Quinn’s Traveling Journals Project

Those two (formerly) blank journal pages up there were mine to do anything with: write, draw, apply thin collages… whatever called me. I had a deadline I wanted to honor before mailing it back to Quinn McDonald in the padded envelope provided, but that was it. I took my sweet time and for once was blessedly serene. No Blank Page Problem here! I was in the tree-stand waiting to trap some lovely creative prey. I was drowsing at the Old Fishing Hole, knowing I would lightly spring into action when I felt the niggling idea on the line. I’d say it was deliciously downright recreational and a grand way to allow art in.

Since this was the Unthemed Journal #3568 from the Traveling Journals Project, the only thing I felt vital to the effort was my well-considered and deep authenticity. Oh, and don’t fuss. Yeah, yeah: go deep in the most spontaneous way possible! The more this thought grew, the more it seemed the pages needed to be about a moment, and not much more. I wanted an enso, a Japanese brush circle. That much was settled.

Here came the technical, logistical, physical, spatial, practical, formal, artful problems shuffling in their predictable queue right behind that enso-shaped wish. I kept on waiting. I invited them to my campfire, my drum circle, my tea room. We got along great. They left, tipsy and sated, their ears ringing a bit and I received turquoise and amber, opals and jade!

They (by now very old friends) suggested that to make an enso in an unthemed traveling journal I use: high contrast, blankish simplicity, pen stippling, my own handwriting, label machine printing, red, humor, and a tiny surprise, but not to plan it in the slightest, just begin. The real-time making was over in, say, 27 minutes. Sweet.

May I recommend you give yourself a similar creative gift? Sign up for one of the Traveling Journals: Unthemed, Travel, Dreams, and/or, if you’re near Quinn, Summer in Phoenix. You’ll see how by clicking on that link in the second paragraph up there. You also can see all the other pages completed so far. Quinn is definitely in my emerging online family, and I told her I loved doing this so much, to please put me on the lists for Travel and Dreams. Maybe I will see you there.

And, thanks, Quinn, for letting me use the photo you took, since I forgot to!

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Art Reception Food

June is a good month for outdoor arts events and receptions and I have been to plenty of them in only the past few weeks: First Friday in Santa Cruz, The Santa Cruz Art League’s 90th Anniversary weekend, Capitola’s Art at the Beach, and two sponsored by the Pajaro Valley Art Council of Watsonville, both devoted to sculpture: one in the gallery and one of garden sculpture at nearby Sierra Azul Nursery. (And I am honored to be included in both of their exhibits.)

I am not a veteran of the art opening reception circuit, because they were always an acquired skill in my book; one I just had no compelling need for. First off, an artist makes art, and I have been way too distracted by that alone for decades now. And, while I have looked at plenty of art in plenty of cities, visited artists, attended salons and dutifully read my art history and biography books, I kept forgetting to get to the Openings.

What I have learned by steeling myself and actually showing up at these functions (rather than taking the introvert’s way out and being ‘busy’) is they are only very subtly about the Art. HA! I knew it! They are really about people getting slicked up and celebrating themselves. Food, Drink and Music are always involved. The Art attends and then just sits mutely in the corner, avoiding the crush and watching the avocado dip turn black (as Dick Cavett once said he generally did.)

Depending on the venue, the reception food and drink can either be for purchase, totally or partially catered, sponsored by varying donors/advertisers, or even consist of a potluck brought by the artists themselves. Sometimes it is a combination of them.

Well, when I signed up to bring sushi to last Sunday’s mostly-potluck reception, I really intended to bring honest-to-goodness California Rolls. They are not expensive and it’s possible to whip out a huge trayful in no time. But it is so done. So when I Stumbled Upon (and it looks like you’re getting lots of sites to click over to in this post) a blog about a kid’s birthday party where both the activity and the party favors were faux sushi made from Kellogg’s Rice Krispie Treats (and I probably should add “TM” after that and all the rest of the ingredients) which are then rolled around Pull-n-Peel Twizzlers, Rainbow Twists, Gummi Worms and wrapped in Tropical Tie-Dye Fruit Roll-ups, I was enchanted and immediately changed my offering. It was still “sushi” right?

Be honest, were you fooled by the photo up top? Or did it look a little garishly photoshopped, even though it is not? (And you should see it when it is posterized, highly saturated, extremely hued and contrasted! Positively bilious.)

A platter of Faux Sushi is a sticky sticky sticky affair to manage, but pretty in a Red 40, Blue 1, Yellow 6 and Yellow 5 sort of way. If you have extra lumps of RKT mix you can make the nigiri with Swedish Fish wrapped to the top, as in the foreground. Not surprisingly, they tasted really sweet, too. One almost needs to wash them down with Fruit Punch, for the full kid’s birthday party effect.

So, how did they go over? I thought they were an artsy party funfood offering, but I don’t really know. I arrived with the early crowd, set them on the dessert table and never went back. I spent more time looking at the art, talking to friends and associates, and moving away from the too-piercing flute of the live jazz band to find out.

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Zend of the Semester

One of the many things I do during my week, besides making and blogging about my own ceramic art, is to help beginning ceramics students at nearby Cabrillo College in Aptos, CA. My special love is the handbuilding program, and this semester I volunteered in two classes taught by Kathryn McBride which met on Mondays and Wednesdays. I have a fairly long affiliation by now (25 classes worth, which I will describe sometime), and I have developed a delicious meta-awareness regarding the cycle of students and their passions, struggles and astonishments.

We just finished a profound Finals Week. Folks, the depth of discussion in the Ceramics Lab was Graduate Level. By that I definitely do NOT mean slinging some highfalutin’ BS about one’s ART, but a real attempt to describe this convoluted process in individual terms: learnings and meanings. What happens, for example, when you think you’re in for an Easy A by Playing in the Mud, and instead you find yourself curious and caring, confused and committed? Chalk one up for the misconceptions abounding about clay! Happens all the time.

Among the more common surprises to students is that there are hundreds of clay types, glazes and decoration possibilities and nearly as many firing options. Right now I would rank primitive pit firings as one of the most profound for students, electric and gas kiln firings as the most frustrating in terms of having to wait a long time for results and for NOT Getting What You Want, and Raku (pictured above) as the most terrifyingly giddy instant happiness ever.

What you see in the photo is that exact Zen moment of aliveness: that glowing kiln full of redhot pieces, emitting insane heat and sparkling with melted-glaze works that students are removing with gloves and tongs to transfer to their prepared reduction cans filled with sawdust and newspaper shreds, to smolder and cool and turn the unglazed clay black and the glazed areas crackly and flashed with metallic highlights.

At no time in a semester is there more presence and focus, except maybe when it is one’s turn in the Final to chat a bit about what happened to you in the past four months in Room 3013. In both cases, the observation of “how you do anything is how you do everything” is true.

I am happy at the end of most semesters: it is good to start and it is good to finish. This semester I am bursting with joy from the students’ loving descriptions of their engagement with this whole huge magnificent endeavor, because it matches my own.

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The Mother-Daughter Double Jug, or How I Learned to Love the Process

When my Art Salon met at my studio recently, I showed them all thirteen of the 2009 First Quarter’s Local Talkers, the small face jug series I am making based on photos from a weekly newspaper column. (Read my previous two posts for the complete backstory!) This mother-daughter double jug from Week 9 was quite a favorite of the group. It is the only double face jug and the only one of a child, at least so far, and it sure is sweet, even if I do say so myself.

I had an opportunity last week to choose another double, a mom and baby, but the angles were kinda strange, the heads were apart and a hand was involved, so I passed on it and did the scruffy bearded dude in the baseball cap and wraparound sunglasses, even pressing the week’s number (20) into the front of the cap! (I plan to feature all of the Second Quarter jugs in July’s posts, so look for him then.)

Anyhow, as you may see in the photo, the clay has been bisque-fired, but is waiting for decoration. It is pretty raw looking, but it sure lets the form of each piece be the star. Each one is a stand-alone sculpture. I think I have already mentioned that I plan to do the decorating early in 2010 when I have all 52 or 53 jugs together in a complete body of work. That is both a good and a bad thing.

What’s Good:
Able to develop a deeper perception of parts/whole before randomly colorizing or glazing

Plenty of time to gather ideas and test them out on other pieces first

Able to consult with others, especially ceramics colleagues

By decorating them all at once, there will be the same “hand” at work and the same kiln for the finish firing, creating unity in a subtle way.

What’s Not So Good:
The earliest made ones are bound to get dusty and oily from being handled more. (I already store them under wraps, but will probably need to re-fire them first to burn off what they have collected over the months: dirt and oils do affect how colors and glazes look and stick.)

Always the possibility of breakage….but I will just deal with that if it happens by re-making it.

Might develop real conflicts over several decorating options which seem promising, which would be just like me. *Sigh*

Might get to like them un-glazed a little too much and consequently be so blocked by that as to not know how to take them to the next place. This is pretty common in the ceramics world: by the time we meet a piece after it has dried and been bisque-fired, we need to reaquaint ourselves with the spirit of it in order to know how to continue the vision. (Unless, that is, one has been thinking about the finishing all along…which I definitely have been doing, so this is probably not going to happen!)

Well, like I have said, I have never worked this way before and weekly am finding out new things. Know that I am also getting glimmers of how they all will be displayed to best effect…and I will probably talk about that in a future post, too.

Somewhere in the past I read that artists are not so much problem solvers as they are problem seekers. It’s not by asking WHAT so much as by asking WHAT IF? that creates the itch to make art. To pose a personal “What If” is to seek out challenges. I like this problem which I have put before me. I like that is it just out of my control, just a little bigger than I can understand, that I must wait for it to reveal itself over time and yet has measured chunks of responsibilities for me to execute. It’s a fantastic way to live and has already made this year a memorable one. Can’t wait to see where it takes me!

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Keep on Talkin’

When you sign on for a year-long project lots of things happen you did not expect. Last post I spoke of being happily surprised that folks who appear in the weekly Santa Cruz Good Times Local Talk column are so pleasantly countenanced. (I am basing my 2009 one-a-week small face jug project on these faces; first 13 weeks crammed into the shot above.) I guess anyone who agrees to answer the question man is, well…agreeable!

Some things I have never seen in the column: an answer without a photo…..a dog or thing instead of a human in the picture, someone really mugging, or with their hands in front of their face, turned sideways or backwards…or even looking miserable like in a booking mugshot. Does that mean my facial sampling is skewed a bit towards the thoughtful, articulate, courageous and well-socialized among us? Sure! And, I am fairly sure that sometime in the past, one or all those things I don’t recall seeing have actually been there. This year, however, I live in a bit of dread about them. What, artistically, will be my response if it happens? Maybe I don’t want to know. Maybe I will pick that shot and really get stoked on the relief of seeing something new. Maybe I will play it safe.

Oh, yeah, and please, Good Times, don’t cut the budget for this column this year! I have thought of alerting the publication to my efforts, but it feels both wrong and premature. I need to let it all unfold as it will, being a patient B.S.-in-Sociology participant-observer! It’s heady enough (pun intended) sharing it with my family, friends, Art Salon and you out there in the cyber ethers. Let’s keep it our little secret and surprise the Good Times later, OK? And let’s hope they don’t surprise me too badly first.

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Work in Progress: Local Talkers

Now for some dramatic new art! Here is a stage-y shot of most of the First Quarter of 2009’s year-long small face jug project which I have set for myself.

Some of the backstory about this project: Our local entertainment weekly rag, the Good Times has run a column for all the 20 years I have read it called Local Talk. It’s a Question Man-type column, the kind where the reporter hangs out somewhere like in front of the bookstore, stopping random folks and asking them the burning topical question of the week, or even some general-interest question like, “What did you eat for breakfast?” The peeps who are amenable get their picture taken and their answer published in the column. I have even appeared in it! (And, interesting side-note, after I answered the question on the spot, I changed my mind and wound up calling the reporter later that afternoon to tell him my new opinion! That’s a Libra for you.)

Anyhow, years ago, when I was new to ceramic work, the Local Talk column asked, “If you were a vessel, what would your purpose be?” The range of and reasons for those answers still astound me. Those five people said they would be containers like ships, sustenance holders, and blood vessels! They would carry truth, food and oxygen in the interests of peace, cultural sharing and fun. I just never thought outside the utilitarian ceramic “vessel” until I read that column.

Somewhere soon after that column came into my life, I got the idea to make a piece of art each week based on one of the faces from it. Well, it took nine years, but this is the year I am doing just that. Each Thursday morning I go out early and grab a Good Times, bring it home and gently tear out the column and date and number it with the week. I pin each one to the wall in my studio until I can make two or three weeks’ worth of face jugs at a time.

I never know which of the three or four faces I will pick. Some weeks the faces are just so tantalizing and choosing is difficult. Some weeks, everyone just looks the same. Fortunately I have never sought to make portraits, but rather to use facial features, expressions, accessories and hair/hats as springboards for a fun little jug. Sometimes I am so lost in the faces I never even read the question or the answers!

I sign and date the bottoms and stamp the week’s number into the leatherhard clay when I am done. They are bisque-fired, but I am waiting to have the entire year done before I color and/or glaze them.

A side benefit to this project which I did not foresee: almost everyone is smiling or at least has a pleasant expression. They are a gentle, amicable bunch, this First Quarter grouping. I have a bit more to say about actually making them, so will write about them again soon.

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Inspiration Sources

Honestly, I think “waking up” is the wellspring of all inspiration.Being fully present to what is alive in us right now allows us to make whatever creative connections we are capable of, and not just in the visual arts.

Consciously using a prompting device is as old as humanity. What do you have? The new moon? A bracelet of any kind? A smell? A smile? Wake up!

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