Inspiration

One of the highlights of my summer "staycation" was a visit to the Monterey Museum of Art with the McDougalls. The show, "Color Duets", featured work by local artist Erin Lee Gafill and her uncle Kaffe Fassett. It was a wonderful combination of paintings, quilts, slow stitching, and local history. Most of all, it was all about COLOR, and how to use it. 

If at all possible, if you're in Monterey, it is well worth a visit! Hurry, before the exhibit closes...

 

The Tide has Finally Turned

When I applied to Open Studios, back in March, I really didn't have much new work. I was just barely able to squeak in my obligatory seven pieces on the entry form. So, I realized that this summer had to count. For the past two summers, I've experimented a great deal. And, there was much failure. In fact, all of my work was unfinished, uninspired, and cracked. 

I have worked almost every day this summer, to make new work. I really hope that Open Studios goes well. But, even if it doesn't, I know that I've created some successful finished work.

This is the point where almost everything has been bisque fired, and glazing is happening. I had a bout with severe vertigo last week, that blew out 2 1/2 days. So, I'm playing catch up, or as I call it in my fourth grade classroom, I'm "swimming in ketchup". The bowls are all done though. And, some wall signs are heading towards their final firing. There is a large flotilla of plates that will be fired at cone 2 this weekend. 

We're getting there!

 

More Alberta Project Tiles

Today, I was able to make some more tiles for my project. I made two name tiles, because I couldn't fit my grandmother's entire name on only one tile, even though I tried. My grandma had a beautiful garden. It was full of irises, snapdragons, hollyhocks, and roses. She seemed to have a way with flowers. There was a mint green trellis at the front of the house. I would have liked to make some flower tiles. The name tiles include a rose, and a fern image. In her living room, for many years, she had an old fashioned wooden fern stand.

The Telephone:

Alberta loved to talk on the phone. Despite living in a small town, with friends and relatives around her, just down the street, she talked to them all every day on the telephone. She had a small 1950's telephone table near the front door. She would sit there, laughing and talking. Her legs were always crossed, and she bounced the top leg repeatedly, lifting her foot rhythmically as she gossiped. Around the house, my grandma always wore housecoats, aprons, keds, and nylon stockings which rolled up around her calves. She developed her fashion sense during the roaring twenties, when silk stockings were rolled, and she continued on to carry out that trend. When she talked on the phone, she was always cheerful. Her laugh made the callers feel good. Just hearing it, as I eavesdropped, made me feel good, too.

The Suitcase:

When I was 7 years old, I decided to bring my cassette tape recorder from California, so that I could record the life stories of both of my grandparents. I had no prompts or questions, my intent was to record my grandma on one side of the cassette, and my grandpa on the other side. My grandma finished reviewing important life events after a brisk 20 minutes. My grandpa took her half of the tape, and the entire other side, to discuss WWI. He was shot during the war, and described the circumstances in extreme detail. Alberta was eavesdropping on his tales, and kept yelling from the kitchen for him to hurry up and move through his life story. You can still hear her on the tape, contradicting him, and nagging. I think it's one of the best parts of the tape. 

During her life story, Alberta shared, through tears, her desire to attend college. She stressed the importance of schooling, and education. She described packing up her suitcase, so that she could attend college. Her bag was ready, she had been accepted, and had registered. Alberta was ready. But, she learned that her mother had been diagnosed with cancer. With tears in her eyes, she described the heartache that came from having to take her suitcase back into the bedroom, to unpack her belongings. Her greatest dream was to become a school teacher. Although she was unable to fulfill this wish with college, later in her life, she was able to educate her son who had Down Syndrome.

Alberta was a gifted teacher. When I visited, she tried to instruct me on how to sew, and how to embroider. I was terrible. So, she moved on to teaching me how to crochet. That was also too difficult for me. So, like any good teacher, she scaled it back. She brought out a plastic grid, and taught me how to sew yarn in a pattern onto the grid. She wanted me to feel successful, and she wanted me to understand the importance of making and creating. 

 

Alberta Project

Each year, my local gallery has an exhibit dedicated to Dia de los Muertos. In the past, I've entered with my students, and we've made offrendas, dedicated to family members, and to ancestors who have passed on. This year, my sister and I are entering. We're going to make two wall pieces, each one on a 12 x 12 wooden panel. The panels are dedicated to our grandmother: Susan Alberta Blackett Jones.

My sister is an amazingly talented artist. She oil paints, she watercolors, she quilts, she builds dioramas, she does beading, she makes jewelry, she makes objects out of paper... So, I'm excited to see what she is going to do with her panel. Also, I'm excited that she let me strong-arm her into being a part of this project.

I am making nine tiles that will be attached to my panel. Each tile has a story or connection to Alberta. So far, I've made five of the tiles.

Soft Serve Cones:

I spent several summers at my grandma's house. She lived in a small town in central Utah. The town was bisected by a large highway. Across the street from her house, was a drive-in. I would risk my little life to run across the four lanes of speeding cars, in order to get a soft serve vanilla cone. They would put clear plastic orange and yellow animals on your cone. I collected monkeys and giraffes all summer.

Starlight Mints:

My grandma lived a stones throw from the best candy store ever. The candy store was run by my great aunt. It had turquoise walls, long glass counters, and was part of a service station. The current state of my teeth is proof that I sometimes visited this store two times a day, for boxes of Lemonheads, and Alexander the Grapes. They also had an old refrigerated soda machine full of icy bottles. I used to buy pixie sticks, and dump them into my glass bottles of RC Cola. The only candies that my grandparents ever actually had inside their home, were starlight mints. And, no one ate them. Why would you? When the best candy store in the world, other than Willie Wonka's factory, was a two minute walk from the house. So, these mints sat in a candy dish in the living room. They were props. They were dusty. That being said, my grandpa always offered me one when I was in the living room. And, when you handed him one, he would say, "Thank you, don't mind if I do..."

Cooked Breakfast:

My grandma and grandpa were farmers. They were descendants of English and Welsh breakfast eaters. Both ate a huge breakfast every morning. The meal always started with Cream O'Wheat (which I hated), and then bacon and eggs. My rail thin grandpa always poured half-and-half on his cereal. The adults would drink Postum, a coffee substitute. I loved smelling the bacon frying when I was sleeping on the green couch, or in the back bedroom. I was in charge of taking the pan of leftovers from breakfast out into the corral for Susie, the (enormous) pig. She terrified me, because she could smell me coming with the saucepan full of slops, and she would get really excited. Too excited.

Needle and Thimble:

My grandma sewed, and embroidered all of the time. She also crocheted, and made quilts. Her home was full of doilies, afghans, pillows, dishtowels, and all were decorated with her handy work. She was rarely idle, and used her time creatively. There was always a basket of work near her chair.

Jam Jar:

Down in the dark basement, to the right of the coal heater, across a pitch black cement hallway, was a concrete bunker-like room. The walls were lined with shelves, full of jam jars and preserved vegetables. I always hated going into that room, because it had no light switch. So, you had to walk to the middle of the room, and pull a ceiling chain, in order to activate the single light bulb. Sometimes my brother, or my cousins would scare me, jumping out of the darkness. It seemed like a room where you could be fantastically murdered, and your body could also be effectively hidden, all in one! Whenever my grandma asked me to go down into the basement to get her some jam, I would be filled with dread. This simple offhand request, might end in my murder, from a stranger hiding in the basement. I would climb down the rickety wooden staircase, and head through the musty basement (I can definitely remember the smell), and walk cautiously towards the square room with that light bulb chain. Once you pulled the chain, the room instantly glowed with beautiful colors in the jars. I'm not sure if it was worse entering the jam room, or leaving it. Because you had to traverse the same hallway in the dark, once you had turned out the light. However, you did have a glass jar in your hand, which could be used as a weapon, just in case a murderous stranger had entered through the coal chute, and planned an ambush!

More tiles to come...

 

Process Slideshows

I like to show process videos during Open Studios. My studio is a tiny tuff shed in the backyard. It's too weird to have people visit the hot, crowded shed. But, I want my guests to see how I work. This video shows how I construct Arbol de Vida forms. Because it's only a slideshow, it doesn't capture the drama of arbols slumping and falling over. There is no swearing. Everything is built with wet, floppy clay. They are definitely challenging.

This is a video that I made when I first started constructing this form. It's interesting to see the differences. 

Heal Thyself

This school year was a year of unsolvable, insurmountable problems. And, how do you recover from that? Solving problems successfully seems to be one way. So, I've been out in the clay shed each day. Yes, I'm creating work for Open Studios. But, more than that, I'm rescuing, and settling my troubled psyche. I'm rebuilding my confidence. With every piece successfully completed, I feel a tiny bit better. Don't forget: art saves.

These types of signs, or wall plaques are usually prone to cracking. But, firing them upright seems to help. Fingers crossed that after all of the glazing work, they don't crack on the last kiln trip! The initial firing awaits the sign in the top photo, and the bottom sign requires two more firings once the colors are applied...

 

Trying Stuff / Seeing Progress

I'm trying out an experimental construction technique. These arbols are built with a wooden dowel inside. The dowel is wrapped in plastic, so that it can (supposedly) be removed easily. One of the difficulties of creating this form, is that all of the clay has to be wet. If it isn't all put together wet, cracks form. The wooden dowel will continue to give structure as the piece is firming up overnight. Usually, I take the dowels out, before I add the top decorations. We'll see what happens. There are a million fiddly considerations with this work. 

This morning's kiln unload was a good one. And, now there are some finished colorful bowls out of the kiln. It takes patience to put up with drying time, three firings, and glazing layers. I'm pretty happy with the bright colors. These bowls will be placed on a ladder shelf. I think that they'll make a cheery statement!