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Hand Forged Vessels
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Monday, March 31, 2003 |
(total time today working on actual bowls: 1 3/4 hours)
The actual work was pleasant and good. But I learned for sure that starting in the morning is better. This morning we had a cold spell - 40 degrees F. in the studio when it's been a pleasant 50 degrees or warmer. I went down first thing, but decided to come back up to the cabin office to do some computer work while the acetylene warmed up. (I warm the acetylene tank with a quartz heater in winter.)
I did accomplish some challenging computer work for a client. It was nice to earn some money to help pay for the paint that was delivered today. But I could clearly feel the difference between "post-computer" energy and "fresh morning" energy. After doing the computer work for two hours or so, my shoulders were tense and my mind felt sort of frayed. This didn't make studio work impossible, but the difference in state of being was easy to discern.
So - studio work first is clearly the way to go, cold mornings or not. Of course once the weather really warms up, I'll have even more incentive to start in the morning. When the day gets hot, around 80 degrees F., I really have trouble getting myself to light a fire. It actually helps to hide all the thermometers then so I can't see them! But that's a challenge for later. Recently I've had ideal temperatures for working with hot iron.
My mind still feels a little frayed from computer work. Did some more late afternoon. Did more after supper, then got myself to stop. I want to wake up thinking about bowls I'm making, not about websites and databases. When I do too much computer work, I dream about it. Now that really gets tiresome. Even in the dream I'm dimly aware that all the work I'm doing isn't really "going into the computer." But I'm working away at the keyboard all night anyway. Exasperating. So right now I'm going to shift into Art Mind.
8:29:44 PM 
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Sunday, March 30, 2003 |
(total time today working on actual bowls: 2 3/4 hours)
Did a few courageous things in the forge today. It's handy to have those earlier drafts still around, so I can practice a technique on those first. Actually, it looks as if at least one of those earlier drafts can be rescued as the start of a new bowl sculpture. Maybe all of them can. So I'm glad I didn't make myself unhappy about them earlier. (Well ok, I did make myself unhappy about them at times, but I was able to stop.)
This morning I woke thinking about my work. Then I realized that this is now routine. Halleluiah! I wake every morning thinking about work in progress. This is exactly what I've been wanting.
This morning, too, I found that it was actually easier and more natural to go straight to the studio, than to stay in the cabin and go to the computer. I'm starting to get the momentum for which I've been longing. The secret, of course, is that it comes not so much from longing, as from action.
8:26:41 PM
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This morning my confusion over exercise came to a peak. What weight lifting routine to use? How on earth can I work in time to walk or do cardio tapes etc.? What are my fitness priorities, really?
I used my favorite online prioritizer to settle it. As usual, I found some surprises. Often when I use this prioritizer I find that what I've been thinking of as #1 priority is really somewhere in the middle of the list. I'd been thinking that energy was my top fitness priority right now, but it's really #5 out of ten. Top priority is plain old overall health. Heart health is second because that's really a life or death fitness concern. If I were lying in the hospital after a heart attack, I wouldn't be worried about my posture, would I?
This process ended up resolving some issues about diet, too. I recommend the prioritizer without reservation. I usually just click on the simple example and change the list to whatever I want. Before you do the actual prioritizing process, you also have a chance to change the question to anything you want. Just be sure to make each item on your list short. Otherwise you won't see the whole phrase later in the process.
11:44:19 AM
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Saturday, March 29, 2003 |
(total time working on actual bowls today: 2 3/4 hours)
Before the Internal Revenue Service gets too excited about the title of this post, I need to make clear that I just mean I resisted the temptation to start the morning by working on my tax returns instead of making art. That tells you something, doesn't it? If working on tax returns gets a definite aura of attraction? Artmaking does get scary at times.
I did go to the studio though. Looked at the results of yesterday's technical experiments and got clear on how I want to do the rest of this piece. Got bogged down at one point on whether or not I need shorter drill bits to reduce the wobble. Accurate holes through the side of small round bars are not going to be easy, but are crucial in this piece. Really I think the drill bit issue is a detour.
Ended on a high note, clear on steps to complete and how to start tomorrow. Now, for that tax return....
1:24:03 PM
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Friday, March 28, 2003 |
In her autobiography, The Invisible Core, the potter Marguerite Wildenhain talked about how, every morning, she had to reinvent a world in which making art made sense. It's as if every morning presents what Eric Maisel calls "a meaning crisis." He talks about this in his book on creativity and depression, The Van Gogh Blues.
Some mornings this task of reinventing the world is easy. I wake to a world in which the sacred fire burns visibly in every tree. Other mornings, making art seems absurd, meaningless, futile. On those mornings, I need to reinvent my world.
I find that the way I spend my evenings, and with whom, often affects how easy or difficult it is to reinvent an artmakng world the next morning. May Sarton observed (I think in Journal of a Solitude) that it isn't necessarily other artists who provide the most compatible and art nourishing company. Trial and error seems to be the only way to find out what - and who - makes for the easiest morning the next day.
(I'll mention again that my book links to amazon.com are for convenience only. I don't have any affiliate arrangement with amazon and prefer to link to books there because of the customer reviews and excerpts often available. I shop as much at Barnes & Noble, and often look for used books at Bookfinder.)
10:33:55 PM
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Woke at 5 and couldn't go back to sleep. I could feel my tension and worry but no content. What's it about? Kept trying to relax, meditate, but never went back to sleep. When I got up about 8, I suddenly felt overwhelmed with tears and despair - as if everything in my life is wrong.
After a tantrum and a first cup of coffee, I figured this was just another attack from Resistance. If I feel upset enough, or don't get enough sleep, or both, I might feel justified in not doing my work. In fact I was tempted to start the day by doing my tax returns, so they won't be "hanging over me." But this would have lost a morning of creative energy. So I did go to the studio. Felt calm and worked well.
I think one thing that's troubling me - besides fear of doing my real work - is that to put more into my artwork, I'm putting less into other things. So I'm doing a poor to fair job on most other parts of my life. The pesky little dragon of Perfection whispers that this can't be right. Shouldn't I balance my life better? Somehow I got past this dragon and into the studio after all.
10:18:23 PM
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(total time today working on actual bowls: 3 hours)
Someone at the Crafts Report message board told me I was foolish to publish my journal online - to make my personal thoughts vulnerable.
Making art is publishing the state of one's soul. That's a lot riskier than publishing a few conscious thoughts.
5:49:22 PM
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Thursday, March 27, 2003 |
(total time today working on actual bowls: 3 1/4 hours)
Two or three times I started to get discouraged. ("Am I going around in circles? Did I just undo what I'd achieved earlier?") Caught it and reversed it by asking myself "OK, what thought would make me happy right now?" Right away I'd think of something, like "This is going to turn out fine" or "Of course I can learn to do this" or "All these pieces will end up usable in bowls." If it made me feel happy, I grabbed it and went with it. Of course the work went much better this way.
Later I remembered that I used to say "cancel cancel" when I caught what I call a "detour phrase" running through my head (or right out my mouth.) "Cancel cancel" is probably equivalent to my creativity coach's suggestion of a loud "NO!" The "cancel cancel" has more of a groove already in my brain, so I may go with that.
After studio work, had a nice trip to get an acetylene refill. I now have a friendly, helpful supplier less than twenty minutes away. This is the kind of thing that makes my dream of moving to a more isolated place a little less attractive than usual. If a big bookstore moves in that close, I might be trapped here forever. :)
4:18:13 PM
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Wednesday, March 26, 2003 |
Last night I started rereading Steven Pressfield's book, The War of Art. When he started describing Resistance, I was struck by the resemblance to most descriptions of Saddam Hussein. "Resistance will tell you anything to keep you from doing your work....It will reason with you like a lawyer or jam a nine-millimeter in your face like a stickup man. Resistance has no conscience. It will pledge anything to get a deal, then double-cross yo as soon as your back is turned....It understands nothing but power. It is an engine of destruction...." (from pages 9 and 10.)
Perhaps you've read Robert Bly's A Little Book on the Human Shadow. If so, you'll remember how Bly suggests that countries have shadows too - and how wicked and powerful despots in the world can hold and embody all the evil that the "good" countries deny in themselves. So what struck me is that perhaps Saddam Hussein (and other similar world figures) are partly formed out of the projections of individual "good folks." "Me good, he bad."
Bly goes on to suggest that one way to lessen the amount of projected shadow energy loose in the world, is to do one's own creative work. Creative work is one way to "eat your own shadow" and accept more parts of yourself. So perhaps just by going to the studio day after day, working, making art (or a book, or a dance, or a house) - this is changing the energy of the world.
To go to the studio day after day, or to the writing shack, or wherever it is one does one's real work - requires confronting Resistance. Pressfield calls this the War of Art. It's crossed my mind that maybe something about this current war in Iraq has wakened a warrior part of myself. This is a part of me that will go to the studio every day again and stay with it.
In the past I've been a fervent pacifist. I've denied any trace of a warrior in myself. Now I'm not at all sure that this war is wrong. It may well be the best course of action. In any event, while soldiers summon all their courage to fight in Iraq - the least I can do is go to my studio and make art.
11:08:55 PM
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(total time on actual bowls today: 1 3/4 hours)
After doing some computer consulting work, I went back to the studio. Worked another ten minutes or so to experiment on fixing spots in the bends that I don't like. I think this will work ok.
It felt good to start last night and today, catching up on some income-producing work. I liked taking as much time as I wanted in the studio, but I was getting anxious about finances. Clearly though, my "peak time" energy from about 10 a.m. till 1 or 2 p.m. is the best time to work on bowls.
It's tough for me to get started in the morning. That period from waking till peak time begins, is a problem. I can do computer work and earn some money, but then am apt to work on through my peak energy time and arrive at the studio late in the day and grouchy.
So I've started going straight to the studio most mornings. Once there, I'm in a fog. "Who am I, and what am I doing here?" I need a starting routine that I can do half asleep, so that when I do come fully awake I'm there in the studio, ready to go.
5:15:50 PM
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(time on actual bowls so far today: 1 1/2 hours)
And what a 1 1/2 hours these were. I wrapped the "clean" copper mesh part of this piece in plastic wrap and brought it out into the forge. Placed it on the best draft so far of the iron for it. Saw immediately that it's all wrong. The loops are too big. It's all out of proportion. The copper mesh part is overwhelmed, lost.
Instead of feeling devastated - "All that time and effort wasted, blah blah blah" - I felt liberated. I can make smaller loops, no problem, easier really. On a hunch I tried the copper mesh part with the first iron I'd made for it, a spontaneous piece that was so far from the wire model that I'd cast it aside in disgust. This piece has real possibilities. It might solve some problems at the same time - problems of how to hold the copper mesh part in place.
My first impulse was to take a break and celebrate this breakthrough. (You may have read Annie Dillard's book on writing, where she talks about the impulse, once you've actually gotten yourself to start writing, to realize that you've been writing for a whole ten minutes and to stop and take a break to celebrate.) I remembered Annie Dillard, smiled, and decided I could work on this piece a little.
It may or may not work out. I did it really fast, not at all carefully, so it's more like a sketch in iron than a real piece. There may be some flaws that I can't fix, that will lead me to set it aside. That's not the main point.
My main breakthrough for today is that the question of whether or not to copy the models, feels settled. The answer is no. It's fine to make the models, make drawings, even full size drawings. But once I start to make the real iron pieces, I'll do better to work spontaneously. This first spontaneous piece fits the purpose - to harmonize with the copper mesh part I'd already made - much better than the copies of the wire model.
This is why I feel liberated and happy. I'm glad I learned what I learned from my attempts to copy the model. I learned a lot about making graceful bends. I learned a lot about seeing the iron - always the main thing. And from now on I can work with the iron spontaneously again, with confidence that this is the best process for me even with these mixed media bowls.
This is just for my own process. It doesn't help anyone else find their own best process. Except that I can recommend making an online journal like this. I'm watching my own process better, and noticing more, since I started this weblog. Before, I made plenty of notes on paper, and wrote pages about my process. But it didn't move me forward the way this online journal does. I tended to go in circles, lost, when I wrote only in my own notebooks. Now I'm making some progress.
11:33:32 AM
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Tuesday, March 25, 2003 |
(total time today working on actual bowls: 2 hours)
Spent the first three hours ordering art supplies - four different orders. Glad that's done. Sometimes when I'm on the verge of making a big purchase I get anxious and easily upset. Maybe that's part of what was going on yesterday. I rarely have "buyer's remorse" but I seem to encounter "buyer's anxiety." Once I make the order, I nearly always feel much better. Beforehand, I'm under a little cloud of doubt, anxiety, and "should I really give myself this?"
Next two hours were in the studio working on the same piece. I stopped on a high note. This piece may work out.
If not - I've learned a lot and can start another from scratch. Today I could tell right away that even though I felt discouraged and anxious during most of yesterday's four studio hours, I did in fact learn something. When I first woke up, I could see the piece clearly in my mind. That's new. And I had a sense that I just have the feel of it now.
So that's good news - that unhappy, unpleasant time in the studio can still be worthwhile. I'm glad I stayed with it yesterday. Tomorrow I want to start earlier as it got pretty hot this afternoon. And it's only March! (I'm in north Georgia, in the foothills of the mountains.)
4:41:23 PM
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Monday, March 24, 2003 |
(total time today working on actual bowls: 4 hours)
This was a rough day in the studio. I may have learned something. I might even be close to finishing this piece to my satisfaction. Maybe not. It was one of those days when I often felt upset for no discernable reason - very little patience or optimism. Yet I didn't want to quit. Just kept on.
It's strange that the studio time was so unhappy because I woke thinking of the work with pleasure. And went to bed last night anticipating a good time in the studio. Don't know how all this good feeling disappeared.
Maybe it was when I got way into making new thinner wire models. I did come up with two backup plans - Plan B and Plan C - that will work pretty well and that might be ideas for later bowls if Plan A does work out. But I think I felt angry that I was spending time on Plans B and C - which felt like starting all over from scratch. Instead of making me feel more secure, it seems to have just made me mad and upset. So why did I keep on doing it? Another mystery....
I did spend the last 2 out of the 4 hours working again on Plan A. As I say, the piece I'm working on might "fall into place" beautifully tomorrow...or the next day...or it might not. I ended the session writing out how I want to feel as I work on it. And it looks good where I left off.
7:10:24 PM
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Sunday, March 23, 2003 |
My creativity coach suggested that the iron may be really wanting me to work with it - calling me, loving me, asking me. Because there are things only I can do with it. She also suggested that I post a statement on the wall where it will be like an encouraging friend.
While we talked about this, I remembered Ira Progoff's Mantra crystal idea. From a quiet, focused, meditative state, you let a phrase emerge - a sort of guiding phrase. You choose one with seven syllables. This is your mantra crystal. As you repeat this mantra crystal to yourself, you usually breathe in on the first three syllables, and exhale on the last four.
Long ago when I first worked in my blacksmithing forge here in the woods, I'd start very early. In the winter it was hard. My mantra crystal was "In cold darkness, fire burning." This encouraged me to go out into the cold dark, enter the cold dark studio, and make my fire. It also reminded me of my faith in the sacred fire in all beings.
After my coaching session, a current mantra crystal appeared: "Iron loves me, calls me to work." This makes me smile. It's now posted on the wall.
10:25:55 PM
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When I'm doing challenging studio work, I encounter the same two dragons again and again. Of course I meet them outside the studio too. There's the dragon of Perfection. "Only do thing you can do perfectly - straight A all the way - preferably the first time you try them, effortlessly, and preferably at an extraordinarily young age." My current age, 59, gives this dragon an edge. It's hard to think of anything I could do now that would make me a child prodigy.
The younger I was, the more chance I had of appeasing this dragon. I could earn straight A report cards, get good scholarships and fellowships, and make the dragon smile with its great big teeth. We seemed to have a good relationship. Starting to learn blacksmithing changed our relationship forever. Starting at age 30, I was never going to be a prodigy. The worst in my beginning class, I was never going to be teacher's pride. Appeasing this dragon never works for me any more.
The other dragon is the dragon of Order. "Never make a mess. And never, ever, ruin or waste anything." I've mentioned that I grew up in a household of careful thrift. It was also a household of immaculate order. This made it a very nice home in some ways, and very inhibiting and constricting in others. Mainly, I notice that when I ruin something now, or almost ruin something, I feel a stab of terror as if there were still a giant Caregiver who could be angry or devastated or both, by what I'd done.
That's the thing. I know I've gotten older and craftier and bigger. The dragons are relatively small compared with my adult size and powers. But often I feel like a child when I encounter them. Then they loom very large indeed.
10:03:58 PM
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(total time today working on actual bowls: 3 1/4 hours)
Also, I did some color studies, mixing "darks" from my core palette to make a near-black with some zip to it. This was for one of the steel part of one of the paper and iron bowls in progress. At the end of the workday when I took a 5-minute walk, it dawned on me that the steel will look even better as a dark purple, maybe with a little phthalo turquoise mixed in. Oh well - I'll need the "near blacks" for other bowls.
The 3 1/4 hours was spent on two "drafts" of the iron for the other bowl in progress. My creativity coach had suggested that I say a loud "NO!" whenever doubts and criticisms started to creep in. I used this several times. After yesterday's session I thought I'd established a patient attitude. It was well tested today. I ended on a positive note. Definitely learned one thing - how to make graceful, not kinky or wavering, changes in the direction and angle of loops. This is crucial. So that alone made it a good work session.
I told myself that even if I make this piece to my satisfaction in the next day or two, I'll still want to buy more 5/16" round steel. So why not just expect to buy some more next week, and release any concern about "wasting the last pieces?"
At one point I used a technique that's served me many times in the past. I sat down in the studio "power spot" and wrote out "Obstacle:" and then listed the problems I was having with this piece. (Usually I write about just one obstacle, but in this case, there were about six interwined ones.) For some reason, for me writing the word "obstacle" works better than writing "problem." After describing the obstacle briefly, I write "Options:" and start writing. I wrote quite a few options, chose one to try next, and went back to work. Writing in this pattern: "obstacle:" followed by "options:" usually clears my head and gives me a lead to follow.
At the end of the session, I used another technique that has helped me for years. I added some notes to my "6 month" list for this bowl. This is another technique I learned from The Inner Game of Music, by Barry Green and Tim Gallwey. When I start a new piece, I head up a blank sheet of notebook paper with the phrase "If I were making this [whatever it is] six months from now, I'd expect to...." Usually I even note the month that will be six months later, to make the idea more real and vivid in my imagination. Then every time I make a mistake, come to something that frustrates me, do something the hard way, etc. - I write the positive version, the vision of how I want to do it in the future, on the "six months" list for that bowl. This tends to turn every mistake, mishap, frustration etc. into something positive. And it sets a positive expectation.
So I ended the workday tired - as if I'd pushed to my limit - and happy.
6:32:19 PM
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Saturday, March 22, 2003 |
(total time today working on actual bowls: 1 1/2 hours)
Today I worked on the same piece and started another fresh. On this last piece I'm working more slowly and carefully. Have a sense of how to do this. There was no way to work carefully yesterday because I had no idea how to do what I was doing - at least at first.
This work takes a lot of concentration and care, but I felt fairly relaxed as well as intense - an odd combination but it felt good. Burned myself again slightly. Dunked my hand in cold water and it was ok. The heat travels on this fairly thin iron and when I'm moving fast, I grab it where it's black. It can still be very hot. (This is not news to any other blacksmith.)
Had to stop early to shower and go to a party. I'm definitely building some momentum with this. Felt confident today that I'll finish this piece. I may make it a number of times before I'm satisfied, but I'll do it. My concern is to keep up the momentum even after the iron for both these two bowls is shaped. While I'm painting it, I need to start more work in iron to keep up the momentum. When I get back into the habit of working with iron every day, nothing will stop me.
10:07:05 PM
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Friday, March 21, 2003 |
(total time today working on actual bowls: 3 hours)
Today was intense. I'm happy but tired. I spent the whole three hours bending one 9' piece of 5/16" round bar. This is my first time working with a piece this long. I held it in a post vise (a very strong blacksmithing vise) but kept needing to reposition the iron to make the loops. I thought I could use a mechanic's vise out in the middle of the room, but quickly found that there's no clear area large enough for even a 6' free swing. (This is something to think about for my Dream Studio.) There were many moments an audience would have found hilarious, as I heated, bent, repositioned, (dropped), heated, bent, (burned finger through welding glove), heated, bent....thought....
I was following the angles and loops in a 1/6 scale aluminum wire model that had been so, so easy to bend (with bare hands and pliers.) Of course this whole idea of making models (or maquettes if I want to sound like a real sculptor) might be a mistake. Then again, it was quick to make a dozen or more wire models, and inexpensive too. It takes a lot longer to make a fullsize piece, and I might still need to make twelve to get to the one I like. So it seems worth trying the model, then fullsize idea.
Therefore I kept up a certain level of peptalk. "Even if this one doesn't work, I'm learning a lot." "I can only learn to do this by doing it, and I'm doing it, so that's enough to be proud of." "Even if it's a bad idea, I'm following through so I'll find out one way or the other." Etc. So that even when baffled, frustrated, or temporarily defeated, I kept my morale going pretty well. Toward the end, I realized I was somehow seeing the piece much better. That's a good sign.
I stopped when I realized that I could work with the long piece much better if I had a second plain roller stand. I'd been propping up the long tail end of the iron with a heavy V-shaped stand. This worked, but it was very heavy to move, and of course the V kept the tail in place right when I wanted to move it to make a bend. With a lightweight straight roller stand, I could move the steel more easily horizontally while still propping it up in the air. Luckily my local hardware store had one in stock, so I spent the rest of the afternoon on a trip to town plus an assembly session. It's put together and looks good, so I'm ready for another go tomorrow morning.
Speaking of which - I've decided to try getting up to an alarm clock again. I've been luxuriating in sleeping till I wake naturally, but I end up waking up when my partner has breakfast. Then I usually get caught up in a wide range of morning distractions. I'm going to try what used to work for me: having breakfast and coffee packed up ready to go to the studio, so I can get up and be out of the cabin within 5 to 15 minutes. I used to have a deft, fast morning routine so I know it's possible. Wish me luck. I can be very dumb in the morning. (Well, yes, it's possible at any time of day....)
10:57:03 PM
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Thursday, March 20, 2003 |
I've mentioned that Wet Canvas is my favorite art message board. There's another mainstay in my art-nurturing environment. This is the painter Robert Genn's twice-weekly letter. When I see this in my email Inbox, I'm always pleased. I know I'll be stimulated and encouraged. Shortly after subscribing, I bought his book, A Painter's Keys. Even though I'm a sculptor, rather than a painter, I learned a lot from this book. Genn teaches much about living and working as an artist. He posted the first chapter on his site.
Each email letter has a link to a web page of correspondence responding to the previous letter (and sometimes to previous responses.) Artists all over the world post here. It's quite a community. You may well want to subscribe.
11:03:21 PM
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Practiced drawing the other bowl
(If I count this, then time on actual bowls today totals 2 1/4 hours.)
When I went back down to the studio this afternoon, it was clear what to do next on each bowl in progress. I wasn't absolutely sure about drawing the second bowl before working on the iron part of it, but after today's experience it seemed like a good idea. So I did.
I'm using my new Durer grid to do these practice drawings. Yesterday I experimented a little by doing one drawing (sketch really) using the grid, and some more freehand. I could see how much more accurately I drew using the grid. Also I saw the bowl differently, saw it more.
Question: count this drawing time as "real work time, really working on this bowl?" For now, I'll do it since the previous drawing practice on the other bowl helped so much. Over time I'll be able to tell better whether drawing a bowl is an essential part of my new process, or just a nice extra.
7:24:29 PM
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Making a new creative process
(time actually making bowls so far today, still the same 1.5 hours)
As if that weren't enough, I'm now thinking that yesterday's drawing practice - of this same bowl in progress - may have prepared for today's breakthrough. I'm really working out a new creative process in order to make these mixed media bowls. I had a process that worked for me, to make the spontaneous iron bowls. So I often feel discouraged now when I grope around, seem to waste time, need one technical experiment or tool or color study after another - and just don't know how to make these bowls.
I remind myself that it took months - at least - to develop the process for the iron bowls. And the paper and iron bowls are a lot more challenging, both in technical process and design. My standards went up too - both for finish durability, and for my own health and safety. Most of all - I kept pushing to go deeper, go deeper - not realizing I was pushing myself off the edge of safety.
So I want to be patient with myself, compassionate - and at the same time, keep moving to make a new process that works. It looks as if drawing practice, especially drawing bowls in progress, may be an important part of this process. Life is so exciting.
2:21:36 PM
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Mad with excitement....
(time actually making bowls so far today: 1.5 hours)
What a morning! I'd almost forgotten what it's like to feel almost mad with excitement. I'd dragged and pushed myself down to the studio with the intention of working in the blacksmithing forge. I went into the Nest clean studio to get a lid for my coffee. (Floor dust, coal dust, and steel flakes are unappetizing.) "How do these bowls want to be made?" It occurred to me to take another look at the empathic responses I'd done for one bowl.
Somehow looking at these notes gave me the idea that possibly, just possibly, this bowl would look good on a lighted base. I found my box of lighted base supplies, got out the bowl in progress, and tried it on a lighted base. No good. Maybe later for another bowl.
But in trying the lighted base, I'd also tried a quartz crystal sphere in the center of the bowl. Still not it. (I'd tried this weeks ago.) But while I had the box of quartz spheres open, why not take a long shot and try an amethyst sphere?
As soon as I placed the amethyst sphere in the center and stepped back to look, I felt a jolt of excitement in my solar plexus. The bowl now had heightened energy, radiance, presence. Wow!
To check the light base I'd also used the bent iron base I'd tried with this bowl weeks ago and rejected as not quite right. With the amethyst sphere in the bowl center, and with the bowl positioned just right, this base now looked perfect. Suddenly this bowl is practially done!
I had some joyful moments trying different colors of cord and wire to loop around the edges of the bowl. I found a great color I never would have expected to use with this. Now it's right because of the amethyst sphere.
As I was replacing the boxes of colored cords, it hit me that I never would have had these cords, in this full range of colors, had I not gotten so involved makeing paper medicine bags back in 1987. That's how I started my bead collection too - to use with the medicine bags.
I usually think of that year as a lost year, because I made production items instead of bowls. So it was wonderful to realize that this "wasted year" is now proving indispensable for the bowls I'm making now. What a blessing it is, when life seems to come together like this. Everything seems luminous, sacred, ecstatic.
By writing this now, perhaps I can encourage myself at one of the darker times when I believe I've wasted time, even years. It was Rick Berman back in 1988 who told me, "No time is wasted." How hard it is sometimes, to believe this. How easy it is at other times, to know absolutely that it's true.
2:14:27 PM
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Wednesday, March 19, 2003 |
Paint like a millionaire....
I like this. Just read it on my favorite art message board, Wet Canvas. It's a positive statement of my favorite artists' quote:
"Art can't be made by a poormouth."
(David Smith)
It's true that many of my artmaking (or artcensoring) fears have to do with wasting materials, wasting money, and ruining things. I grew up in a very careful, thrifty home. This was good for survival. Now that I've survived into adulthood, and want to make art full out, I need to be willing to believe that there's plenty of iron, plenty of paper, plenty of paint. In other words - stop poormouthing and make like a millionaire.
9:30:07 PM
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Posting my actual bowlmaking hours
Just had a wonderful, terrible idea. Can I count on the idea that no one is actually reading this journal? Why not post my daily hours here? And not just on my own computer?
What if I say I intend to work on actual bowls 3 to 5 hours a day, but I post 0 hours, or 1/2 hour, or post 0 for days on end? Aargh. How embarassing. Not embarassing enough to keep me on focus, necessarily - but maybe enough to nudge me a little.
Anyway, here's my intention: to start every morning in the hot studio (that is, the blacksmithing forge) and work there on actual bowls - right now, the two that I've started - for 3 to 5 hours a day. Only after that, will I do color studies or drawing practice, computer work, etc. I'll post my daily hours on actual bowlmaking here.
Probably no one actually reads this journal, but I'll never know for sure.
4:30:19 PM
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Drawing
Today I'd intended to get more intimate with one of the bowls I'm making, by drawing it realistically. In other words, this wouldn't be a slow contour drawing or a quick gesture drawing, but a "regular" drawing. It would be a way to practice drawing and gain intimacy with the bowl at the same time.
As I set up to do this, I became aware of the great "drag" on my energy. Maybe this was a mistake? Finally I remembered about trusting my hands. OK, I'd ask my hands. My hands said yes, draw. (I used a special technique to ask and get the answer, which I'll describe another time.)
OK, my hands said draw. I'd draw. Finally I started. Almost immediately, I sank into the trance of art. I had been anxious, tense shouldered, tight. Once I began drawing, I became calm, relaxed, open.
All that tension and delay, and it was so easy!
4:24:52 PM
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"You're only a girl...." - two dreams about what's holding me back:
Two dreams last night seem to be showing me what's holding me back from full immersion in my work. In the first dream, I found myself buying something expensive that I would never buy for myself, to please a rich friend's child. Right after that, I was in the passenger seat of a car; then a woman sat on my lap. Dreaming of being in the passenger seat is usually a sign of taking a victim position. Here, I became a human cushion!
In the second dream, an older man was patronizing me. He didn't ask me about my work or life, just kept bringing up famous women. "How about Eleanor Roosevelt? Do you admire her?" It's as if he had found only a very few women worthy of notice in his long life. Then, just as I was about to ask for another cup of tea, he asked me to dust the room before the rest of the guests came. Later, when they did come, I saw that they were outside in the sun, sliding down a watery slope into a beautiful lake to swim. (That's the "full immersion.") I decided to swim "later, maybe."
In contemplating this dream, I wondered who this man represented. What popped up is that he's my Inner Patriarch, the part of me who tells me "you're only a girl. You won't be able to do anything great anyway, so why not clean? Organize? Do the things girls are good at?"
That made the earlier dream fall into place. In that dream, I was buying for a child what I wouldn't buy for myself - and after I'd decided not to.
So I think these two dreams are showing me parts of myself that are holding me back from full immersion in my work. There's the part of me that automatically sacrifices to please a child, (perhaps especially a boy)even after I've decided not to. And there's the part of me that says "You're only a girl...so clean, organize, be helpful."
It seems as if both work on an almost unconscious level - so automatically, so "under the surface" that I believe they're my real urges. For example, my two recent posts have been on the theme of "organizing." And recently I thought I just had to spend time cleaning up instead of making art. And last night I was considering not going to a party, in order to accomodate a granddaughter. The trouble is, there's nothing at all wrong with these impulses on the surface. Order and cleanliness are good. Making children happy is good. It's the "you're only a girl so these are the things you do" that's the problem. And it's the forgetting that I'm invited to a party - a swimming party - that's the problem.
Rather than focus on the problem, on what's been holding me back, I think I'll focus on the beautiful lake - and that I'm invited - it's up to me to swim or not swim.
10:27:19 AM
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Tuesday, March 18, 2003 |
A visit to my Dream Studio, to ask about focus....
After sleeping on it, I still had questions about how to stay focused on my various projects while concentrating on the task at hand. Use Eric Maisel's method of posting everything on the wall? Use one of the other dozens of methods I've tried over the years?
I decided to resolve the questions by visiting my Dream Studio. When I do this, I'm making an imaginary visit to my future studio/home, a beautiful place to live and work. My conversations are with my Older Self, who's in her eighties by now, maybe even older. Naturally she's succeeded beyond my wildest dreams. So she can give me useful guidance.
This is the first Visit I've posted here. I'd been saving them for my "real" website, where I intend to put the whole series. But since I brought up the questions yesterday, I'd like to make my answers (for myself) available too.
Here's an excerpt from today's visit:
Older Self: So you feel like playing organizer, hmm? That’s a game you seem to enjoy a lot.
C: I take it you’re saying it’s unnecessary?
I posted the full visit as a story.
11:38:12 AM
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Monday, March 17, 2003 |
Staying focused
This week my creativity coach suggested I think about ways to post my projects and calendar on the wall so I can keep them in view. She's learning creativity coaching from Eric Maisel, who has long used four big whiteboards on his wall to keep his creative projects organized. My coach has started using a big whiteboard herself.
I've thought some about all the different methods I've learned and tried over the years, for staying focused and accomplishing what I set out to do. Basically they all involve some way to remind myself of what's most important to me, plus some way to organize what's important to me over time - so I'm not trying to do everything at once, or conversely, nothing at all. I usually favor 3-ring binder notebooks for my ideas and plans. Since I have more windows than wall space, and my office is in a separate building from my studio, it's difficult to post plans on a wall.
So far, all I've done is review options. I'm looking for something really simple. Maybe I'll come up with some kind of folding wall chart that I can take with me from office to studio and back. (I guess that's why they invented notebooks, right?) The main problem with a notebook is that I have to remember to open it and look through it. Wall charts have a big advantage there. Is my life really that complicated? It might be simplest just to go to the studio and make something? More on this later.
11:03:28 PM
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Sunday, March 16, 2003 |
Colors in my mind
I just want to note that this morning as I woke, I kept my eyes closed for a while and practiced with the color wheel. I could see every color I’ve been considering, both the ones I have and the ones I’ve thought of buying. (I know I’m using the word “color” when “paint” would be more appropriate, but for the pictures in my mind, “color” rings true.
Lying in bed, I took it for granted. When I got up, I realized what an advance this is. Last week I couldn’t have done this. I’d have had to get out my color swatches to take a look.
OK, it’s true that there are a few reds that wouldn’t be absolutely distinct in my mind, with 100% confidence. But I have 90% confidence about those too.
It’s as if, by leaving the paints out on the table in their circle, and by letting myself become totally absorbed in studying color and paint, my mind has leapt to a new level. Whole new mental patterns and abilities have formed. I’m very happy about this.
It has been a little annoying to have the circle of paints out on the drawing board for a week or so. All my clean studio space has been taken up with one thing. And I’ve worried a bit that I’m going off on a detour – the kind that will dump me out a month or two later, so I find myself sitting on the side of the road with my backpack, wondering where I am and where on earth is home and bowlmaking.
But maybe this is how I need to work. This feels like a success to me. There are some risks involved in any work process. Maybe the risk of a detour is one I have to take, in order to get the level of involvement and excitement I prefer – the thrill of the chase.
Bending a line into a circle: Free experimentation vs. learning knowledge & technique from others
There’s something else on my mind about this. You know how the color wheel is made by bending the color spectrum around to form a circle. Well, there’s a kind of straight line gradation in artistic development too. At one end, there’s free experimentation, bumbling around, exploring with a naïve and fresh mind. You don’t know what you’re doing, don’t have any instructions, don’t have any mental knowledge or pictures to bring to bear.
At the other end of this gradation, you know a lot. You understand the physics and chemistry of your materials. You know the techniques others in your field have used with them, and the reasons for the techniques. You’ve practiced the techniques yourself. You know the context: art history, the history of your field within art. You have a clear philosophy – not only of aesthetics, but of meaning and of life. You have goals – both longterm and for the work at hand. There’s probably more, but you see my point.
There are risks involved at both ends of this spectrum. At the free experimenting end, you may waste a lot of time “reinventing the wheel.” You may be frustrated because things don’t turn out to satisfy you, yet there’s nothing to give a clue as to how to change them in a direction you’ll like. There’s a sense of great freedom, but a great risk of being lost – because you were too proud to ask for directions or get a map.
At the knowledge and skill end of the spectrum, the risk is that you’ll lose touch with your own inner direction and development. Since there is plenty of contradictory “knowledge” out there, there’s a risk of just ending up confused, or getting into a sort of web of “I have to find the real truth about X before I can do anything else, certainly before I make any art.” And of course there’s the risk that you’ll end up following someone else’s rules, staying in a sort of art playpen, in a box – when you could be climbing a mountain.
All this changes if you bend this line around so these two ends meet. Then the knowledge you add, the technical skills you practice, are right next to your free experimenting. They add some options for your intuitive work. It’s like having a map in your mind of the United States, with a little grade school geography in the brain as well. Then when you ask your intuition, “what state would you like to visit?” your intuition has something to use besides random chance. You can still turn all the information over to your intuition, to your deepest self, for a choice.
As Robert Henri said, “the mind is a tool….” (The Art Spirit, p. 54.)
11:36:20 AM
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Saturday, March 15, 2003 |
Bruce MacEvoy's site: color, journal
This week I've gotten absorbed again in the study of color. Whenever I go through a phase of intense color study, I find it so delicious. It's as if I've been starving myself of color. So I devour it.
I've selected colors for various palettes to use with my bowls: a transparent palette to use most, a palette with mostly transparent colors and a few opaques for contrast, and an opaque palette (which I think I'll need when I paint on black.) Today I filled in my excel paint chart with more information on transparency, hue, value, and chroma. I used the Golden Virtual Painting Guide site as well as the Liquitex book, How to Mix & Use Color.
This work raised a few more questions, in the way any research usually does. So I did some google searches on specific pigments. Somehow I found my way to a spectacular website by Bruce MacEvoy. My ideas about color selection and use were quickly turned upside down.
I'd been reviewing my little stack of books on painting and color. Of course each book contradicted the others to some extent, but from the books and my experiments I was drawing some conclusions. I was pleased to think that soon my work would come to a satisfying end.
Bruce MacEvoy's writings about color perception, color mixing, and painting palettes took all these careful conclusions and emptied them out onto the floor in a messy scatter. No matter. I was excited and quickly started to print out pages faster than I could skim them.
The main conclusion, of course, is that the huge pile of pages I printed from his site is no substitute for going down to my studio and playing with my paints.
But I have a whole new set of clues. And my painting mind feels fresh and blown clean. I love this website. I'm awed by the work Bruce MacEvoy has done. And I'm grateful for his generosity in posting it on the internet.
His site also includes an artist's journal that I found moving and helpful. There are specific clues to how to avoid plateaus. Basically, it's about how to keep moving and developing as an artist. This is something I often think I already know all about. Yet I keep reading everything I can find about it. And I certainly didn't know some of the things he discovered. His site is both humbling and exciting - a great combination for growth.
2:40:56 PM
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Friday, March 14, 2003 |
Writing myself a prescription for happiness...
about 2 hours of color play a day - playing with paints
about 2 hours of paper play a day - exploring what the paper naturally does, and making paper bowls and parts of paper-and-iron bowls
about 2 hours of iron play a day - exploring what the iron naturally does, and making iron bowls and parts of paper-and-iron bowls
plus some drawing play
plus some walking, dancing, stretching
plus some computer play - for myself and for other people - editing photos, designing websites, databases, graphics, and more....
1:28:06 PM
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Wednesday, March 12, 2003 |
New accomplishments: angled holes, core palette start....
This week is starting off well. Monday I was able to finish some angled holes that run evenly between two pieces of wood or metal. They'll enable me to hold a round rod of iron in the post vise at a 60 degree angle. What I learned will be useful in making holders for other angles too. Angled bars are in many of the designs in my maquettes and drawings and in my head - so I'm very happy to be able to make these angle holders.
Once I realized that I needed to loosen and adjust two aspects of the drill press table at the same time, and not first one and then the other, it all fell into place. My hands just kind of did it while I watched. I'd chucked a 1/8" carbon steel rod into the drill press chuck, long enough so I could see if the drill bit would run true with the drill press vise. My eyes watched that while my hands did the adjusting. Luckily I had done one good angled hole last Thursday, so I knew my drill press and vise were capable of running the hole evenly down the middle of the two pieces of wood or steel.
When I make my "real" website, I'll write up my notes on this kind of thing, with pictures, so that someone else won't need to struggle with things I've figured out the hard way. I tried to ask the metalworking news group for hints on how to set up the angled drilling, but wasn't able to make my problem clear enough. Pictures would help a lot!
My other accomplishment for this week is getting a good start on a core palette. Years ago, I tried a lot of acrylic paint samples next to heat drawn colors on iron, to get a paint palette for paper that would complement the heat drawn patina. Now I'm also working with copper mesh. To my delight, I discovered that the same palette works for both. I did the trials independently and got the same results for both. Now I'm working with a much wider range of acrylic color options, too. And I've studied color theory and palette theory to some extent. Yesterday and today I worked on this, so I'm well on my way to establishing a new core palette plus one just of transparent paints.
Spring colors
Once I get the core palette established, I want to try some color blends and palette expansions to get the full range of spring colors. Already here in north Georgia, the maple buds are red and daffodils are in bloom. Soon there will be wild flowers and leaves budding out. It all happens fast. By May the woods here will be leafed out and I'll live in a different world. I want to see it all - and learn how to paint the colors I see. It isn't that I want to paint representational paintings. I just want the colors.
Last year I read a book called Colorist (by Kobayashi) which suggested making a year-round photo journal to record the colors in the environment. This appeals to me very much. Spring seems like an ideal time to begin. I'll work with my digital camera and take the photos at consistent times of day as well. I'll take some morning pictures, some at midday, and some in late afternoon. The image management software I use, Thumbs Plus, will make it easy to organize the photos in more than one way. I'm excited about doing this project. Later, after I've completed a year here, perhaps I'll create opportunities to visit other parts of the world to record the colors there.
7:12:08 PM
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Sunday, March 09, 2003 |
Why one work and not another?
Someone asked me why I want to put paper and iron together in these new bowls. I have no explanation. I just accept it as "given" work - that is, work that comes from deep enough inside me that I can trust it as needed by the world.
I believe that the very center of each of us is connected with the Heart of the World, with the Great Spirit, with God - and that work that comes from this center is given to us to do. We can say yes or no (or maybe) but in my experience, if we say no, it's not final. It's as if the "Hound of Heaven" is after us till we do the work. This is the work I call "given" work.
11:18:53 PM
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Intimacy with the art - another artist speaks:
Here's a quote from a post to the Creativity message board at the Wet Canvas site, by Dana (used here with her permission:
"For the first time, I finished a satisfying self portrait over an extended 7 day period. Previously it was impossible for me to keep going successfully with one work over an extended period of time. I always lost the connection somewhere in the process and couldn't get it back. I'm also more frequently able to consciously go the next step from previous sessions when I start a new one. Previously I experienced frequently what seemed like a total loss of my abilities on several different occasions. It was pretty scary. I'm developing myself at a faster pace and its no longer so hit or miss.
If I look at the difference between now and then, I'd say that more time behind the easel has given me more opportunities to get intimate with the subject and my painting. When the intimacy is there, everything flows. But before, I lost it so much, I think, because I was experiencing it without really understanding what it was and why it was important. And since I wasn't painting so much, I didn't have a lot of opportunity to experience the intimacy even by accident.
But spending more time painting showed me that the intimacy made the difference. It was like the sweet spot on a tennis racket. So once I knew what I was looking for and what it felt like, I could catch even the least bit of intimacy and keep hold of it more often.
Today's drawing class was a case in point, I just let myself fully experience the classroom environment, the model and his pose, the paper and the chalk. At the very least, I wanted the paper to reflect the sensations, thoughts, and emotions I was experiencing and especially the experience of being in that room looking at that model. I kept going back to that every time the drawing got difficult or I got distracted. The woman next to me kept saying what beautiful work I was doing and when we were almost finished asked me if I thought it was good. I was at a loss for words, I hadn't been thinking of it in those terms, the drawing wasn't good or bad; it just WAS. And that is what the sense of intimacy felt like; everything just WAS, and that sensation felt great."
This is the way my own artmaking has been sometimes - so I know it can be that way again. It helps to be reminded that this is what I'm looking for. And that spending time with the work is an important part of this.
10:59:53 PM
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Thursday, March 06, 2003 |
Paper and Iron Together
Someone asked me to say more about what I'm doing with paper and iron together.
For years I've wanted to make bowls that unite paper and iron. Back in 1991, I made two small "prayer bowls" meant to be held in both hands while praying or meditating. They were five-petaled metal bowls with paper collaged on the inside, and a mantra written on the paper.
I might still make some collage bowls, but you can see that this method makes the paper more or less dependent on the iron or copper. The metal is the bowl in itself, and the paper is an addition, almost just a decoration. More recently I may have gone too far in the other direction, because I've made a lot of paper bowls that just need iron to hold them in place.
What I'm after is making bowls or sculptures in which neither the paper nor the iron are sufficient in themselves. They need each other to make the whole. They have equal weight, so to speak, in the overall harmony of the piece.
10:30:18 AM
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Wednesday, March 05, 2003 |
Where I fell in love with Japanese paper - Aiko's in Chicago
In my story, A Love letter to Paper, I mentioned that Marge showed me a store in Chicago that had Japanese paper. I just remembered the name of the store: Aiko's. Now in Atlanta we have the Ichiban Gallery that stocks Japanese papers. Now too, most art supply stores sell a wide range of oriental papers. But I still treasure my paper sampler from Aiko's.
7:18:52 PM
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Creativity Coaching & Eric Maisel
Yesterday I mentioned my creativity coach. She's wonderful, but I don't want to say too much more about her without asking her first. I can tell you now, though, that we're doing this as part of Eric Maisel's creativity coaching course. You may know of Eric Maisel from one of his books. I've bought several, but have worked most with Fearless Creating. (By the way, I'm not an amazon.com affiliate so any amazon links I mention are simply for your convenience.) A few months ago, I applied to become a free "practice client" for one of his creativity coaching students. Last month, I was delighted to get an email from my new coach. Did I luck out!
If you're interested in getting on the list to receive free coaching during the next class, you can learn more about it at Eric Maisel's course site. He also offers a creativity newsletter and an interesting site.
6:13:52 PM
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Transparency
I never thought I'd be putting my artist journal online. Yet last weekend I felt such an urge to do so. Here I am.
It has crossed my mind that one of the bowls I'm making right now, has contributed to this change. It's the third in a series of bowls that | |
