. But I do appreciate her vision and focus, her drive, and especially her ability to scrutinize her process. As a former graphic designer, I can't afford to scrutinize too much; I know from experience that I'll scrutinize the life right out of my original sketches... But I would like to be more present with my own process, and get really good at what I do. I want to work at a higher level.

And I'd like to be more focused on my goals. I know the basic dreams I've had all my life. Sometimes, though, I try to push things through when it's not the right time...so there's that. How to stay focused on the long-term goals when it's obvious they're a ways off? Oh! patience, I guess...

On another note: when I read these posts over, checking for typos (yeah, I know about spell check; never use it!) alot of times they cease to make sense...does this make any sense to you?

Focus

This woman is focused: Lisa Call. Visit her blog for her post on what we sacrifice for our art. While I don't like the word "sacrifice", and I see it as more of a "balancing" of various elements of my life, I sure do respect this woman. Her focus and drive are phenomenal. It is making me think about my willy-nilly way, sometimes, of going about this thing I call my art career. And the attention to the details of her process makes me want to go into the studio right now, and really pay attention. And to really focus this blog.

I am somewhere between feeling inspired, and feeling unable to move.

Earn your Urn

The Big Idea I had for the ClayNichols Urn Show was originally called "Earn" and featured a collage made of photocopied money. Then I started working on it, and couldn't figure out how to make it work. So I abandoned the idea completely (difficult for me!) and just went with some other things that came along...My friend Kristen thought it might come back around, but I couldn't see how.

Well, the urn IS becoming the "Earn", in a roundabout way. I was playing with some of the elements this morning, and I glanced over at the scraps of photocopied bills, and went "aha" in that way that your whole body knows THIS is going to work... a quick little jolt of excitement.

I'm so excited to finish it now. I don't think I'm even going to keep going with my back up-urns until I get this one done, because I think I can pull it off. I've posted some working photos here...this is NOT how I usually go about things, but I had to get the elements on there to see if they were going to work together!

(My son just informed me that I should not use the money on the urn....hmmmm....)

Keep Going, and in Different Directions

My "Earn" is turning out to be more of an "urn"...

I had this clever idea for the urn I'm creating for the ClayNichols Urn Show (see sidebar). It was going to be called "Earn" and be made with images of money; maybe it still will. But right now it's not going that way. I haven't been able to make the money part of it work, quite. And suddenly that pink scrap of tissue looked a heck of a lot better, next to the green areas I painted already. I struggled:

"But I had this terribly clever idea!" vs. "This pink has intriguing possibilities!"

I didn't get anywhere with this yesterday, except to realize that art has a life of it's own, if you let it. (My design background left me a tad goal-oriented, so this was actually a big step.) I was thinking of Dale Chihuly, and how he does these amazing sketches, but then lets the pieces go off in different directions, if they want to ...

And my urn wants to go off somewhere else...