After this post, Sabra asked which was my favorite. I had difficulty choosing one so I kept two for dust collectors/ studio inspiration. And because I have free time, I named them. The striped one on the left is Bandersnatch (a wonderland inspiration?) and the strong silent one on the right is Whooty Who (a woman’s codeword in singles bar, from a story my partner likes to tell).
I dont’t consider myself to be sentimental, but it appears there are different, unspoken rules where my creative work environment is concerned. There is an endless array of random clutter that serves no use other than to be present until it reveals it’s purpose to me at a later time. Most of these items are brought back from walks or hikes. Things like small cones, sticks ,rocks, feathers, and nuts. Fora time I was unaware of my habit of bringing these homes. I think the randomness of the items and the absence of a filing system made it more difficult for me to notice a pattern. It wasn’t until I became aware of how many small piles of natural materials were appearing in the bedroom, kitchen, studio, and bathroom that I realized I might need an intervention….but then I said “screw it” and moved everything to one location so it can be incorporated into future projects.
Poor Yorick actually has a higher purpose than posing as a Samali. He frequently spends his time modeling. At a brief glance it would be easy to presume a preoccupation with the macabre, but that isn’t the case. What I have is a small obsession with structure, and few are as interesting to me as the complexity of the human framework, both skeletally and cerebrally.
This stoneware armadillo is from my first art exchange. There was a small college art festival, and I printed some t-shirts by hand from a linoleum block for professors, students plus one extra. One of the festival demonstrators, an exceptional functional potter offered to trade a hand sculpted figure for the only remaining t-shirt, which I graciously accepted.
It’s difficult to look at this parting shot without thinking about a woman squatting in the woods, but the real story isn’t the figure (which by the way wasn’t intended to look as unsophisticated as the end result. The shapes intended to dictate the composition eventually became covered by the composition thus the painting of a pale backside). The rocks are from the California coast brought home for the purpose of stacking. I like to think of it as a natural indoor installation that is constantly evolving. They are stacked in random configurations, the only goal being balance. I could say it represents the fleeting nature and unpredictability of the human condition, but the real story is the tend to fall over frequently due to footsteps making the floor vibrate. For now with the painting serving as a backdrop, the pile of stones are an accurate means of measuring the humor of those who enter the space.
