Trouble in the Control Room

I need to learn to leave well enough alone.

I have tried every font style, size and color (in every possible combination) in my quest for the right aesthetic for the blog. (I'm keeping this one simple, basic, utilitarian...this is a learning experience for me. No laughter please!) The problem is that I seem to change my mind regarding changes after I have hit the publish button. The more I tamper with my posts-the more computer glitches I seem to unleash from their hiding places deep within the crevices of the Blog Spot operating system.

I am certainly not computer savvy but, I can handle the basics. I'll admit that I am currently unable to really swank out my blog page for lack of know-how but please Blog Spot no more spontaneous font changes!

I am a Hold Out.

(I own a rotary phone form the 1940's-which has sadly been retired to the closet-as I was finding myself unable to navigate our automated world on it.)

Now that most of the previous posts are, at least, uniform in appearance I will try to resist the urge to meddle. The first two are a lost cause-I give up on trying to rectify the rogue fonts.

(Just a quick note from the flight deck.)

Knitting on Morphine

I am in the process of adorning everyone within a 500 mile radius with a scarf. I sometimes scare myself as I am fast becoming a knit happy crazy cat lady. I see my Golden Years spent in a rocking chair on the porch surrounded by my 23 cats. (I presently have two.) My knitting needles will click together as I hum to myself. A length of scarf will begin on my lap and then travel out into the world; one row at a time. Down the steps, through the front gate and down the block it will grow until it is completely out of sight. As I rock slowly back and forth-knit, purl, knit, purl...I will speak to the birds. "Good morning Mr. Blue jay. Why, yes, it is a lovely day isn't it?!?"

I have found that knitting is perfect for feeling productive-even in front of the television set. (I'm guilty!) It's a very satisfying pastime which stills a restless mind. An instant antidote for aimlessness & boredom. In fact, that is one of the main reasons I felt compelled to try my hand at it. (And I like neck warmers.)

A couple of days after returning home from the hospital following major surgery I began to crawl the walls of my mind. I had just undergone a spinal fusion-my first, and I hope only, experience with hospitalization. I had a fabulous German roommate who had undergone knee surgery. It was BIG excitement in our room when one of us walked! We were a comfort to one another; mutually inspiring the necessary endurance to make it through. There was so much distraction at the hospital that the time actually passed really quickly...every 30 minutes someone was coming in to monitor something or another.

I had NEVER felt true helplessness before this experience. I fancy myself an incredibly independent person (to a fault sometimes) and I couldn't even turn over in bed without two nurses helping. It was such a strange limbo lying there unable to sleep...unable to reach for the magazine on the table behind me...unable to move at all without sending blinding pain through every cell in my body. It scared me...

Back home I found myself confined to my living room (mostly) without the ability to do anything other than sit in a pillow lined chair. I believe that I mentally cataloged each and every dust bunny and cobweb as I sat there. It was so much easier to cope while in the hospital-at least there I was removed from all of the daily things around me that I wanted or needed to do. I was too medicated to read...high as a kite around the clock. Percoset followed by Flexeril followed by MORHPINE. (Now, I'll admit to a little illicit dabbling in my youth but now I am a person who doesn't like to take an Advil tablet unless it's absolutely necessary.) I'm not sure what made me snap but, I beseeched my partner in crime to drive me to Joann Fabrics to buy an instructional knitting book and yarn. This was no simple feat as it involved the complete modification of my vehicle with pillows and a great deal of willpower. The long stretch between my chair in the living room and my awaiting freedom was made quite burdensome by the inconvenience of a walker on gravel. (Unfortunately, I didn't use my walker long enough to justify tricking it out with tassels and tennis balls on the legs.) We got me in and seat belted, secured the walker in the bed of the truck and set off-an unlicensed driver at the wheel. I believe that Zeke did his best to avoid the most jarring pot holes and take the smoothest turns-I don't remember the drive. I was in the grip of teeth clenching-star seeing pain. Thank you, My Dear, for braving Joann Fabrics with a delirious mess!

That is how it all started. My first scarf was scrapped of course...the drugs were better suited for the amazing dreams that they brought nightly...

Homesickness

After reading back through the past few posts it has occurred to me just how homesick I am for California. (Well, I suppose I've known this for awhile now.) I've lived in Tucson for a few years and although I've settled in; it has always felt like a halfway point of sorts. I find myself lingering in limbo between the Bay Area (my beginning) and Rochester (my goal of attending The L. Jeffrey Selznick School of Film Preservation.) I'm trying not to let the past few years of doctors poking & prodding, Xrays, MRIs, pain, and hospitals taint my impression of Tucson. There really is so much here...I was sincerely excited when I first discovered this part of the desert. It is quite beautiful...especially just after a rain. If I can just get past the Heat & Dryness here I think I can make it a little longer. The Winter skin dehydration factor is in full effect. NOTHING seems to remedy this issue-not even the slathering on of various nut butters in their purest form...I'm just short of trying Lard.

I've settled into a very old neighborhood in the heart of Historic Tucson. There is such a sense of community here-so much flavor. The adobe row house that I call home was built in 1903 and the woman who resided here before us lived to be 100+ years old within these walls. I discovered that one of my coworkers, at my previous day job, was a great grandson of the man who built this house for his family! (so nice to be able to see old family photos!) I love everything about this little nest; with the exception of mice in the clothes closet

(I carried them WAY down the street in a towel & was fortunate that they did not return), the drafts in winter and annual indoor fire ant brigade. It has definitely been an adventure living in an old building; something is always ceasing to work properly! The neighborhood has certainly found a place in my heart...it is a fine collection of old families, artists and roadside shrines. El Tiradito-The Wishing Shrine is just around the corner. It is said to be "the only shrine in the United States dedicated to the soul of a sinner buried in unconsecrated ground." The soil around the shrine is dark from the oil of many, long since burned, candles. People visit to place paper wishes within slots in the stone & adobe walls or to leave various symbolic offerings. Even though I am not religious I have always been drawn to the beauty & mysticism of places that people find sacred. So much to see and experience right here in my own neighborhood!

The Historical Marker Database

Kitchen Windowsill

On Reducing Rubbish

I'm not generally one for lists of New Year's resolutions-it seems to be the same list year after year for me. (I am painfully aware that I need to eat healthier, exercise more, keep in better contact with my family & save money) This year I have decided to focus on the smaller steps that add up to grand results. One major point of focus this year will be to create less mindless trash by switching to more reusable products. Now, mind you, I have a true disdain for preaching-just feel so tickled by a few wonderful products and ideas that I have found in my travels that I want to share. (Reviving Show & Tell one rant at a time.)

Oil Cloth Market Tote & Reusable Sandwich/Snack Bags

found on Etsy

RICKRACKQUEEN

Glass Nail File

no more wasted emery boards!

TerraDent Toothbrush

by ECODENT Premium Oral Care

A fabulous friend of mine Eva is creating fun jewelry & accessories made from recycled and upcycled materials. (Her Porn Star earrings are quite naughty but not too vulgar-they are made from recycled porn magazines.) She sells through MySpace RECYCLED BY EVA and also Etsy MINDLIKEWATER

I was so shocked when I first moved out to the desert by the lack of recycling. I called Las Cruces, New Mexico home for about 9 months (quite a shift from Oakland,CA!!!) My time there made me realize just how lucky I had been in the Bay Area to have so many green resources available to me. I realize that I am walking a very fine line here between crunchy and conscientious. (I'm afraid I must admit to a profound dislike of Birkenstocks-eew! Patchouli, & The Grateful Dead-sorry if I've offended!) Separating my plastics, the green from the brown glass and the newsprint (remember newsprint!?!) from the other papers had become such a routine part of my daily existence that I nearly panicked-that took years of training!

I spent my childhood in Marin County & San Francisco in the 1970's so I've definitely been involved in my share of earth centric activities. I've found that much of what I grew up assuming was normal (i.e being brought, by my mother, to a psychic on my eighteenth birthday to have my charts done...) will raise a mocking eyebrow in other parts of the country. I've been known to snicker & snub on occasion but I'm so grateful to have been exposed to so many diverse and sometimes unconventional things growing up.

I was really fortunate to have access to MANY wonderful natural areas in the Bay Area. The natural diversity of California has always awed me. One can travel less than 5 hours in any direction and see something totally different than other locations. (If the traveled direction happens to be West-a boat will be required!?!)

The ocean factored greatly into my childhood...salty afternoons picking up agates & shells with my mother-our feet sinking into the frozen surf soaked sand and foam. Sand flies would scatter as serpentine bull kelp was disturbed from it's half buried state. (Always reminded me of a sea monster of sorts with it's long smooth tail & bulbous head...But, I think every kid thought this...)

The many wooded areas close by also afforded me a great appreciation for the outdoors. There was always some natural excursion set up by the Parks & Recreation Department to keep the kids learning & out of trouble. (Mostly...)

I loved creek stomps through the woods-tennis shoes squishing as we explored single file the length of a winding waterway. The stiff cuffs of my wet 1970's cords, the sought after crawdad, the dreaded banana slug and the smell of wet bay leaves and damp. We played capture the flag in a park thick with redwood trees-this created GREAT opportunity to be stealthy. I never liked the cut throat elementary school P.E. experience-too many ways to expose every personal weakness (I was a dreamer) But, the capture the flag games have left such amazing memories...

Ah, the beauty of the Natural World! I could ramble on for hours...

There was a landfill in San Rafael, CA that I used to visit with my father. He was a general contractor so there was always something monumental to haul away-cracked drywall with its chalky interior exposed, an odd end of plumbing pipe oozing grey slime...(I can still smell that strange rotted matter-petroleum tinged odor unique to plumbing projects!) He would begin to back the truck up-slowly-as I would guide him with hand signals to stop just short of the perilous concrete drop off. We would then begin the process of sending the junk & yard debris plummeting from the bed of the Ford to meet its demise at the bottom of the pit. (I remember that glass xmas tree ornaments were kinda fun to throw in! Quite dramatic when they land! What is wrong with me?!? Good Lord!) I enjoyed perusing the treasures that the men at the dump would rescue from the bulldozer. I would wander through appliances-that with just a small tweak would continue to toast, wash or bake a cake. These were useful things, I assume, chucked in only to make room for a bigger shinier model...

Although, the trips to The Dump with my father have left fond memories-I see the larger picture now. It was the bonding (and the lollipop that the lady in the booth would give me) not the landfill that I will hold in my heart!

Unfortunately, I grew up with 'disposable' items/products as the norm in our household. I'm not sure when it was that we fully embraced this 'use it once' mentality-I suspect that it was sometime in the 1980's! I do remember a time, much earlier, when we would bring our various household necessities to a small crowded shop called Mr Fix It-I won't forget.

The bottom line is that I don't want my practices to contribute to the destruction of our natural resources. Step by little step-rewriting the script to better my existence.

Notes on Caffeine Overload & Wild Indonesian Silk Cocoons

I've just polished off the remaining half of the bag of Indonesian Tea Candy that I discovered at Whole Foods Market. Just how much caffeine I have introduced into my system is unknown. I should have known, as a tea junkie, that I wouldn't be able to stop after one piece. I tried to put the bag away-Really-no I didn't.

Thoughts of Indonesia, caffeine & sugar...Just the right kick in the pants needed to get some work done on the other large scale installation project that I have in the works.

(Or at least write about it!)

I began working with silk cocoons a little over a year ago. Chrysalises and cocoons are so amazing to me & metamorphosis has been a theme that I never seem to tire of exploring. I have fallen madly in love with the golden cocoons of the Cricula Trifenestrata silk moth.

The honey to gold toned fibers have the most beautiful metallic sheen. Such a unique surface texture...I am the process of sewing trimmed cocoons into panels & then into cubes which will be illuminated from within. There is a white Bombyx Mori silk moth cocoon within each cube and the light source will be concealed within. The project is evolving as I go...I see the cubes filling an entire space-possibly stacked or grouped so the one can walk through the 5ft (at least) pilings or rows.

Required: Patience, thread and many many many cocoons.

The sustainability of this material is really important to me.

The moths have been the bane of Indonesian cashew farmers for years and now they are able to harvest the hatched cocoons for the growing indonesian silk industry.

Madness in Tangible Form

Perhaps I suffer from OCD.

If I didn't give in to the mad activities that my imagination dictates would I run amuck in the streets?! My large scale installation projects generally take many months and even years to complete and I sincerely don't know when it was that I acquired the necessary patience to see them through.

The first capsule project that I had the good fortune to show (gelatin capsules filled with feathers) was over 5 ft in length and I see this piece even larger. I would like the current capsule panel to hang from ceiling to floor. (Maybe I'll finish this before I turn 100!!?!)

The gelatin capsule beading began over 10 years ago. (writing that figure just now was very sobering-all of a sudden I feel quite geriatric!) I am definitely a process oriented artist-endeavor first question later. This has made writing artist's statements a little burdensome..it would be so much easier to say "I have created this body of work simply because I am stark raving mad."

I have always loved the impermanence of natural & semi-natural materials...even if it means that a piece may not survive in it's original form...if is survives all. There is something truly amazing to me about the cyclical process of creation and destruction. I am fascinated by the changes that time and the elements have on objects.

Rust...weathering...dissolution.

I love the idea of creating something in collaboration with unpredictable natural forces. I see this most when I work with beeswax & resins...the outcome of a pour (usually onto a stretched canvas) is always a surprise of sorts-fluctuations in temperature, air movement in the room, impurities in the materials etc. So many variables contribute to the finished piece. I realize that the creative environment can be controlled to a certain degree...but I have always welcomed the uncertainty...I love the discovering...the happy accidents that lead to the next exploration. (not the accidents that result in the destruction of good clothing and pans...a lesson I have yet to learn-up there with don't pull a hangnail)

I've been working on a new series of small 5" x 7" whimsical canvases to keep me engaged while I plug away at the two large scale installation projects that are in the works...each canvas gets a coat of beeswax which I burn off slowly with a taper candle-working with the flame & smoke to create a surface texture...sometimes I repeat the process several times; building up layers of soot & wax. I'm hoping to post some collaged pieces soon on Etsy...
The pieces are currently naked and unfinished as I am
working out the the final protective resin/beeswax coating. Who needs to do the housework!??! There is too much fun to be had!

A Lump of Brown Clay

This is my favorite photograph ever taken of me.

It is about the size of a postage stamp & is kept in a tiny art nouveau ring box.

A tiny window into the past...clay...a moment of creation...of purpose. (love that while art is involved one is not cautioned or reprimanded for kneeling on chairs!)

I was so lucky to have the most wonderful art teachers around me growing up...family members & educators...

This photograph was taken, I believe, by my late grandfather Richard. He instilled in me a great reverence for Leica still photography equipment & the desire to capture pieces of the world around me which had moved me in some small or grand way.

He was a photographer with a wonderful eye for the world...we didn't talk much about his past (and I regret this often...) but I have built up a sense of him through his photographs.

Family...Travel...these were important to him.

I didn't really understand as a young kid why one of the upstairs bedrooms at his house had black tarps blocking out all of the light...I just knew that this room was a special place...a place of quiet wondering where interesting things would happen...secret creative things that as a child I could only hope to one day be a part of.

There were strange & wonderful pieces of equipment...a light which when switched on would bathe the room in a dim red light...and framed photographs on the walls.

This was a sanctuary.

I studied photography in grade school...in high school...and then went on to earn a degree in both still photography & film from the San Francisco Art Institute.

I am completely enthralled by the process of photographing...from the seeing to actualization of a print. I don't fully understand the chemistry behind the art-never wanted to completely unveil the magic behind the silver particles.
Many solitary hours within the darkroom...happy times.
I miss the tactile quality of the development process...the vinegary smell of the fix...the waiting as the hands on the timer tick tick tick...the sound of liquid sloshing back & forth in the plastic trays.

When I grow up I want to incorporate my knowledge of film & photography into a career as a Film Archivist...but that is another story...

I had the great opportunity to travel for the first time to Oaxaca, Mexico in the mid nineties...it had always been a dream of mine as I have a great fascination & reverence for the Dia De Los Muertos traditions. A WONDERFUL experience...travel ALWAYS seems to open the right doorways. While there I met a local painter and was invited to join a group of artists at a ceramic studio in town...no one there spoke the same language (Spanish, English & Japanese!!!) but somehow through creativity we were able to communicate and share one of the most enjoyable & important afternoons I have ever had. At the time it was just the perfect way to spend an afternoon...we were seated within a partially covered courtyard...so I could feel the sun and listen to a cacophony of songbirds as we sat and worked with clay. I didn't realize until I returned home to San Francisco that this afternoon would reconnect me with my heart's deepest calling...

I had started to struggle with myself as a photographer...It was such a part of me but something was missing. I was (and still am) very drawn to multiple exposures-layers of images composed to express the deeper me...I am a constructor...a collector-a bit of this added to a bit of that....

I had a special lens attachment which created a grid within my viewfinder so that I could better line up different images for the final composition. I was viewing the world through a barrier...

When Gerardo handed me a large lump of brown clay in Oaxaca...something within me aligned...I hadn't touched clay since childhood. The feel of it...triggered my near atrophied need to create with my hands-in a much more organic way. I began to realize how much I had been fighting my tools as I tried to express myself...to develop my voice. I had never considered it an option to pursue a career as a fine artist. It was unpractical, uncertain & complete taboo in my family...

And so it began...my progress and stallings (not necessarily in that order) on a very difficult path...true to the very core of myself.

All it took was a lump of brown clay...

LIFE...A Work in Progress

The time has come, once again, to forsake my comfort zone...

To leave the safety & stagnation of my little pocket of existence & reengage with the world in a much broader sense.

It is always amazing to me just how quickly one can fall asleep within one's own life. The daily routine becomes a day-a week-a year and so on.

I have always been a person of adventure...of escapade...and somehow or another I have become frozen. I am alive but not living...

I've given most of my attention to the diagnosis & treatment of a fractured vertebra over the last few years. (bodies can REALLY be a hassle!!?!) Now that I have been 'fixed' with titanium rods and screws I am finding myself beginning the slow prickly process of remembering my passions...silently smoldering deep within. The New Year has me feeling the annual need to reevaluate...

Up until a couple of years ago I had always kept a journal in book form (binder paper...napkins...) and as much as I love the tactile quality of pen on paper I have decided to send my thoughts out into the cyberspace unknown. (Oh, how I miss the fine art of Letter Writing. RIP Snail Mail...)

Within the confines of a bound journal my musings have always felt safe...private...I don't want to sacrifice my honesty or censor myself too much knowing that I am laying myself publicly bare. (so please bear with the occasional morose post!!)

Here we go...

Hold on tight...

(and Happy New Year!)