January/February/March

2007

Eye Candy and Soul Food

This little sculpture is like a candy store for the eyes. There are taffy-like textures and cotton candy colors that light up this piece. Though the references to still life are there this work is anything but still.

The surfaces are multi-faceted and multi-textured. Discarded materials make up the dimensional structure. Plexiglas, wood scraps, fabric, caulking, cardboard and paper are pieced together to create a flowering tower. Sure – the phallic references are there and one could ruminate about sexual content and latent meaning, but to meddle there would be stopping short of exploring the true intent of flower as metaphor .

The surface with its references to sticky, sweet candy and ripe sexuality may catch the eye and intrigue the mind but the deeper desire of the artist is to cultivate the spirit. There has been a tradition in the Northwest to create works that explore the relationship between life and death and to seek deeper spiritual meaning. This piece in all its frivolous adornment continues the idea of a cosmic spiritual search and a longing to better understanding the process of living.

The flower is a strong metaphor for our human existence. We spend much of our lives gaining the energy and resources to blossom. There is an expectation that a successful life will mirror the fullness of a blooming flower. That is the image that society celebrates. A full and fragrant life is highly prized. However, few want to discuss what happens when the flowering fades. And we know that each flower (and each life) will fade. We usually relegate that phase to the rubbish bin. Spent flowers as well as spent lives can offer the beautiful reality that life is not forever and that death is real so we ought to live with the best of intentions. We should consider this truth as we live each day and try to learn how to cherish that reality. It's not easy to accept life after the "bloom" and it may push us to an uncomfortable confrontation with societies imposed ideals but it is an important aspect to consider.

Visually, Pink Tower may point to the height of floral and societal achievement (full bloom) but it is truly a way finding sign that points to future realities that are equally important.

I am currently developing new works for an exhibition in June. The pieces continue to explore the idea of flower as metaphor and will employ similar surfaces, colors and image references as works from 2006. The paintings: delicate floral line drawings overlay images and surface of greater abstraction. The works on paper: a combination of graphite and watercolor point to botanical reference manuals and mid-century fabric and wallpaper design. The sculptures: a variety of materials from cast silver to blown glass will be used to give dimension to works that complement the two-dimensional images.

In addition to the works with floral underpinnings I am developing pieces that investigate and reference portraiture. For quite some time I've had the desire to create works that document those individuals that have had an influence on my life. Yet out of a self imposed focus and external pressures to recreate what I've made before I continued to deny myself the right to explore that desire. It took the urging of a friend and fellow painter visiting from Vienna to free me from myself. I'm thankful to his encouraging words that reminded me of the need to continually explore. He helped open the door to this new adventure. Look for examples of these works in the upcoming newsletters.

Winter Event Feature

Artist Trust Auction

February 3, 2007 6:00pm-midnight

Pink Tower, the sculpture featured at the top of this newsletter, will be auctioned off at the 20th anniversary benefit auction for Artist Trust. The proceeds will go to support individual artists across Washington, through fellowship awards and grants. The auction will be held at the Seattle Center Fisher Pavilion.

Click here for additional auction information.

Imposed Contemplation

In recent years winter in Walla Walla has consisted mainly of dense fog and a sunless sky. Fortunately (I can say that now), this year has provided more of the same. The shroud of grey that envelops this little town is a neutralizer of color. It is an enforcer of quiet, contemplative days.

In the past I've loathed these frigid months of imposed limited vision – but this year I'm experiencing it differently. Something in me has changed and has caused me to rethink my reaction to the dreary weather. Embracing this time as a recharging opportunity has caused me to consider it as an imperative to seeking a balanced life.

I have found that a parallel to this exists in my studio experience. For me, creating art is an intense encounter that requires focus and a diligent working out of ideas in a physical manner. When I start in on a new work I am driven by a seemingly endless desire for energetic exploration, but I have come to know that I need down time so I can gain perspective by considering the work from a distance. Without that contemplative time I find that I have less clarity about the work and less objectivity too.

If I continue to run headlong into life or a work of art without stopping to survey my actions and experiences I'm left with fewer opportunities to make objective, educated decisions about my desired outcome. Look to the grey of winter as an occasion to seek greater balance in life. It will help prepare you for the rich, energetic months ahead.

Creating Hope for Kids

Recently I was asked to collaborate on a sculpture with a patient from Children's Hospital in Seattle. Meet Rochelle – she's the sweet, young lady (obviously the 'beauty') in the photo above. Together we would create a work of art that would in some way express her emotions and experiences with her illness. Rochelle was diagnosed with Juvenile Rheumatoid Arthritis and underwent treatment at Children's Hospital. Her life was changed in an instant. Many of the things that she had fully enjoyed – like gymnastics – were no longer an option for her.

Rochelle and I met on numerous occasions and as she relayed her story to me I worked to create a sculpture that dealt with various aspects of her experience from the physical to the spiritual.

The sculptural elements are metaphors for Rochelle and her experiences. The vessel speaks of her fragile body, the sticks and their bound joints suggest the inflammation of joints throughout her body, the glass disc references her spiritual yearning, the bowl is a visual replacement for her heart (and its passions), and finally the blossom is the hope that she carries with her – knowing that hope is what sustains her and moves her forward.

Together, Rochelle and I presented this work at the Children's Hospital Season of Lights Auction in Seattle. We were pleased that we could collaborate in this way to help raise money that will contribute to further research and care for children throughout the Northwest. If you would like to get involved with Children's Hospital or donate funds to help them continue their lifesaving work please visit their web site www.waystohelp.seattlechildrens.org or email me for more information.

I have been doing some reading in a book about Wabi-Sabi, which is a somewhat obscure and loosely defined term that is rooted in a specific vein of Japanese aesthetic. I found the concepts quite interesting and wanted to pass some of the thoughts along to you. At first glance the sentences look small, but the depth of the concepts is vast. The book, written by Leonard Koren, is called Wabi-Sabi for Artists, Designers, Poets and Philosophers. If the concepts interest you – try to find a copy of the book, buy it and enjoy it.

- "Truth comes from the observation of nature"

- "All things are impermanent"

- "All things are imperfect"

- "All things are incomplete"

- "Greatness exists in the inconspicuous and overlooked details"

I hope you enjoy those thoughts and consider them from time to time as you go about your day.