Hand Forged Vessels
A woman blacksmith's journey to creative power, learning how to increase psychic energy, use dream interpretation, learning to work freely and fully - making hand forged vessels, hand-made paper bowls, tree spirits art, mixed media vessels. Categories include quotes on creativity, blacksmith training, and living a simple life in the woods.
        

Hand Forged Vessels

Wednesday, April 30, 2003

This morning I got really excited about my work again. So much is coming together. I'm seeing relationships among ideas and pieces that I didn't see before. My mind got very heated up! It was a delicious feeling.

Made a decision (or the decision made me) to go ahead and buy the scanner I've been wanting. My plan is to go get it in the morning. All the obstacles have fallen away - including my reluctance. I've been bumping into "but I'd have to have the scanner" so many times recently. Now instead of bumping into that little wall, I'll just open the scanner and use it.

After lunch I decided to do some computer work to earn the last April money. It's the last day of the month. I worked all afternoon, got absorbed in it, had a reasonably good time, but found afterward that I was kind of sucked dry. My artmaking excitement, my wild mind, had all gone flat.

Gradually this evening, after a nap, my art energy has come back. It's a good lesson to use that heat, that morning creative energy, when I have it. Ooh, I can feel it now, even at almost midnight. Life is SO good!


11:56:39 PM    comment []

I want to say a bit more about the Lynn Grabhorn book, Excuse Me, Your Life is Waiting. This is where I got the idea to ask myself "What thought would make me happy right now?" (See the April 4 entry.)

Her basic idea is that how we are "flowing energy" is the only thing that's really important. If we're flowing energy toward happiness, joy, ecstasy - then we create what we want to create. If we're flowing energy toward anything less - then we create things we say we don't want. She suggests that a "to do" list be replaced by a "to feel" list.

This sounds a bit simplistic, even preposterous, but it does seem to work well.

Also I want to note that the customer reviews at amazon.com are very mixed. Some people really liked the book, others scorned it completely. It reminds me of the reviews I read of Depression is a Choice. There were lots of reviews of that book that berated it even though the readers had just seen the title. Boy, did a lot of people get angry when they saw that title! I liked the book, myself. Once, after reading it, I pulled myself out of a major upset by remembering a sentence from it: "All my suffering now is self inflicted."

There's a sort of intermediate step between utter despair and "flowing energy of happiness" that the author of Depression is a Choice suggests. If you can't think of a single thought that could possibly make you happy, just focus your mind on something completely neutral. Choose something that seems to rouse a zero emotional response. For the author, it was thinking of "green frogs." (Now, just thinking about "green frogs" makes me smile.)


11:41:19 PM    comment []

Sunday, April 27, 2003

I haven't written here for a while - have been distracted by fun with family visiting from Mexico, then by a bone density scan last Wednesday that diagnosed me as having fairly severe osteoporosis. The scan was an initial visit to a center that's offering a 5-year clinical trial comparing Evista and Fosamax.

When I got back from the scan I started doing internet research on both medications, also on diet and bone building, etc. Went to the library and got a pile of books. Ran to the health food store (okay, not literally) and got some natural progesterone cream and some more books. Went to the mall and bought a Swiss exercise ball and some ankle weights to facilitate weight-lifting exercises when my legs can use weights too heavy for my hands and wrists to handle even with straps. (I'm not there right now but have been in the past.) In other words, I went a little crazy.

Finding so much conflicting information in books and on the internet didn't make me feel any more sane. (Did you know, for example, that eating soy is absolutely great for building bone, and also that it is absolutely terrible and keeps you from building bone? That's just one example of dozens of similar conflicting statements I found.)

My intuition kicked in and I reached for a book I'd read last month, Excuse Me, Your Life is Waiting by Lynn Grabhorn. Sure enough, this is what I needed. She talks about the "Hi Ho Silver" approach to trying to fix problems - trying to change things we don't want. That's exactly what I've been doing, running around getting more and more preoccupied with what I don't want - osteoporosis, weak bones, bone fractures.

I calmed down and am back to thinking thoughts that make me happy. I'm eating what I want to eat. I'm feeling strong and happy.

Had some fun this morning jotting down answers to what I'd do if I were only concerned about self healing and being healthy. Instead of the normal list of things I "should" do, what popped up on the list were:

  • Draw cartoons!
  • Paint - play with color.
  • Walk a lot.
  • Stretch.
  • Have a lot of fun with M (my life partner).
  • Have a lot of fun with family and friends.
  • Play badminton.

Hmm. This sounds as if pleasure in life, and having fun, might have something to do with health. How about that.


10:13:44 PM    comment []

Saturday, April 19, 2003

This morning I wrote a new kind of dialogue, one that my creativity coach suggested yesterday. It's a dialogue with the self who's already on my true path. This came up because I'd told my coach that for a long time I've had the sense that I'm living a life that's sort of parallel with my true path, but not on it.

After I wrote the dialogue, I knew at once that the next thing to do was to do some bodywork with a tape that a student gave me when I taught a small class in "finding your own way with iron" at the Folk School. The tape is called "Honoring Your Belly." It took a while to extricate the floor mat in the Nest (the tiny clean studio) but I got set. While the tape was rewinding I did some stretching to Pachibel's Canon. I found that I was tight and sore all over.

The "Honoring Your Belly" tape was wonderful. I had forgotten how to do some of the more complicated movements, and was too tight to do them anyway. But I could feel an enormous difference in my breathing. I was letting myself feel how much I'd been pushing myself - how tired I was.

Later I went for a slow walk down the ridge to the big stream. I was letting myself "waste time."

 I came suddenly upon a flame azalea. There's hope.


5:35:58 PM    comment []

Friday, April 18, 2003

I wrote a new dialogue with The Bowls almost a week ago, Saturday morning, April 12. But I got scared about posting it online and held back. I notice that I've felt a corresponding holding back in the studio. It seems as if the Wolfgang Luthe, author of the Creativity Mobilization Technique, was right when he said that censoring any creative impulse has an overall inhibiting effect on all other creative impulses.

This seems a bit tricky because of course it's impossible to take full action on ALL my creative impulses. I'd have to be a hundred people with one brain. I guess the trick is to learn to distinguish between choosing a focus ("I'll do this idea now") and censoring an idea ("bad bad don't do it ever.") The feeling is certainly different so it could be very easy to tell if I just pay attention.


4:14:39 PM    comment []

Wednesday, April 16, 2003

This morning I gave in to my fascination with the way dogwood trees leaf out in the spring. It seems as if every year I make sketches of the leaves springing up. There's something about it that really gets to me. Today I wandered around taking photographs. Maybe this is the year I finally make a bowl - or bowls - that follow the feeling of this leafing out. The dogwood leaves have such an upward thrust.

This branch tip is still on the tree. I just held a small canvasboard behind it as a background so the leaves would show up better. Later it dawned on me that a regular photo grayboard might work even better. Sometimes the white background tricks the camera into making too dark an exposure.

After just a few moments taking photographs, I started to feel very happy. Later I went into the studio and tried my new drill bits. Wow! Drill heaven! Thanks to the metalworking news group, I now have spotting drills, sharp top quality screw machine bits (that are extra short, for greater accuracy), and great countersinks.

I'm working shorter hours this week because my family from Mexico is visiting - a rare treat. My son has lived in Mexico many years - almost twenty - and married into a wonderful family there. He and his wife have come with their younger daughter, to visit me and their older daughter who's on spring break from Tallulah Falls School nearby. My plan is to work most mornings in the studio, to keep up some momentum with bowlmaking. Tomorrow, however, we're going to the mall! The Mall of Georgia has two big bookstores, hence the exclamation point.


11:13:48 PM    comment []

Sunday, April 13, 2003

I thought I'd tried everything, but this morning I found a new technique. I had waked up to an alarm clock earlier than usual, with the idea of getting ready to take advantage of hot weather coming. Cool room temperature helps when working with hot iron, so morning hours are precious.

But I was too sleepy to take hold. Finally I decided that if I was that sleepy after two cups of coffee, I'd just go back to bed. So I went back to the cabin and lay down. I gave myself permission to sleep as long as I wanted.

I didn't go back to sleep, but it felt wonderful to be lying down. I was in that dozing haze that's a fertile creative state. After a while I suddenly had the urge to do something - to cut ovals. This isn't something on my studio to do list, but I could feel that it was the next thing to do. I felt energy and enthusiasm and got right up to do it.

So this is my new technique: the Lie down till you want to do something technique. Dagwood had it right all along. For those of you who didn't grow up reading Dagwood and Blondie comics, Dagwood was a goofy looking husband who was always sneaking naps instead of fixing things around the house. He ignored his to do lists.

With this lying down technique, I won't need a to do list. That would save paper filing time too. Maybe even save a few trees over the rest of my lifetime.


2:48:02 PM    comment []

Saturday, April 12, 2003

Gwen John: A Painter's Life, by Sue Roe, is one of the best I've read this year. Gwen John, born in 1876, was Rodin's model and muse, and became a successful painter. I found this book sometimes illuminating, sometimes sad, always interesting. One thing that I realized from reading this and the book on Matisee: the Early Years, is how much these artists studied. They studied in classes, studied alone, but were just always studying. None of this "now I have a degree, let's make money" or "now I've learned this skill, let's make money." It was all about getting better. The money was to buy paint and brushes so they could go on getting better.

I used to feel that way - that the only reason I wanted money was to go on making bowls. I needed food, rent, and art supplies. What changed this? Needing my teeth cleaned....seriously, the main thing that changed it was inheriting money from my mother. That gave me the money to buy a computer, a digital camera, a beadblaster, my studio building, studio insurance - and to "raise" my standard of living. Instead of spending $40-60 a month for food, I started spending $150. Add clothes, moving from the studio into the cabin and buying furniture and appliances, books, and more computer stuff...and then more computer stuff....it quickly started to look impossible to go back to a simple way of life.

Anything's possible, though. Certainly living simply is possible. I just need to choose.

This isn't about being a "starving artist." Being a "starving artist" is now called a "syndrome" and is supposed to be a sign of neurosis, faulty thinking, or at the very least, not being cool. As Marguerite Wildenhain said, "But somewhere between the point when you consider buying a Cadillac or a mink coat and the point where you starve, there is a lot of leeway." (The Invisible Core, p. 161.)

How did I know the page number? Back around 1983 or 84, I started a looseleaf binder called "Wisdom" and took notes from books that told me something about creative process. Now I'm on my third binder, but Marguerite is early in the first one. Some of her stuff I know by heart. Best is:

"As fleeting as clouds are publicity, fame, and limelight, but the good pot will endure through the centuries because of its integrity, its sound and pure purpose, its original beauty, and especially because it is the indivisible, incorruptible, and complete expression of a human being."

(quoted by the potter Charles Counts, in The Crafts Report, May 1985, p. 3. It was through Charles Counts that I learned of Marguerite Wildenhain.)


3:57:14 PM    comment []

The New York Times op-ed section (online) has an interesting piece today comparing US work hours with Western European. It says that the average employed American takes two weeks of paid vacation a year, working a total of 1978 hours a year. Do the math: that's just under 40 hours a week, for 50 weeks a year.

By contrast, the average Western European takes five or six weeks of paid vacation a year, working a total of 1628 hours a year (350 hours a year less than Americans.) At six weeks of paid vacation a year, the European is working about 35 hours a week - but for only 46 weeks.

The article concludes that Western Europeans chose to use technological advances and improvements in productivity, to give themselves more time. And that Americans, as a society, chose to give ourselves more money and possessions.

I knew all this before, but reading it today is special timing for me. What does it mean for me personally, in my artmaking? For one thing, it means that I could stop thinking of myself as needing to work 50 weeks a year, at least - at 40 hours a week. A standard workweek for artist-blacksmiths is 6 production hours a day, plus 2 for ordering, cleanup and business - for a total of 30 production hours a week. Of course, sometimes sales efforts add to the total per week or decrease the production hours to around 24. I've kept this rough standard in mind, basically telling myself "if you can produce bowls for 30 hours a week, you can make a living."

Of course, this is just something I made up in my mind. I could make up something else to believe, that serves me better - and serves the bowls better. So maybe I'll make up a new rule of thumb: that I can make a fine living taking five or six weeks of vacation a year. It's interesting to consider how I might use that much vacation time.


3:26:58 PM    comment []

Friday, April 11, 2003

(no more time tracking)

When I woke this morning, something told me to take Robert Genn's book, The Painter's Keys, with me to the studio. (The link is to reviews at Amazon.com, but to order the book you'll need to find it elsewhere, perhaps via www.bookfinder.com.) I think this waking idea was sparked by reading in Robert Genn's recent letter to artists, about a woman who read The Painter's Keys, quit her day job to paint full time, and has been a successful painter ever since. I thought, "sounds good to me!"

My intuition was right. I had kind of dragged myself to the studio, the way I've been dragging myself there every morning this week - tired and without much enthusiasm. Reading parts of The Painter's Keys restored my zest for artmaking. I'm hereby liberating myself from the timer as well as from the clock. Robert Genn mentions that he's experimented with lots of ways to facilitating his work - deadlines, time tracking, etc. - and nothing works for him as well as asking what will bring him the most joy to do next, and doing it. He calls it "the joy method." I may not have his exact phrasing, but that's the main idea.

So that's what I'm going to do - go for joy.

Back in 1992, I renamed my blacksmithing business and actual studio building, Ecstasy Forge. I took this pretty far. For example, in my accounting software, Quicken Home & Business, I categorized my expenses using only two categories: ecstasy, and not. It still makes me smile to remember this. Of course, this didn't work for tax returns, so I had to take another look at the figures once a year. But for 363 days of the year, all I needed to ask was "did this expense bring me ecstasy? Or something less?"

Later I realized that ecstasyforge.com was going to bring problems as a website address. When I named my studio, I didn't know there was a drug called ecstasy. And of course the internet is full of porn sites advertising ecstasy. So I renamed my business a more prosaic "Morgan Sculpture" and will probably end up just with Catherine Jo Morgan, LLC. Ecstasy Forge was a great thing, though. Maybe I'll even get wild again and go back to it, at least as a name for my studio building. And I could still look at my expenses in those two categories, by using the "class" feature in Quicken. I bet if I do, I'll find out that about 20% of my expenses bring me ecstasy - maybe even less. (But probably about 80% of the money I spend on art supplies brings me ecstasy - or would if I'd let myself go for joy.)

So no more time tracking - except perhaps an occasional question: "what could I do now, that would bring me joy?"

Isn't this remarkably similar to the question that's been working for me, "what thought could I think now, that would make me happy?"

I will confess that I first came across a copy of The Painter's Keys in a bookstore several years ago. I opened it to a page on which Robert Genn said that if he goes to the studio and finds that he doesn't really want to work that day, he doesn't. He flies a kite, or does something else he really wants to do. I was so offended by this that I put the book back on the shelf. I was convinced that this man would lead me terribly astray. Ha! Pretty funny. Thanks, Robert.

 


1:47:04 PM    comment []

Thursday, April 10, 2003

Today I woke up thinking about the Seven Habits book - the four quadrants. Perhaps as an excuse to stay in the warm, dry Nest, I looked at how my bowlmaking "to do" items fall into the four quadrants:

  • Important and Urgent
  • Urgent, Not Important
  • Important, Nor Urgent
  • Not Important, Not Urgent

This felt helpful, so I made pages for bowlmaking career and bowlmaking business, too. I learned from Robert Fritz' book, Creating, to separate out the actual artmaking from an art career, and to separate an art career from an art business. They're really three separate things to create - with obvious links, but separate. It helps to think of them separately.

These lists even made me wonder again about getting whiteboards for the Nest, so I can see an overview of what I'm doing without looking at papers. Suddenly today I could see four different places, at least, where I could put whiteboards. I could even read them easily from my main workplace. This is interesting, because earlier I couldn't see a single place for one.

Long ago, I kept a very lightweight aluminum easel in the big studio (the forge) with a blackboard on it. I could move it around to keep it out of my way, yet where I could read it all day. Sometimes I posted a quotation I liked a lot. At other times I tracked my time.

What actually worked best in tracking time was to track breaks. If I started on time, and took a total of 1 1/2 hours for breaks, walk, etc., I could work an 8 1/2 hour day and enjoy it. It might take doing that again to earn money again as an artist. Or it might not. A better question, probably, is whether or not that's what I want to do. Making lists isn't really going to tell me that.


10:24:55 PM    comment []

(total time today working on actual bowls: 0 hours)

But I certainly have well organized boxes of drill bits, nicely protected from rust. (I like the Bullfrog rust inhibitors.) It turns out that I moved all the firewood out of the studio a little early. I've been here twenty years so I really know to wait till May 1, but I wanted the space. This morning it was COLD. And damp - raining. I can work around the roof leaks, but I really didn't want to be cold. So I filled up my studio time with putting away new things, jotting down ideas for that third bowl, enjoying being warm and dry in the Nest. (That's the 8x10' "clean studio," a well insulated room built into one corner of my 20x32' studio building.)

Then after lunch I worked on the computer, earning money. Made some strides with laying out web pages, which will be useful for my "real" bowl website. It wasn't a wasted day, and I've been happy. The time just wasn't as "thick" as I prefer it to be.

Do you feel the difference, yourself, between "thick" time and "thin" time? Thick time has a kind of depth and richness to it. It doesn't run through your fingers. It isn't shallow or easily forgotten. In some Christian theology, "thick" time is a taste of eternity. (Don't ask me for a source on the theology, as I gave away the book, but it was a very small, thin book about having plenty of time.)

Is a taste of eternity worth being a little cold and damp?


10:09:12 PM    comment []

Wednesday, April 09, 2003

Today I was driving along, drinking in the white dogwood blooms and spring green leaves all around. Somehow I started thinking about balance. When I first started this series of bowls (or "bowl sculptures") I noticed that balance was the theme. I began by taking photographs of anything in the woods that held my attention at all. Didn't need a reason. If I felt a little flash of interest, I photographed it. Pretty soon I could see that I was photographing mostly trees that lean, or branch in oddly balanced ways. The bowl sculpture ideas came from these trees. I'm fascinated by the way the trees balance themselves as they lean, as they deal with the forces in their lives.

As I was driving along today, thinking about this, thinking about the next bowls I want to make, it struck me as odd that a year ago, I completely lost my balance. It was last February that I slipped on the kitchen floor as I rushed into the cabin to get something to take with me. Usually I take off my boots or shoes when I come indoors, but I was in a hurry. My boot soles had some mushy snow on them. A plastic bag had fallen onto the kitchen floor. Wham. I was on the floor in less than a second. Cracked my sacrum, as it turned out, and broke my elbow badly, really badly. It took a while to walk again, to trust my balance. Still can't straighten my right arm completely. Can't touch my right shoulder with my right hand.

I'm doing OK though. It just struck me as odd that I lost my balance so completely, when I was working on bowls about balance. Odd.

Maybe I needed to learn more about it firsthand, not just from observing trees.


11:13:17 PM    comment []

(time today working on actual bowls: 0 hours)

Do I detect a pattern here? Seems like quite a few days now since I started by noting 2 or 3 hours of work on an actual bowl. I'm on the "critical path" (in project management terms) for the bowl I'm working on. The improvements in viewing area, drilling tools, and drilling skill will make a difference in how it turns out. And they're good investments for the future.

What's missing is work on SOME bowl if not on this one in particular. In other words, when I'm really rolling - full momentum, full immersion - when I need to NOT work on one bowl because I need a tool, or skill practice, or whatever - I'll work on some other bowl or bowls. What I found earlier is that two is good - but two is what I'm working on now, so right now that's not quite enough. Three is very good. That would bail me out now. Four is about the maximum and maybe stretching it a bit. I've done it but it tends to drag out the whole process a lot and it's easier to get bogged down. So let's go for three.

OK. If I don't get in time tomorrow on this bowl with the super duper holes to be drilled - I'll start a new bowl.


11:01:52 PM    comment []

Tuesday, April 08, 2003

(time today working on actual bowls: 0 hours)

More work on holes today. The order from MSC did come in one day - great going. I can see how the new tools will help. Tomorrow - practice day. I look in the crystal ball and see....drilling....


11:22:48 PM    comment []

Monday, April 07, 2003

Through the sculpture part of the Wet Canvas message board, I came across a link to a four-part sculptor's diary by Jan Michelle-Sawyer. She tells about her work process in sculpting a portrait bust. This is very different from the bowls I make, but I found much of interest in her writing.

For example, she starts by saying

"A good part of how I work, as a sculptor, rests in preparing my mind for the creative process."

This reminds me of the woodworker, James Krenov.  Then in Part 2 she goes on to say,

"Creating sculpture takes courage and a sense of deep confidence and well-being."

I agree with this in some ways - it has to do with that "reinventing a world" I talked about last month. But in another way, I think sometimes the courage is the key. The sense of deep confidence and well-being comes partly from just doing the work. It's no good waiting around till all that good feeling comes, before starting the work.

Well into the work, she comments, "A sculptor's greatest enemy is to rush the process of sculpting." This is interesting. There's a fine balance between rushing, on the one hand, and delaying or avoiding, on the other. But in a fast-paced, production-oriented world, it's probably true that there's more pressure to err in the direction of rushing the work. I remember how impressed I was at the 1989 Penland conference on design and iron, to hear Brent Kington tell how he'd move a piece he thought finished, into a different room for a few weeks. He wanted to test it, to see how it looked out of the studio. He gave the piece time to ask for changes. I thought most of us would have rushed to sell a piece as soon as possible. But his process struck me right away as better.

In her last entry, Jan Michelle-Sawyer writes exactly what I need next, now that I've finished my viewing area. You may have noticed that it needs light. (Actually, the existing light fell off the board so right now there's no light at all on it.) I was just going to move a portable light over to that area. But look what I was missing:

"I use all forms of lighting to help me "see," such as candles, turning off all of the lights and holding a flash light to the figure, full on overhead and flood lights, side lighting, frontal and overhead lighting. Any combination of light that captures curves, shadows and highlights of the clay is valuable in exposing the sculptor's work. Accentuating the depth, light and shadow of a sculpture is what brings the piece to life."

Candlelight! Flashlight! Wow. A whole world of lighting variations is opening up now. She goes on to talk about working on the piece at all times of day or night, to catch the light and, in a sense, the spirit of the piece.  "'Seeing' the sculpture realistically takes working on it at all hours of the day."

This was perfect timing for me. Sometimes it's as if all the artists and craftspeople in the world - past and present - were by my side, working companiably nearby, ready to offer a helping hand. Working alone in a studio, I can hardly be less alone.


11:28:15 PM    comment []

(total time working on actual bowls today: 0 hours)

Worked all morning on learning enough about spot drills, short drill bits called "screw machine drills," and countersinks, to order what I think I need to drill the holes for this piece. I might be able to drill the holes accurately with what I have. It's the "might be able to" that gives me pause. "I can make another one if I ruin this one," I tell myself. It's not very comforting, though. I'd rather improve my drilling accuracy overall. I learned enough to get a sense of what skill practice and experiments I need to do. I'm actually looking forward to them.

This was my first order from MSC, after having heard about them in the metalworking news group for years. Actually, (blush) I made two orders today - the first after a lot of catalog and internet searches, news group messages, and thought. The second was to order the things I learned later in the day that I really needed. Boy, when I become a customer, I really get going!

In addition to the piece I'm finishing, I'm going to use the new drills to start some ring bases. For quite a while now, I've wanted to start shaping some iron, paint it with primer and a white base coat, then mold the paper around it. So I've picked out four rings to drill for this. I'll lay out two rings for five staves (bars, either flat or round) and two others for six staves each - evenly spaced, I think. This is going to be fun.

While I'm at it - setting up pieces to beadblast and paint - I'll make some small round test pieces too. I just need some short pieces of 1/4" round bar, flattened on one end and drilled to hang. That way, when I want to see how some paint idea will look on a round bar, I'll have some test pieces to play with. I did some flat pieces last year - helpful and very exciting. Some of the color blends look fabulous - to me anyway. Little things like this help keep me going.


11:06:50 PM    comment []

Sunday, April 06, 2003

By last Friday it seemed silly to be trying to record each day's total hours spent directly on working on actual bowls. I kept losing track, forgetting to set the timer - and the boundaries got very blurry. It seemed very important to sit outside in the sun looking at the trees leafing out. And to photograph spring colors.

Today it doesn't seem so silly. I think I'm starting to drift a bit. I'm still thinking about the real work, and making some progress, but I'm missing that little nudge to get down to it. There are dozens, perhaps hundreds, of other interesting and even important things I can do. But it's the direct work on bowls will count most with me at the end of the year. (I've learned this through experience - sometimes happy experience, too often not.)

Sure - I need to really absorb this spring as it unfolds. Who knows? It could be my last spring. Of course I want to be fully present to it.

At the same time, the daily real work on specific bowls is what keeps everything going in a centered way. So tomorrow it's back to keeping track of actual bowlmaking time.


8:48:38 PM    comment []

Saturday, April 05, 2003

I took the new viewing area a step further by cutting a circular piece of white posterboard large enough to form a background for the whole piece I need to see. The sculpture stand turntable isn't very big, and it's black. Right away I could see things on the white background that I'd missed on the black. The posterboard sagged some, of course, so I replaced it with a circle cut out of white foamboard.

Here's the finished viewing area. What a difference it makes in being able to see what to do next with a piece in progress.

The sculpture stand is on sale now for $100. I bought it on sale another year, so as to be able to mold paper on a turntable with adjustable height. With these new pieces, it's really been useful for viewing work in progress.

Photography background paper would be a nice alternative for the background, so as to have no seams. But the two big sheets of foamboard will work well at least for now. I used screws to fasten them to the foil covered insulation board panel. I use these foil covered insulation panels as portable easels and as ways to tack up a lot of drawings or paintings in the studio. Sometimes quick India ink "analog paintings" with a sumi brush are just the thing for exploring how to communicate a certain feeling. But that's another story.

 

 


9:26:22 PM    comment []

Friday, April 04, 2003

In the last few days I've sometimes been doing some small thing in the studio (the big dirt-floored "hot studio," the blacksmithing forge) and felt just so happy to be there. "I'm Queen of the Forge," I thought, which made me smile. But it's true. It's all mine.

I'm not sure how it happened, but now when I walk into the forge I feel happy right away. All my pleasant memories and associations from twenty years here kick in. I feel at home.

Here's what I believe led to this happy state.

1) I started coming to the studio first thing in the morning instead of getting into other activities first. So I come with the night's accumulated psychic energy still available.

2) I started comng every day with the idea of working 3 to 5 hours a day. I started thinking of myself as a fulltime artist. (It grows to be fulltime because to work 3 to 5 hours a day takes more time to do the "support work" - getting supplies, doing studio chores, etc.)

3) I started sliding from unhappy, discouraging thoughts to anything that would make me happy. When I start feeling unhappy or just less than happy, I ask "what thought would make me happy now?" Something pops up and I grab it out of the air. It's like pulling a parachute cord. Instead of continuing to fall into unhappiness, I start floating with the new happy thought. This sounds too simple to work, but so far, it does work. And it seems to work better and better with even small amounts of practice.

 


11:41:14 PM    comment []

(Worked all morning in the studio - 3 hours?)

This morning I was inspired to write out how I want it to be when I look at the bowl parts to see how to fit them together. This is what came. (The working title of this piece is "Take Heart."

Suddenly I see it clearly - this is "Take Heart!" This is it! It's not a matter of "best" or "is this balanced"  - it's a matter of 'this is how "Take Heart" really is. It's the difference between idealism and reality.


11:35:06 PM    comment []

Thursday, April 03, 2003

(total time today working on actual bowls - lost track - 3 hours?)

I guess losing track is a good sign. I'm kind of stuck, though - keep looking at the piece different ways, from different angles, to see where two parts go together best. Made improvements in the viewing area (which will be good for future bowls), took photos and looked at them in the computer, looked at different arrangements through a reducing glass - still can't tell.

That reducing glass is a wonderful tool, though. It gives the reverse effect compared with a magnifying glass. You can be quite close to the piece you're making, but looking through the reducing glass gives you a longer range view of it. Often this shocks me into seeing something about a piece I'd overlooked before.

I'm still excited about spring colors. Seems as if trees are leafing out more every five minutes. I took a lot of photos, would like to paint the colors I see as well.


10:51:17 PM    comment []

Wednesday, April 02, 2003

(total time today working on actual bowls: 0? 2.75 hours?)

Zero or 2 3/4 hours? Today's work was borderline because I spent the time clearing space and making a way to see the new pieces in progress against a good background. I have a great sculpture stand with adjustable height and turntable top. It just needed a place with a white background so I can really see the work - and a place located where I can stand back from it to look.

I did this work years ago for the all iron bowls, making places so I can look at the bowls in progress at different heights - basically coffee table height, table height, counter height, and eye level. The new bowls are larger and shaped differently so I needed new arrangements. I worked very happily at this. My heart was light.

This morning the spring leaves were so beautiful, especially when backlit, that I took time to take some photos. Then I took time to sit outside for a while just to look. This gave the day a sort of blessing. I think that's why I worked so happily.

There are some improvements I'll make to the viewing area, but it will work ok now. I'm excited about this series. Making the new viewing area was a commitment to go on with these new bowls.


11:10:10 PM    comment []

Tuesday, April 01, 2003

(total time today working on actual bowls: 0)

Did errands instead. After that, cleaned up the studio, organized the paints.

It's funny, but yesterday afternoon I had a feeling that maybe I was on the run. I didn't come away from the studio feeling as strong, courageous, and satisfied as I'd been feeling. And I decided that I'd do errands in the morning instead of going first to the studio. In retrospect, I was indeed on the run.

I'm eager to complete these two bowls - have lots of ideas I want to do next. At the same time, I'm reluctant to complete any artwork because then it's Judgment Time. "What do you think? Is it any good?"

It's definitely possible to complete work and not enter Judgment Time. The more I'm just making the bowl however it wants to be made, the less I care what anyone else thinks. I know the bowl is supposed to be that way, so that's the way it is. It just...is itself.

Still, some part of me must be trying to protect me from those childhood experiences of "no, that's not good enough." Now that I write that phrase, I wonder why it has any power. "Not good enough - so what? So you make more."

I do know it's better to make a lot of bad bowls, I mean bad, really b-a-d bowls - stinking bowls, ugly bowls, monster bowls, horrible bowls - than not to make any bowls at all. So I might as well get on with it. I can't do errands every morning. The energy I spend on more creative excuses, I might as well put into the studio.


9:48:24 PM    comment []



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Last update: 5/1/2003; 10:32:57 PM.