I had stopped in a little hardscrabble crossroads in Roy, NM to use the bathroom in the hamlet's sole business, a gas station/convenience store. There I found out that Hades was missing its guard dog, the three-headed Cerebrus. That is if Cerebrus had split itself into 3 tiny but fierce Chihuahuas. Their sole focus being harassing any one who dared to set foot in Roy. Guy on bicycle? Chase him for 100 yards, barking ferociously. Guy on motorcycle? Surround it and bark ferociously. Woman in Subaru who desperately needs to pee? Block the door to the loo, barking ferociously.
I stepped over the dogs and into the lavatory, I did my business to a nonstop chorus of barking. Got into my car with the barking unabated. Left Roy, NM with my escort following in my wake. Eat my dust you little buggers, eat my dust.
Bits & bobs of my life as an artist, bricoleur, mythologenist, logophile, reader, thinker and tea-drinker
Sunday, November 9, 2014
Thursday, November 6, 2014
Nebraska, Colorado
Goodbye, Lincoln.
Heading out into the wide open today. Seemingly endless fields, broken up by a farmhouse here and there. Many large cedars dot the roadsides along with what might be Jack, Pitch or Red pines.
I stopped at the Crane Conservancy site and took a walk on one of the trails over the wetlands. I heard that unmistakeable call and looked up. 2 loose skeins of cranes flew overhead heading south. I think, I hope, they were Sandhills. Alas, they do not stop over in the Nebraska Sandhills on their migration in the winter; they kept flying and calling off to warmer climes. I feel very privileged to have heard their calls and to have seen them fly over.
My drive through the rest of Nebraska was uneventful but I did notice the terrain becoming hillier and cattle replaced corn fields the closer I got to Colorado. Public radio finally gave out about 100 miles from the border, not even classical music to keep me company.
Once in Colorado, the terrains really changed. Sagebrush appeared, hills upon hills, the earth no longer seems like a plate with long horizons; it was closing in upon itself a bit. The big sky lost a little around the edges.
I saw a train on a siding that was conveying windmill blades, again I was struck by their sculptural shapes and their scale. They were nose to tail, tail to nose and onwards.
Another new thing in Colorado, the feedlots and their attendant aromas.
I am ready to get to the Canyon and pick up the business of my residency. Even though the landscapes are fascinating, the driving is beginning to pall. I want to unpack my supplies, make myself a cup of Earl Grey, and get to work. I tried to work in my motel room in Lincoln, but the lighting and seating were not good, finding the supplies I needed was difficult- I had packed for ease of transport, not ease of access, the simplest task was difficult, and the whole enterprise frustrating.
Only 3 more days and I can get to work, I do not have access to my Photoshop so I can't make my little graphic but here is my state of mind:
35% exhausted
60% excited
5% homesick
Heading out into the wide open today. Seemingly endless fields, broken up by a farmhouse here and there. Many large cedars dot the roadsides along with what might be Jack, Pitch or Red pines.
I stopped at the Crane Conservancy site and took a walk on one of the trails over the wetlands. I heard that unmistakeable call and looked up. 2 loose skeins of cranes flew overhead heading south. I think, I hope, they were Sandhills. Alas, they do not stop over in the Nebraska Sandhills on their migration in the winter; they kept flying and calling off to warmer climes. I feel very privileged to have heard their calls and to have seen them fly over.
My drive through the rest of Nebraska was uneventful but I did notice the terrain becoming hillier and cattle replaced corn fields the closer I got to Colorado. Public radio finally gave out about 100 miles from the border, not even classical music to keep me company.
Once in Colorado, the terrains really changed. Sagebrush appeared, hills upon hills, the earth no longer seems like a plate with long horizons; it was closing in upon itself a bit. The big sky lost a little around the edges.
I saw a train on a siding that was conveying windmill blades, again I was struck by their sculptural shapes and their scale. They were nose to tail, tail to nose and onwards.
Another new thing in Colorado, the feedlots and their attendant aromas.
I am ready to get to the Canyon and pick up the business of my residency. Even though the landscapes are fascinating, the driving is beginning to pall. I want to unpack my supplies, make myself a cup of Earl Grey, and get to work. I tried to work in my motel room in Lincoln, but the lighting and seating were not good, finding the supplies I needed was difficult- I had packed for ease of transport, not ease of access, the simplest task was difficult, and the whole enterprise frustrating.
Only 3 more days and I can get to work, I do not have access to my Photoshop so I can't make my little graphic but here is my state of mind:
35% exhausted
60% excited
5% homesick
Wednesday, November 5, 2014
Illinois, Iowa, Nebraska
Lincoln, Nebraska.
Things horticultural that I saw as I sped along rte 80-West: a species of cattail I had not seen before. Common Cattails, Typha latifolia is common throughout the northeast, Slender Cattail, T. angustifolia is also found but not as common. There is a questiona s to whether T. angustifolia is a native or not. As to those two species, I personally prefer the slender form. The Cattails I saw in the roadside ditches here was a form between the robust and gracile. There is a southern species found here that appears to be this intermediate form. This is probably not so exciting to you but it kept my brain entertained for more than a few miles.
I also was happy to see some large, old Osage Orange, Maclura Porifera, trees in a well established hedgerow. Again, entertainment for a stultifying brain pan.
The third botanical event of note was long stretches of nascent hedgerows planted exclusively with red-twig dogwood, Cornus serica. Hundreds of feet of thickly planted dogwoods making a deep red broken stripe edging the duns, buffs and umbers of the harvested fields. And only on the fields on the north side of the roadway.
Then the highlight of the day's journey. I drove through 2 massive wind farms. All day I had been seeing semis pulling trailers loaded with single, enormous windmill blades. They looked like the remains of pleisiosaurs from some rediscovered Cretaeceous sea. Then, cresting a hill, I could see a hundred windmills marching across the rolling landscape. They were still distant and their scale somewhat graspable. Getting closer, they appeared more and more uncanny. They seemed to swell and enlarge, their huge blades gracefully sweeping through the air, their clean white surfaces unreal against the stubble and freshly plowed black earth. I began to giggle and then laugh uneasily. I was reminded of the tripods of the War of the Worlds. They marched on and on, fading as they rolled toward the horizon. I was shivery with awe and a mixture of fear and delight. I was an ant passing through the city of our robot overlords. A shrew in a world where Chixchulub never happened, scurrying around the feet of giants.
Then they were receding and I could only glimpse them through the rear view mirror, then they were hidden by the folds of the earth. I drove on through the bright day, trying to regain my sense of proportion.
.........
On a less philosophical note, I stopped for lunch in Des Moines. I also stopped in at West Side Salvage, a salvage depot featured in a series on cable TV. They had many nice things but unfortunately too many of the pieces had been "improved" by the shop with faked antiqued paint, etcetcetc. But I was not in the market for furniture, although I did find some nice lighting fixtures salvaged from an old church, so I was able to pass through wallet unscathed.
I have been making too good time, and am ahead of my schedule. So I will dawdle today and tomorrow head to Denver to reconnect with a High School friend. I will take some time today to make some art perhaps. The long day giving me the opportunity to drag my supplies in from the car.
Things horticultural that I saw as I sped along rte 80-West: a species of cattail I had not seen before. Common Cattails, Typha latifolia is common throughout the northeast, Slender Cattail, T. angustifolia is also found but not as common. There is a questiona s to whether T. angustifolia is a native or not. As to those two species, I personally prefer the slender form. The Cattails I saw in the roadside ditches here was a form between the robust and gracile. There is a southern species found here that appears to be this intermediate form. This is probably not so exciting to you but it kept my brain entertained for more than a few miles.
I also was happy to see some large, old Osage Orange, Maclura Porifera, trees in a well established hedgerow. Again, entertainment for a stultifying brain pan.
The third botanical event of note was long stretches of nascent hedgerows planted exclusively with red-twig dogwood, Cornus serica. Hundreds of feet of thickly planted dogwoods making a deep red broken stripe edging the duns, buffs and umbers of the harvested fields. And only on the fields on the north side of the roadway.
Then the highlight of the day's journey. I drove through 2 massive wind farms. All day I had been seeing semis pulling trailers loaded with single, enormous windmill blades. They looked like the remains of pleisiosaurs from some rediscovered Cretaeceous sea. Then, cresting a hill, I could see a hundred windmills marching across the rolling landscape. They were still distant and their scale somewhat graspable. Getting closer, they appeared more and more uncanny. They seemed to swell and enlarge, their huge blades gracefully sweeping through the air, their clean white surfaces unreal against the stubble and freshly plowed black earth. I began to giggle and then laugh uneasily. I was reminded of the tripods of the War of the Worlds. They marched on and on, fading as they rolled toward the horizon. I was shivery with awe and a mixture of fear and delight. I was an ant passing through the city of our robot overlords. A shrew in a world where Chixchulub never happened, scurrying around the feet of giants.
Then they were receding and I could only glimpse them through the rear view mirror, then they were hidden by the folds of the earth. I drove on through the bright day, trying to regain my sense of proportion.
.........
On a less philosophical note, I stopped for lunch in Des Moines. I also stopped in at West Side Salvage, a salvage depot featured in a series on cable TV. They had many nice things but unfortunately too many of the pieces had been "improved" by the shop with faked antiqued paint, etcetcetc. But I was not in the market for furniture, although I did find some nice lighting fixtures salvaged from an old church, so I was able to pass through wallet unscathed.
I have been making too good time, and am ahead of my schedule. So I will dawdle today and tomorrow head to Denver to reconnect with a High School friend. I will take some time today to make some art perhaps. The long day giving me the opportunity to drag my supplies in from the car.
Monday, November 3, 2014
On my way
I am officially on my way to my residency at the Grand Canyon. I left the Hudson Valley very early in the morning on Sunday, amidst the remnants of the Wild Ride still blowing through the trees. Talk about a dark and stormy night! Okay, a dark and stormy early dawn. No matter, I left on time heading west towards Ohio.
I've made this drive many times, I grew up in northeastern Ohio, and my family is still there. But I have not been back for too many years. Up and over the Poconos section of the Appalachians, the forest lining the highway is loaded with Rhododendron maximum and a scattering of Kalmia. The road cuts, especially just east of Loch Haven in PA, are dramatic and the views are lovely. I did pass a number of dead porcupines by the roadside and later wished I had followed my instincts and stopped to pull some quills, ah well, perhaps on the way back. I stopped for lunch in Lewisburg and strolled around an antiques mall I remembered, but the small family restaurant I remembered was gone. I picked up a few small, old, wooden boxes for more pieces for the "Portals" series.
I spent my first night on the road at my younger brother's home after having had a nice supper of Thai food with my whole family minus 1. Missed you, Chelsea! I even met one of my nieces for the first time, she is 9 years old. The food was entirely secondary, however, my real sustenance came from being with my family again after such a long absence.
I hit the road again at a reasonable hour this morning and kept going west. The landscape across PA was typically rolling and forested. As I drove west, suddenly the landscape opened out and flattened, corn fields replaced oaks and rhodies. The first drive was a somewhat grueling 10 hrs, today's drive was a more leisurely 6 hours. I am in a decent motel in Joliet, Illinois. May spend some of my evening starting work on a new Portal. I'll let you know.
I've made this drive many times, I grew up in northeastern Ohio, and my family is still there. But I have not been back for too many years. Up and over the Poconos section of the Appalachians, the forest lining the highway is loaded with Rhododendron maximum and a scattering of Kalmia. The road cuts, especially just east of Loch Haven in PA, are dramatic and the views are lovely. I did pass a number of dead porcupines by the roadside and later wished I had followed my instincts and stopped to pull some quills, ah well, perhaps on the way back. I stopped for lunch in Lewisburg and strolled around an antiques mall I remembered, but the small family restaurant I remembered was gone. I picked up a few small, old, wooden boxes for more pieces for the "Portals" series.
I spent my first night on the road at my younger brother's home after having had a nice supper of Thai food with my whole family minus 1. Missed you, Chelsea! I even met one of my nieces for the first time, she is 9 years old. The food was entirely secondary, however, my real sustenance came from being with my family again after such a long absence.
I hit the road again at a reasonable hour this morning and kept going west. The landscape across PA was typically rolling and forested. As I drove west, suddenly the landscape opened out and flattened, corn fields replaced oaks and rhodies. The first drive was a somewhat grueling 10 hrs, today's drive was a more leisurely 6 hours. I am in a decent motel in Joliet, Illinois. May spend some of my evening starting work on a new Portal. I'll let you know.
Wednesday, October 22, 2014
Preparing & Procrastinating
12 days and counting. Putting things together, knocking tasks off my list.
Latest work- now I have to stop making new work and frame the recent pieces. I have an exhibition opportunity coming up- while I am away- so I need to have the works together for the curator to choose from.
"Rude Mechanicals: Mechanism on the Alchemical Catenary Between Desire & Action, " Bricolage w/ various inclusions, 18"x24", 2014
Latest work- now I have to stop making new work and frame the recent pieces. I have an exhibition opportunity coming up- while I am away- so I need to have the works together for the curator to choose from.
"Rude Mechanicals: Mechanism on the Alchemical Catenary Between Desire & Action, " Bricolage w/ various inclusions, 18"x24", 2014
Thursday, October 9, 2014
Getting the Rust Out
I am coming back to my blog in preparation for a grand adventure this November. I am going to be spending three weeks at the Grand Canyon (yeah, that Grand Canyon) as Artist-In-Residence. The focus of my work will be the creation stories of some of the local peoples.
I will be posting as things go along, especially once I hit the road and once I am there.
Speaking of rust, here is a new piece from the series, "Portals," small discarded drawers, wooden boxes, etc that open to other places.
I will be posting as things go along, especially once I hit the road and once I am there.
Speaking of rust, here is a new piece from the series, "Portals," small discarded drawers, wooden boxes, etc that open to other places.
Wednesday, May 11, 2011
Spring, 2011
When I was growing up in a small town in the northeast corner of Ohio, every spring was welcomed with a miracle. The forest floor in the municipal forest erupted in a glory of wildflowers. Much of the forest is floodplain, beech and sycamore predominate, on higher ground large stands of conifers. The wildflower carpet was composed largely of Virginia Bluebells (Mertensia virginica) with Trilliums (T. grandiflorum, erectum, cuneatum and a few others,) Hepaticas, Spring Beauties (Claytonia virginica,) Marsh Marigolds (Caltha palustris,) and other ephemerals. I first learned to love native flora there and have carried the memory of that landscape in my heart and mind's eyes ever since.
I got an email from an old friend who has moved back to our hometown to care for aging parents. She is involved in a fund-raising art auction to support the forest. I was immediately thrown back to the sensations of wandering the paths through that explosion of color and abundance. A balm for a flagging, apartment-bound spirit.
Here is the piece I did to contribute to the effort to keep the forest safe- a small bit of debt-repayment to the earth. (Trillium grandiflorum, ©PMLaw/MMXI)
I got an email from an old friend who has moved back to our hometown to care for aging parents. She is involved in a fund-raising art auction to support the forest. I was immediately thrown back to the sensations of wandering the paths through that explosion of color and abundance. A balm for a flagging, apartment-bound spirit.
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