Sunday, February 7, 2016
So many things to write about and such a terrible gap between postings. The problem is the insinuation of my iPad into my everyday life to the exclusion of the Big Computer. The former is an ok vehicle for posting, the latter, the best. I vow to change.
So, where have I been in the miles that have gone -- foremost, to an artists' residency at Pilchuck Glass School, which demands a long and intimate post. Forthcoming...
For now, here is another exploration of line, deep casting, color. Meeting Place (the title suggested by one of the residency mentors, Steve Klein -- my suggestion was a linear-thinking and dull "River/Mountain.")
More to follow.
Wednesday, September 9, 2015
Wednesday, September 2, 2015
Saturday, August 29, 2015
The New Mexico residency is alive and well and living in my workshop, a riot of the colors of the land and its spirit.
On most mornings during the time at Ghost Ranch, we hiked the myriad trails that offer wildly divergent scenes. A sylvan path leading to a shimmering lake that reflected the hues of reeds, bushes, trees and stone that surrounded like a parfait of grace. A steep hike open to layers of sediment forming rocks and crevices and jagged mountains of red orange.
The goals of the residency creators, Steve Klein and Richard Parrish, were to create an atmosphere that would inspire us in turn to create "abstractions of place" -- after Ghost Ranch, we went to a Bullseye Glass Resource Center in Santa Fe for several days to set up glass experiments that were born of our time at Ghost Ranch. Mine were simple and straightforward. I felt a sense of glee, just thinking about this place, and my fellow residents, one of whom one year later has become my close compadre.
Now the work is emerging, and is a stark change from the iceberg-inspired glass with its cool frozen hues. It feels good to embrace warm hues, study the interaction of sky and land.
I am feeling that glee again, almost a year after the residency. Lucky me.
Sunday, August 2, 2015
Thursday, July 30, 2015
Time. A friend.
During the artists' residency in New Mexico last fall, we spent the first six days at Ghost Ranch, smack dab in the middle of the vistas that populated much of Georgia O'Keefe's work. In the distance, the Pedernale mesa was ever present. As we went on various hikes, I would always try to situate myself in relation to it -- it felt like a magnetic force.
The Pedernale was O'Keefe's favorite. She claimed it was her own land, and her ashes are scattered there. I understand the force now.
The piece pictured above is my homage to O'Keefe and her beloved land form. The sandblasted finish, I think, honors the mystery of place. I can't stop looking at it, the mesa (now in my photos only) and the glass.
This is the first New Mexico themed piece I have created since the residency. A long incubation time -- our mentors Richard Parrish and Steve Klein said it might be some time before works came to us that would directly be born of the New Mexico experience. They were very wise indeed.
Friday, July 17, 2015
It turned out that the area was the result of an experiment I had done using crushed glass---frit--and I had not liked the area either (nor did my husband!). The frit had risen to the top and just looked like some errant flour-fingerprint.
So, I sandblasted it off, refired to seal the sandblasting, re-polished the edges, and voila, my friends get their piece sans smudge!