Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Where Wings Come From

When I was a child, I was not very good at discerning what was real from what wasn't.  My parents often remarked that I had "lots of imagination." In some ways, I suppose it could have been an advantage, as I'm sure it must have been a large part of whatever combination of influences and  natural proclivities ultimately made me choose the life path of an artist.  I would lay awake at night, convinced that there were all sorts of monsters inhabiting my room. After finally exhausting my parents' patience, I knew there was no use calling them for help; grown-up eyes were obviously unable to see these creatures, and they were no doubt bound to tell me to go to sleep, because there was "no such thing" as monsters.  And though I tried very hard to convince myself that my parents were right, the monsters disproved this theory by continuing to appear in my room after dark.


Callanish Stones on All Souls Night



 Chrysalis
 
  
When I was about six, my next door neighbor and so-called 'best friend' revealed to me that I was actually an alien from another planet who had secretly been left here and adopted by Earthlings - the man and woman I now mistakenly regarded as my parents. Soon, she said, my real alien parents would return for me, snatch me from my bed at night, and take me back to my home planet.  Absurd as it seems, I believed her. I did not tell my parents about this - I don't remember why - but I must have driven them crazy with my frequent nightmares and tearful pleas to sleep in their room. I don't know how long it was until I got over this fear, because as we all know, child years and adult years are not at all the same, but it felt like a very long time to me.


Icarus Reborn


I was thinking about all of this today because I have started another piece depicting a person with one wing. It's a theme/motif I've been working with for many years, and is for me a deeply personal symbol of my inner self.  I knew these winged or half-winged figures were emotionally connected to me, but at first I thought they were just a representation of my favorite fairytale, Hans Christian Anderson's "The Wild Swans", which I had read over and over again as a child.


 A wonderful illustration from the story, by Russian illustrator Nadezhda Illarionova.

Here's a short summary, if you don't want to read the whole story, but it basically involves a girl whose 11 brothers have been turned into swans by - who else? - their wicked stepmother.  A fairy tells their sister she can reverse the spell by knitting shirts out of nettles for her brothers, but of course everything goes wrong, and she has to dress them in the shirts before the last one is finished, leaving the youngest brother with one wing instead of an arm.



Book of Dreams, first page spread


At some point, I realized that that, subconsciously, the one-winged figures represented more than an attachment to a favorite storybook character; on some deeper psychological level, I identified with them.  Too bad Carl Jung's not around to figure that one out, I thought. I briefly researched Jung's archetypes, but none of them seem to shed any light on this. Perhaps I unconsciously see myself as  not fully human; it's true that in many ways animals make more sense to me than people do. Some sort of transformational process feels closer to the mark, though; maybe it represents the hope for change, a desire to become something better than I am. Or, could it be that my neighbor's alien theory wasn't so far off after all...? :~)


Anyway, here is the new piece thus far:



No, she doesn't have a wing yet - but stay tuned; I will post any further progress as it happens.


Saturday, September 7, 2013

Lessons





Well, it's the beginning of a new school year, i.e. "real job" (thanks to Deb Eck for that terminology) which has, of course, gotten me thinking about lessons. My great hope has always been that somehow I'll be able to teach my students something that they'll take with them, just one little thing that might benefit them for the rest of their lives. I'm not talking so much about academics as I am about how to live -  how to become the person they truly want to be. It may be a pretty tall order, but it seems to be what they need more than anything.



Here's an example. Back when I used to teach art, one of my greatest sources of frustration was the students' wastefulness. They would draw one line in the middle of a piece of paper and then say, "I messed up. I need another piece of paper." This would inevitably lead to Lesson # 1: Why Paper Has Two Sides. You would think this would occur to them, but for some reason, it does not.
Unfortunately, there were always some who repeated their mistakes on both sides of the paper. I tried not to give out extra paper at all, but two pieces was the absolute limit. Of course, this became Lesson # 2: Don't Waste Paper, Because We Do Not Have an Endless Supply of Trees.



One day, a little boy who made a regular habit of this came and asked me for another piece of paper- again. I'm not sure if it was his first or second piece, but in my exasperation, I told him he couldn't have one.  "Think about it," I said. "You can probably figure out a way to fix it if you try."



I promptly forgot about him, being very preoccupied with helping the other 28 kids who had their hands raised. A little while later, he came up to me with a big grin on his face. "Look! I fixed it!" He was very excited about it, so I can only assume that this was a new concept for him. It was then that I realized that he had learned something much more important than anything he would ever learn about art itself: Lesson # 3: Creative Problem Solving - Thinking About Things in a Different Way. 



I'm not saying that this one experience changed his whole life, but it's possible that some little spark of a concept had entered his consciousness (or subconscious), and that in the future, instead of immediately giving up, he might be more inclined to look for other, more creative solutions.



This takes me to Lesson # 4: Don't Give Up!  This is the hardest lesson for my students to learn, because I don't teach art now, I teach kids with learning and behavior disorders. My students are failed learners; it's a prerequisite for qualifying for Special Education. For the most part, they have already given up. And so I ask myself, How can I convince them to keep trying?  Why should they believe me when I say they have to persevere, if they have never seen the evidence?



 They don't have enough experience to realize that everyone is good at some things, and bad at others. They don't understand that most people who are good at something got that way mainly because they practiced - a lot.



 All they can see is that for them, every day is a struggle, and everywhere they look are people who are more successful at school than they are, without trying nearly as hard.  It's difficult for me to explain to them that everything we do in life has a learning curve, when their curve is so much larger than most. And how do I tell them that although they may someday get to do something they're really good at, they have to first make it through school? And that whatever that something is, they're probably not going to be good at it at first, but that they may indeed fail many times before that happens.



I'm pretty sure my students don't know who most of these people are, but it makes a case for perseverance, doesn't it?




It is. Really.










Wednesday, August 7, 2013

Doors of Perception


 “There are things known and things unknown and in between are the doors of perception."
                                                                                               ~ Ray Manzarek of the Doors, 1967












Art and religion, carnivals and saturnalia, dancing and listening to oratory—all these have served, in H. G. Wells’s phrase, as Doors in the Wall. And for private, for everyday use there have always been chemical intoxicants.
                                                                                      Aldous Huxley, The Doors of Perception, 1954







Doors of Perception

ingredients: vintage book covers, vintage book page, vintage used envelope, image transfers, acetate, acrylic ink, watercolor pencils, metallic and nonmetallic artist pens, mica, leaf, found objects, milagros, stitching, glass beads, brads, beads, electrical resisters, vintage key




If the doors of perception were cleansed every thing would appear to man as it is, infinite. 
For man has closed himself up, till he sees all things thro’ narrow chinks of his cavern.
                                                                  ~ William Blake, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, 1790




reference: http://quoteinvestigator.com/2010/11/17/rock-doors-between/

Monday, August 5, 2013

A Long Goodbye

My yard was once an ash grove, full of majestic, mature trees that graced us with their beauty and cool shade.


The largest one, a huge old tree next to the deck in the back yard, was my favorite.





Because of it, the deck was shaded almost the entire day. I used to work out here for hours on end, making sculptures from grapevines and copper.
 


For the dogs, it made a lovely, cool place to rest up after a strenuous game of  "keep-away-fetch"...



 and for the birds, a perfect spot for their favorite cafe.


But last summer, we noticed the ash trees were not doing well, and this spring they looked even worse. The tree dude (I think the proper term is arborist?) confirmed my worst fears: it was emerald ash borer, and the trees were already beyond help. In case you're not familiar with this problem, here's a short explanation from Wikipedia: "Agrilus planipennis, is a green beetle native to Asia and Eastern Russia. Outside its native region, the emerald ash borer is an invasive species, and Emerald ash borer infestation is highly destructive to ash trees in its introduced range... larvas' bore holes essentially disrupt the flow of nutrients as they rise up the trunk from the roots to the crown via the phloem (the tree's vascular structures) just under the bark. This eventually results in the death of the tree. This can take place over a number of years, and the first noticeable sign is usually some die back in the crown of the tree. The tree will usually be dead by the following year or soon after. In areas where the insect is invasive and has no natural predators, it can and usually does have a devastating effect on the local ash tree population." My trees would have to be cut down, and for the ones near the house, the sooner the better.

I was very upset.  In fact, the lush forest-like yard was one of the primary factors in my decision to buy the house 25 years ago, and I had come to regard the trees as dear friends. People just didn't seem to get it, though. One person suggested that I should, "grow up and get over it", but it's taking longer than I thought it would. I'm working on it.


When I was working on my BFA, we had to keep sketchbooks for virtually every class. Here's a sketch I drew of my favorite tree- well, part of it- the whole drawing wouldn't fit on the scanner.

After I'd finished sketching it, my daughter, who was then about 5, pointed at the tree and said, "Mommy, you forgot something."  I hadn't included the swing in my drawing, and it was very important to her. When my children were too small to get on by themselves, I used to sit on the swing with one of them facing me on my lap, put my arm around them, and swing them as high as I dared. So I added the swing, to please my daughter, and because it reminded me of the happiness I'd felt then.



We had the 3 ash trees nearest the house cut down, and sadly, this is that tree in its current condition. The trunk is 40 inches in diameter- too big to fit through the portable saw mill we hired to cut the trunks into boards.


The yard is almost totally cleaned up now; a couple of weeks ago, the whole thing looked like this.



The saw mill was pretty amazing, though. Here, he's adjusting the log to make sure it's in the proper position.




Here, the blade is just clearing the end of the log.




And here's what our garage looks like right now.


I am learning to say goodbye; it's just going to take some time...



Friday, July 26, 2013

Stuck in the Middle Again...

I have been steadily working whenever I get a chance.  In the past, there were far too many times when I'd get 'stuck' while working on a piece - just couldn't figure out what to do next to save my life.  I would waste time fighting with it, trying this or that idea, and hating them all.  A good solution, I thought, would be to work on more than one piece at a time, so that I could let one rest while I attended to another, thus lessening the frustration as well as giving it time to percolate in the back of my mind. This also keeps me from wasting time, which is at a premium. I'm sure many of you do this, and it's generally a very good strategy.

However, I have now reached this impasse with 2 pieces at once.  Story of My Life, which I showed you at an earlier stage of unfinished-ness, has come a little further, but then ground to a halt again.






The other one I'm currently working on is this, with the working title Doors of Perception:




The problem with mixed media is that you may not have exactly the right 'thingamajig' or 'whatchamacallit' you need in order to complete the piece to your satisfaction. One thing that helps when doing this type of work is to have a wide variety of materials available. The more stuff you have to choose from, the greater the odds that you'll have the perfect object or material in your studio.  Unless you have so much that you can't find anything, which is a whole other sack of potatoes. The other drawback is that you may be regarded as a hoarder.  My kids are not shy about telling me this; other people are probably thinking it, but are too polite to say so.


So, in the meantime, what do I do? Start on another?  Make pesto?


Sunday, July 21, 2013

Kentucky Guild of Artists and Craftsmen's New Gallery

Wednesday, I drove to Berea, Kentucky to volunteer at the Kentucky Guild of Artists and Craftsmen's new gallery. According to their website, KGAC was established in 1961, and is "a dynamic membership organization comprised of the finest artists, craftsmen, collectors, galleries, interested individuals and businesses in Kentucky and surrounding states." The Guild works to "preserve and promote the rich heritage and exciting future of art and craft. The KGAC headquarters is located in Berea, Kentucky, officially designated as the "Art and Craft Capital" of Kentucky."


 Log cabin outside the tourism center.


Here are a few of the galleries and shops in the Old Town Artisan Village.









This newly renovated building, located at 116 North Broadway Street, is the first permanent home of the Kentucky Guild of Artists and Craftsmen.


 Enjoy a bit of a virtual tour of the spacious and beautiful gallery:








































As you can see, there is a lot to look at - even more gorgeous, high-quality work than I was able to show here. I'm very proud to be a member of this wonderful group of talented professionals.


If you'd like to see more of beautiful Berea, take a look at one of my previous posts, here.