Catherine Jo Morgan: Hand-made paper bowls

Working Loose

Sat, 03 Jul 2004 00:06:59 GMT

I'm gradually making space - both in my inner being and in my outer work areas. It seems to go back and forth. I make a little more space in my mind/being, and then I see how to make a little more space in my studio. That extra space in my studio opens up my inner being more, so then I can make even more space in my studio. And so it's going.

It's really helping to get all the extra ideas out of the studio. They're going to the storage room. They were scattered everywhere in notebooks and file folders, so that as I did my work I'd keep running across ideas from years back. I'd feel a bit guilty and ashamed - uh oh, another great idea that I haven't yet done. Finally it dawned on me that having all these notes and sketches wasn't helping me! They'll be there if I ever need them. Meanwhile, I can just make what I really want to make right NOW.

Getting Up In the Morning

Fri, 02 Jul 2004 20:56:09 GMT

My new routine is working. The evening before, I get my clothes and breakfast ready, with coffee ready at the touch of a button. My breakfast is portable - oats, raisins, cinnamon, flaxseed meal and sliced almonds - with a container of unsweetened applesauce ready to mix in before I eat it. When I get up, I push the coffee button, get dressed, pick up my box and head for the studio, coffee in hand.

All I do when I get to the studio is do an Effortless Mastery meditation. I push the button on the CD player, Kenny Werner's comforting voice begins, and I enter a new psychic space. After I do the meditation, I make a second cup of coffee, eat my breakfast, start my daily report, and start making my new sculptures.

It's the Effortless Mastery meditation that makes this work. That, and going to the studio first off, before any distractions or requests appear. When I first wake up, I realize that all I need to do is go down and do the meditation. After that, the day will take care of itself.

This is a big difference from waking up and thinking about "what I need to do today." That was too big, often confusing, often scary. I can walk to the studio and do the meditation, thanks to the CD. So I wake up with things I know I can do.

After I do the meditation, I also know I can do my artwork. I can't recommend Effortless Mastery more highly. If you only buy one book this year to free your creative process, this is the one to get.

The Burden of Old Ideas

Sat, 26 Jun 2004 02:26:14 GMT

For years I've thought it was just respectful of my ideas to keep all of them. There are notebooks and notebooks of them, plus loads of file folders full. Then there are notebooks of reference material on various media and techniques. Today it suddenly dawned on me that all these notes are a burden. Furthermore, they're a burden I could shed.

I've known that the bowls don't like really to be in the same room as my books. By "the bowls" I mean my vessel sculptures - iron, paper, mixed media. None of them seem to care much for books.

So it has worked out fine to have my books in the cabin where I live, instead of in the studio. If I need a book for reference, I can always take it to the studio. But I kept a lot of notebooks in the studio, thinking I needed them.

Today I moved them out. Haven't exactly found a good place for them yet, but I can make space in the cabin by moving books about. Now there's more room in the studio for work in progress. This is space I've desperately needed. What a relief!

Now I don't have ten years or more of bowl ideas weighing me down. That's a lot of ideas! I'm good at generating ideas. But all these old ideas are bogging me down. I just didn't see it till today.

I'm not tossing them - not yet anyway. But I can look at notebooks of ideas just as well in the cabin as in the studio. This frees the studio for - oh - for actually making new work! And it frees my mind for working spontaneously again. That's the way I used to make every bowl - completely spontaneously, starting wtih whatever "seed" was at hand. I've imagined myself working that way again, but it hasn't been happening. Now, with a clear studio space - just materials and tools - it looks much more possible.

Batches

Fri, 25 Jun 2004 01:48:10 GMT

So much of the pleasure and success with any art or craft work depends on choosing the best batch size. The size depends on the item, the artist, and sometimes other factors like available space. If the batch is too small, the setup and cleanup time is disproportionate to the results. It hardly seems worth the work. And the artist may never really get warmed up, so the artwork itself may not reach the artist's potential at the time.

If the batch is too big, the artist "peaks out" before finishing and some of the resulting work isn't so good. Also the artist is tired of the work well before it's over. The result is not really wanting to do any more next time.

A good book for writers called A Writer's Time advised picking the length of a writing session carefully. If it's too short, you don't accomplish enough and just feel frustrated. If it's too long, you get tired and end up feeling depressed. Frustration or depression: take your choice! A session the best length for you, the individual writer, leaves you feeling satisfied and wanting to go again soon.

Similarly, for artists, a good batch size leaves you feeling satisfied and wanting to do more soon.

For me, eight acrylic paintings on 8x10" canvases is a perfect batch. By the time I've done something on the eighth one, the first ones are dry enough so I can add more to them. Out of eight, at least some will look good to me. And I have the space to dry them and later to varnish them.

I can forge two dozen iron hooks in a nice batch, but six cooking forks is about right. Two iron vessel sculptures is much better than one, three is ok, and four is about the limit. Two is pretty much ideal for iron bowls. There are times when I need to let the hot iron air cool. While it cools I can work on the other. I can do three, but it can start to cramp my spaces. Five is definitely too many. I only tried that once. I got way bogged down.

I used to paint Strathmore cards with gouache paints. The blank cards were packaged in sets of 20. That was a perfect batch. I often finished one batch and then did another right after.

When you start a new kind of artwork, there's no way to know the best size batch for you. You have to feel as you go. The work can bog down at either extreme. If the batch is too small, each piece is just too, too important and it's hard to take risks. If it's too large, you can get distracted and bogged down. Each step in the process can take too long because you have to do it with too many different works.

But this is a crucial factor. Just watching, paying attention is a big help. Be aware that you can change the batch size midstream. Start some new pieces. Or if the batch is too big, set some of the pieces aside to finish later.

And of course, it's an individual thing. Someone else may prefer to paint twenty 8x10" paintings at a time. Another artist may prefer to work on three at a time. Only you can know when you're really, really enjoying the work.

Origami Boulders

Wed, 02 Jun 2004 13:19:58 GMT

Competition in the mixed media art world is really tough:

http://www.origamiboulder.com/

heart chakra vessel: Life is Beautiful

Wed, 26 May 2004 19:38:23 GMT

I'm working to add more paper vessels to the website. Here's a preview link to one of the Chi Energy (TM) bags from the heart chakra series:

http://www.cjmorgan.com/paper-vessels/life-is-beautiful.htm

This one is called "Life is Beautiful." Remember the wonderful Italian film of that title?

throat chakra artwork

Thu, 20 May 2004 21:21:27 GMT

Today I took pleasure in adding 19 paper Chi Energy (TM) medicine bags to the website. They're all throat chakra artwork for awakening and healing the throat chakra. Of course, many of the pieces are associates with other chakras as well.

This one is called "Speak the Truth in Love." It's the turquoise color that associates it with the throat chakra. The four folds and the black lining make it a root chakra vessel as well. I like the balance between stability and expressiveness. This is one of my favorites.

Still have lots more pages of Chi Energy (TM) paper vessels to add to the site. I have to say it was thrilling to make the pages today. I relaxed and enjoyed looking at them.

A few days ago I added the shopping cart to the site, so now all the available artwork has an "add to shopping cart" button. Payment is by PayPal or check. I'm ready! Come on everyone!

Getting Unstuck

Thu, 12 Feb 2004 13:57:46 GMT

For quite a few years I've been saying I need more space. It's true. But for all this time I haven't gotten any more space. I've just been stuck.

Once I rented a studio in town but backed out when I discovered that the flaking paint on the windowsill was full of lead. I even got a building permit to add a portable storage building next to the studio. Then I wasn't sure what size....

Two or three days ago, I thought "OK, there's something else going on here underneath. By acting as if I can't get the space I need, I'm acting out some feeling. If I can acknowledge the feeling, I can get unstuck." I explored it a bit in my journal but didn't seem to get anywhere. Maybe...just the feeling that I don't deserve more space?

Yet...I got unstuck. I opened the Yellow Pages to find out how much an 8x12 building would cost, delivered and set up. (Answer, in case you're interested: $1466 including tax, plus building permit and electrical inspection for about $50 more - plus an electrician to make sure my panel is up to code, and whatever it would take to do that.

Saw in the Yellow Pages, a big ad for a new climate controlled storage building. Climate controlled storage is even better for artwork, slides, paper, etc. Temperature stays around 60 degrees F., and humidity in an ideal storage range. I can do this in a portable storage building but it would take a lot of work and expense: insulation, extra wiring, air conditioner and electricity. It's a long term solution when I need a solution NOW.

Rates are reasonable, security excellent. It took two days for my insurance agent to work out the way to get my contents covered at a rental location, but it got solved. Today I'll rent some climate controlled storage space.

Now, for the first time in many years, I can make new bowls without dealing with "where on earth can I put this when it's done?" What a relief!

And...if I can get unstuck about SPACE...I can get unstuck about anything. I grew up never controlling a square inch. I had a bedroom, but it had to be arranged and decorated to suit my mother. She had very good taste but...sometimes it's good to be able to make one's own mistakes.

Making sculpture is, of course, all about space. Ironic, isn't it? Probably no coincidence at all.

President Bush proposes an increase in NEA funding

Thu, 29 Jan 2004 23:37:49 GMT

According to a New York Times article online, President Bush is proposing a modest increase in funding for the National Endowment for the Arts. The increase will probably be bitterly contested. Even if it passes, the NEA will still be drastically underfunded compared with the period before the Republicans took control of Congress in 1995. And it will be underfunded compared with the support given to the arts by other developed countries.

Sometimes I've wondered if the drastic change in 1995 was one of the things that made it difficult for me to go on making art. Quite a few things happened around that time. I lost the clean studio/gallery space I'd been using. Congress declared art irrelevant and of no value to society. My beloved dog died. I felt each of these as a major blow - but I believed I was moving on despite them. Still, for me, "moving on" means making my bowls. So which do I believe? My mind, saying "I'm fine" - or what I make or don't make?

What I make or don't make, for sure. It's good to be reminded of that. The bowls don't lie - not even little white lies.

Motivation

Wed, 14 Jan 2004 16:05:04 GMT

What motivates me to work is a sense of curiosity. I want to find out something. It's the sense of adventure, discovery, and wonder that I enjoy. Without this, the work loses its glow.

When I feel a simple impulse to go to the studio, it's because I'm curious about something specific. "What if I..." or "How does that look this morning?" or "What does that bowl want next?"

My motivation isn't better or worse than anyone else's. I know some artists want to express something, or just like to make things. There are lots of different motivations for making art. For me, as for most artists, more than one motivation comes into play.

Still, I think it's a good idea to know your main motivation. It's something to nourish and amplify. Worst would be to fight it - a sure road to creative block.

What if you applied your main motivation to the business of selling art, as well? For me, I could breathe a sigh of relief. Instead of estimating the best or correct way to establish new gallery relationships, I could find out things. I could ask "what if..." and do some exploring.

What if...excuse me, I need to go work.

Giving Up on Art?

Sun, 07 Dec 2003 15:00:06 GMT

A kind and concerned reader made a thoughtful comment on the post I made on Giving Up. I had wondered after I posted that message, if I should have clarified that the "overwhelming project" I was giving up was a computer database project for a client, not an art project. (Although giving up an overwhelming art project would also be OK.) Anyway, I don't associate giving up effortful living, with giving up making art. The reverse is true. Effortless art is very appealing!

Friends have often told me I seem to fear things being too easy. In that case, do they mean anything? They don't count towards earning a place in life if they're "too easy." What I'm giving up, I hope, is the effort to earn a place in life. Why not accept life as a gift?

This is not the first time I've said that I intend to accept life as a gift. I've said that, then slipped back into trying hard to earn it. So we'll see what happens here. If I find myself trying hard to accept life as a gift, that's just another way to manipulate myself.

Art that comes from effortful living, from self manipulation or an attempt to manipulate others, lacks something that I believe is essential. There's an energy, a spiritual force, that's missing. So "effortless art" can be much more meaningful - to me at least.

New Slower Rhythm of Making Bowls

Wed, 12 Nov 2003 14:11:27 GMT

On the drive to Atlanta Monday to get slides processed, I realized that the best work rhythm will be to complete a bowl, then photograph it. Do this before beginning the next one, so that I’ll have truly contemplated the first bowl. There’s a way in which making a really good and true photograph of the bowl helps me know it in a deeper, fuller way.

This is completely different from my inclination to push myself to do two or three or even four bowls at once, for efficiency.

Now that I’m writing this, I start to doubt my recognition. It’s a little scary. It threatens my confidence in being able to produce enough bowls to earn a living with them, to work fulltime.

This new rhythm would emphasize dialogue. The whole process is a two-way conversation between the bowl and me. The new rhythm calls for me to listen more than I’ve been listening. When I emphasize productivity, it’s as if I’m intending talk talk talk talk talk. I think of high productivity, fast productivity, as an ideal to reach. But if I think of this same thing as talk talk talk talk talk, it doesn’t look as ideal.

Yet it feels weird to think of deliberately slowing down. All my life I’ve been the one to “run ahead.” I’m impatient to see around the next curve, to run over the next hill. “Come back, stay with the group,” my fretful camp counselors would call. Even when I was the assistant counselor, I could not stop myself from running ahead of my group instead of patiently shepherding them. (Certainly I was a disappointment as an assistant counselor.)

In making my bowls, I’ve been fretting that I work “so slowly.” I envy artists who are more productive, who work faster or more steadily or for longer hours. Of course, in my own way, my slowness is still about “running ahead.” If I learn a new technique, instead of making twenty more bowls using that technique, I want to “run ahead” to learn another. If I try one thing with a bowl, I want to try twenty more with the same bowl before deciding. And sometimes I try to skip a step or two, which takes more time because eventually I have to come back and do what I missed.

That’s one thing that’s happened with the photography. I was trying to skip the steps of looking at each bowl carefully. What view lets the eye move naturally around the bowl? What is the focal point? And most of all – what view shows the bowl’s spiritual power?

Shooting film without taking time for this step has allowed me to learn a lot about lighting, exposures, warming filters, backgrounds, and more. But it’s not going to show me how to take really good slides of my bowls. Only this first step of careful contemplation will do that.

So I must dare to go even more slowly.

Thu, 06 Mar 2003 14:30:18 GMT

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.

Wed, 05 Mar 2003 23:18:52 GMT

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.

Wed, 05 Mar 2003 14:32:56 GMT

A love letter to Paper

Today I wrote a love letter to Paper. Now I realize that each of my main materials, paper and iron, needs some attention just for itself. I've been so intent on making bowls that unite paper and iron that I haven't wanted to make any bowls just of iron any more, nor any just of paper.

When my children were little, I made sure I gave each one of them some undivided attention alone, just the two of us. Can't I do this with iron and paper too? Would it be so terrible to make a paper bowl? An iron bowl? Maybe this would ease the process of making iron and paper bowls, instead of being a detour?

It isn't that I haven't had any urges to make paper bowls or iron bowls. It's just that I've been censoring them. I'm afraid of getting distracted. Today, making paper bowls and iron bowls no longer feels like a distraction. What a relief!