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This week was an interesting one in both art and gardens- really, art and kitchen/gardens but that is even more of a mouthful.
5 years ago I was part of a group that built a clay bread oven at the Catskill Native Nursery. It took 12 of us stalwart souls- or 24 soles as you will see- to build the oven over an exhausting 2 days of work. The expert who ran the workshop built the base out of stone and gravel but it was up to us to construct the beehive oven out of native clay, straw, plus blood, sweat and tears with a large side-order of advil. The clay was very, very stiff, not like the clay you might use for throwing pots or making sculpture, so mixing in the straw binder was quite difficult. We ended up putting a mound of clay and straw on a tarpaulin and attacking it with our bare feet. We pounded and stomped until the mound was reduced to a pancake. We then rolled the pancake back into the center by lifting and pulling the tarp. It usually took us 5 rounds of this to get the consistency we needed. Then we took fist-sized gobs of the mixture and working in rows, slowly built up the dome of the oven. That was the first layer. the next day we got to do it all over again to build the walls to the correct thickness (8") At the end of the weekend, I would have gladly agreed to have my shins removed, I hobbled around for about a week before the muscles recovered.
Why describe this process? Well, Diane- one of my bosses at CNN- has tried to do a pizza-making session every year since then but it has inevitably rained out. (the oven still does not have a roof over it so it can only be used in fair weather) She has cooked in the oven several times for herself and her partner, Francis, but not yet with a group of people. This past Sunday was our day. I helped tend the fire to heat the oven up. This can take 3 hours to do properly. Unfortunately, we jumped the gun a bit in our enthusiam and the oven was not quite as hot as it should have been so the pizzas did not bake in the proper 1 minute's exposure to the 700 degree heat. But it was still good.
The dough I made was overworked and therefore just too darn springy- it just would not hold a proper pizza thinness. But even so, I enjoyed it immensely and hope we can try again next season. Then it was back to work putting the nursery to bed for the winter. A nice respite from the usually quiet work of cutting back, sorting and binning.
On the art side, I mentioned below that I had done a piece for the recent "Small Works" show at the WAAM but had neglected to photograph it before running out the door to submit it. Well, I won't get the chance now to take the picture. I got a call on Saturday from the gallery saying that a Dutch couple wanted to buy the piece and they were going to take it with them- Sunday was the last day for the show anyway, and they were heading back to The Netherlands. So I wish it: "Vaarwel, weinig werken van kunst. Ga naar een goede thuis."(Farewell, little art work. Go to a good home.)I also picked up my piece "Prosthesis" and dropped off a small piece for the annual Holiday Show & Sale. The Holidays?... egad
Its been about a year since I changed my domain name and the look of my website, from Thrums End Art Studio to Buttonwood Art. Today I made another detachment from the past. I deleted the bit from my site that expanded on the reason for the change. Its time to move on and I am tired of the recitation of the litany.
I do not "regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it," but it's time to look forward.
I was reading the BBC newsfeedand saw an article about Andrew Lloyd Weber. The accompanying image struck me, so I did a little Google image search. The result:
Separated at Birth:
Nothing more to see here, move along, move along.
nothing gained. Well, my Kickstarter project failed to reach its goal by the deadline so its over. I would like to thank everyone who pledged, who supported my work. I am so very grateful.
What will I do now?
I have another month of work at the nursery so I will keep on at that and also start looking for another job. I am applying for a NYFA grant but that is another gamble and wouldn't be until April if I got it. I will still try to get my work seen by gallery owners in areas outside of the Hudson Valley, it will just take a bit longer than I had hoped.
A few weeks ago I got an email from someone saying essentially "Who do I think I am, asking people to support me so I can do art?" I must say it kind of soured the process a bit for me, especially when I was struggling to finish pieces for the shows at the WAAM mentioned below, but apparently that was the desired effect. (And I do have to mention, to be fair, that this person has reason to have a grudge against me, but I am unable right now to complete my amends.)
I really do think art is what I should be doing, so I will keep at it, come hell, highwater, ill-wishers and recession. Who knows, there may be some red-dots (sold stickers) on some of my pieces- stranger things have happened.
Again, thank you to everyone who pledged, my heart is so full.
A big weekend over the 17th & 18th. I was working at the nursery's booth at the Sheep&Wool Festival across the river in Rhinebeck. This is an annual fiber-fest when the fair grounds become a womens' tribal council for those 2 days. Oh, there are men there but the vibe is overwhelmingly female. All the various knitting/spinning tribes were represented- the Dames, the Earth Mothers, the Middle-American Crafters and the Urban Hipsters. The binding thread that connected them all was wool, from the sheep to the distaff to the dyepot, the winder, and the needles. It was cold, very cold, but a bustling day on Saturday. I had to leave the booth a bit early to drive to Woodstock for some art events.
I had my 4 openings this past Saturday. A triple-header at the WAAM; Mixed-Media (juried,) Small Works (juried,) and 11PICK2, an invitational in the Towbin Wing, usually the home of the permanent collection. Still patting myself on the back a bit about that one. I was very happy and honored to be in the company of many of my favorite living artist-members of the WAAM. I am sitting at the grown-ups' table.
I left those openings a bit early to get to my show of 8 works at Oriole9, a delightful restaurant right across the road from the WAAM. I was very pleased at how good the pieces looked in the setting. I had to wait for the crowd to finish their devastation of the spread the staff set out for the reception, but after they were done licking their fingers they turned their attentions to the art on the walls.
I sat in a corner and just watched people. I was just plain knackered from working at the fair all day and all the run-up to these openings, so I let others come to me if they wanted to. Many compliments on the art. One comment left me somewhat speechless, however- someone came over to where I was sitting and said that they thought I was one of those artists who would become famous after they died...
So, do I opt for instant fame or struggle along for another 40 years...?
Bemusement reigns.
(photo courtesy of Loel Barr, thanks Annie!)
(Now, where's that Photoshop filter that takes off 50 lbs...)
The eye is much better thanks to Dr. O'Hara. I do not have a patch but I am wearing a "bandage contact," so no pirate jokes. Yesterday, she dilated the pupil of my eye before putting in the contact so I sported a slight resemblance to David Bowie- well, if David Bowie was an overweight, middle-aged woman. It made working a bit interesting but not impossible.
All the art is done and delivered, some to be hung, some to be juried and then maybe hung.
Here is the piece I did for the Mixed Media show, I'll know tomorrow evening if I got in or not. No image of the piece I entered in the Small Works show- slapped the glass on it and was out the door.
Anyway, it is titled "Prosthesis." Nice and cheerful, don't you think?
I have often said, when asked how an experience was, "better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick." Well, now I have a real benchmark for that statement. I was at work today at the nursery and was repotting some large shrubs preperatory to closing down for the winter. I bent down and bingo! Fortunately it is just a scratch but boy these things sting like the dickens. I've had scratched corneas before so I know the drill. Thank heavens I didn't have more downward momentum, that could have been very bad indeed. Now for a week of jokes about pirates... and just in time for 2 biggish art openings for shows* my work is in...
*WAAM/"Eleven Pick Two" & Oriole 9, Woodstock NY.
Last weekend at the nursery, I was clearing a small area near some rotting logs and found a nest of young eastern milk snakes. It was interesting watching them up close, they reminded me of inlaid enameled bracelets, they looked so perfect and intricate. There is also a group of large garter snakes that hang out under the potting shed, even though they are quite harmless, their drab colors give them a slight air of menace. Both of these species help keep down the rodent population so I am glad- and feel a bit priviledged- to see them.
