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March 2006 |
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3-1-06 I am feeling less than brilliant. The end of last month I made some lovely bookcloth to use in binding a book for a friend. I had loafed all winter, doing very little creative, and finding this cloth was an inspiration to get back into things. So, today I got everything out to begin on the book, then discovered that I have absolutely NO paper that is a suitable color for endsheets and pastedowns. I have gray, but that paper has a brownish cast. I have blue, but the blues clash. I have a rich gold that would work, but the paper is too heavy. I have white, but the signatures will be cream. Bah! And there is no place in Berea to purchase anything that would work, not even the College bookstore. So, this project goes on hold until I can go to Lexington. 3-4-05 My husband and I spent yesterday at the Kentucky Craft Market. Gorgeous work, beautifully displayed! And inspiring. I came home with the urge to get with it, even though I didn't know what "with it" was at the time. And to be honest, I still don't know exactly where I'm headed, but I have a start. The underlying clay pot is by Sarah Holcomb. I'm using it as a beginning form to build on, but the final shape, as I have it envisioned, will bear little resemblance even to the shape of Sarah's pot. I intend to incorporate Kentucky coffeetree leaf stems as ribs, but beyond that, I'm not certain. For me, creating a piece is like writing a story. Ideas come along during the process and shift the whole storyline. Right now, a little over half the pot is covered in one layer of paper. I'll allow this to dry, cover the paper with Saran wrap, then cover the other side of the pot, leaving about an inch overlap. Because the Saran wrap separates the sides, when the second side is dry, I can pull the sides apart to remove the pot, then seal the sides together to form a solid shape. I did this last year with varying degrees of success. Sometimes the split form worked, sometimes the splits didn't fit back together perfectly. At that time, I was attempting to form regularly shaped vessels, so irregularities weren't welcome. This time I'm not shooting for evenness or perfection. I simply want a solid form on which to begin the piece. This is a hickory piece done last year using this technique that worked out nicely. It was formed in two pieces, faux stitching was run along the edge of one piece and then the pieces were joined to form a whole. 3-6-06 The half covered piece was dry yesterday, so I put Saran Wrap over it and covered the other side with wet sheets, making sure to overlap about an inch. The bottom was recovered, as well, with a layer of wrap between the two bottoms so they would separate. The double bottoms make it easier to align the two sections when joining them. Today I peeled both pieces off the form, then joined them into one. I'm really well pleased with how evenly the sides coupled. Sometimes the pieces warp slightly, throwing the whole thing off. I think the key is to feather the edges using only one layer on the overlap rather than two...or maybe not. Perhaps just a good dose of blind luck is involved. The plan for this piece was to use coffeetree leaf stems to form ribs along the sides, but I'm too pleased with the shape of this one and don't want to ruin that aspect. Not sure where I'll go with it yet. The piece will sit on the shelf over the computer until it tells me what it wants to be. In the meantime, I started another one that may work far better, shape-wise, with the coffeetree stems. It's taller and formed over a wine bottle. I covered from the neck working downward until I got to the bottom, then couldn't figure out how to balance it so I could cover that part. Finally hit up on the idea of using a section of river cane (native bamboo) stuck in my cardboard scrap box as a support. Not high tech, but it works. This is a different paper, one pulled from odds and ends scraps at the tail end of last year. It's just plain ugly, but that's okay. It is made from good fibers and will form a solid base for the outside sheets, which will be a more visually pleasing paper. (I had to thaw out every package of frozen sheets I had today to find this paper. I truly meant to mark the packages last year before I froze them, and honestly thought I had until I got them out. Only one had any indication of what was frozen inside, and that had smeared and unreadable. I'll refreeze the packages tomorrow...with proper labels! 3-8-06 Yesterday when the first half of the wine bottle was dry (or rather, I thought it was dry), I recovered the whole thing with Saran Wrap, then covered the second half with wet sheets and set it to dry again. Today, when the wrap came off, I learned something. Even though that first half had seemed dry, it wasn't, and it had sweated under the wrapping and become soft. I had to leave it on the bottle, unwrapped and exposed to air, until it was fully dry before popping it off the bottle. No damage done, both halves are fine, but if that damp half had been popped off while still soft, it would have warped. This is a shot of the joined halves with one of the seams toward the camera. The joint is invisible. (The one thing I dislike about working with cast forms is the drying time. Not being able to work straight through on a piece is disconcerting. When I have an idea, I want to execute it! Bah!) I'm not exactly certain how this piece will evolve, but the plan is to incorporate the curved coffeetree leaf stems as a base or support. We'll see. **I'm also working on a basket piece for a friend. She used the words "voluptuous" and "hip-ish-ness" in describing what she liked. Ha! This gives a twisted mind much room to ramble, as far as weaving goes. The piece is woven on a hosta leaf stem warp. The weft is daylily leaves, woolgrass leaves and more hosta. Later, if the piece looks "right," a row or two of braided mulberry root bast will go in toward the the top. And if it doesn't, I'll do a different one. 3-12-06 The last few days have been spent outside. After being cooped up all winter, who could stay in with temperatures in the low 70's? There were flowerbeds to clean, stray leaves to rake, small limbs to pick up, and all of this stuff to run through the shredder. And of course, last year's compost heap demanded to be turned...and the heap isn't small. I paid for doing all this, but it was worth the soreness. I love spring! But it's still too early to drag out the papermaking stuff -- there's a 40 some-odd degree day in the forecast -- but it won't be long. **Today's rain kept me inside, so I finished the basket I've been working on. I enjoy negotiating with the materials, first letting them tell me what they want to do, then coaxing them more toward what I have in mind. But ultimately, the basket becomes a collaborative effort. I encouraged the warps and twists of this one. No perfect symmetrical shape for a friend who asks for "voluptuous" and "hip-ish-ness." 3-14-06 I'm back working on the vase I started on the 4th. It simply wasn't sturdy enough for what I had in mind, so I went over it with another coat of some weirdly colored but strong paper I found in the freezer. When that dried, I put another coat of the original okra bast with willow inclusions. You can still see some of the weird paper toward the top. When the base is fully dry, I'll recover the top part so that won't show. What I have in mind is using grapevine tendrils around the top, though that's not set it stone. I didn't have any tendrils in my stash of "everything except what I need," but I knew there were some in the hedgerows behind Churchill Weavers. Just took a few minutes to gather a double handful. There is so much stuff out there that has potential, and I couldn't resist dragging home an eight foot length of delightfully twisted bittersweet vine. Do I need it? No. But it's coiled into a lovely circle that will hang in the garage until...well, until it speaks. While I was at it today, I finished up the top of the wine bottle and mounted that on the base, then put the final coat of paper on the bottom. The top will get another coat when I decide what direction it's going. Not sure, but this, along with another idea I have, may be my piece for a local art exhibit. We'll see how the second half of the idea goes before I commit. 3-16-06 Every year, the Berea Arts Council sponsors an exhibit for the entire community called "Art for the Fun of It." Everyone, from professional to amateur to hobbyist, exhibits together, and surprisingly, even without jurying, it works and does so beautifully. Grade school kids get a chance to see their pieces exhibited alongside the work of professionals. And professionals often exhibit in fields outside their expertise. The exhibit is just as its name states - art for the fun of it. And of course, this appeals to my warped and twisted sense of humor. I think the wine bottle started the whole idea, that and the "a jug of wine, a loaf of bread and thou" phrase, which was running through my head the other day. I had wine. I had paper. What hindereth me from making a loaf of bread? The form was all I lacked. A roll of newspaper, crushed on one end, served that purpose. (After all, it would need to be a long loaf of French bread with the wine, right?) I covered this with a nice sheet of natural hickory bark paper. I let that dry, then cut slits in the top, filled those with a slightly yellowish brown paper I'd found in the freezer. The cut end was covered with bleached hickory, then the edges of the cuts and around the end with retouched with bits of hickory. And voila, we have a loaf of bread. Here is another shot from a different angle. Looks good enough to eat, doesn't it? I wish I were as happy with the wine bottle. The top is my problem. I'm not at all pleased with the paper I chose for a wrapper. Fortunately, I'm not locked into this. It can be recovered yet again when I find or make what I want. I've designed a label for the bottle that reads: Fox and Grape, Richmond Run Winery, Berea, KY (which is a long story, better saved for another day.) 3-19-06 I have done precious little creative over the past few days. The warm, pleasant days earlier this month spoiled me. Now, the cold cloudiness and occasional snow flurries have sent me scurrying back into uninspired winter cocoon mode. Bah! I did promise the story behind the wine bottle label, so perhaps now is the time to share it. It's not a grand and glorious tale, just a reflection on the mores of the area where I live tinged by my warped sense of humor. Berea and surrounding Madison County are dry. (For those who are unfamiliar with the terms "dry" and "wet," liquor/wine/beer cannot be sold in a dry city or county, only in areas that have voted wet.) Berea is a college town with Christian roots, which may account in part for the dry vote here. A referendum comes up periodically, and just as regularly, liquor is always voted down. Now, that's not to say that alcohol isn't consumed in Berea, just not purchasable here. The majority of residents seem to find this an acceptable situation, perhaps in part because Richmond, the county seat and only 10 miles north up the Interstate, is wet. It's not unusual for me to run into Berea residents in Richmond liquor stores, and always the thought "Ah, I bet you voted wet" pops immediately to mind. But that really isn't a valid conclusion. I'm there. I voted dry. Why, if I like my wine at night, did I vote dry? I'm selfish. I like Berea just the way it is - small town America. Bigger, with access to more, is not always better. (I know...the town won't stay exactly the way it is now, that doesn't happen, but the slower the change, the more time I'll have to adjust.) So, back to the label, which is what this whole tale is about. The wine bottle is intended for the "Art for the Fun of It" exhibit, a community art show. And because a goodly portion of this town periodically makes a Richmond run for liquor, I think that part of the community needs representation at the show, too. Hence, Fox and Grape, Richmond Run Winery, Berea KY. 3-20-06 I rewrapped the top of the wine bottle with sheets of curly dock and I'm considerably happier now. The colors in the curly dock are much more appropriate for a wine bottle. These were dry sheets made last fall and it was interesting gluing them down. When i applied the cornstarch paste to the backside, they began wrinkling and warping. This smoothed out when I applied them to the bottle, but then they began wrinkling even more. I was really concerned about this until I stopped to think...you know, if this were real, this would be paper wrapped around a bottle. It would wrinkle and have folds. Ah! So I smooth a little and left it. By the time it dried, it looked perfect. While I had fresh paste, I finished off the vase with hickory. 3-22-06 The bread and wine seem to need cheese, but I really don't think I can do that with paper. Seems more like something that should be done with polymer clay, and that's not exactly my field. We'll see. **There was some hickory left over from bread making, but no ideas popped into mind for it. I was just getting ready to bag it and refreeze when the light in the workroom burned out. Scratched around and found a good bulb, replaced the burned out one and...hmmmm...light bulb...hmmmm...nice shape... I wonder.... So, I partially covered one...then one became many. Don't ask me. I have no idea what they'll be. When they're dry, we'll sit down and talk. I'll ask them. 3-25-06 I didn't mean that last statement on the 22nd to be a joke. There's a great deal of truth in it. It's difficult for me to executing nebulous "concepts," to come up with the perfect inspiration for such as that. Ideas, at least for me, more often come from what I see in front of me. A certain material may lie on a shelf well within my sight for weeks and not suggest anything, but if I move it and see it beside something else, suddenly the two speak and I know what they will be. In a way, it's the material dictating what it should be, not me. The pieces from the light bulbs is a perfect example. I had no idea what they would be, only that their shape was intriguing. When I removed them from the bulbs, four of them were lying together, and it was a pleasing arrangement, so I joined them permanently. And as I looked at them joined, I thought...eggs...hatchlings. But a half egg isn't really interesting. There just isn't enough there. So I brought the sides up, bit by bit, until the depth of the recess could leave a question about what might have developed there. 3-26-06 The "eggs" were dry this morning, but I wasn't really pleased. The monotone of the pieces bothered me. It seemed the inside should be a different paper, a lighter one, like a fine film inside an egg. (Of course, if I had thought about this in the beginning, I would have started with a lighter paper and covered it with the hickory. And if this were a prototype, next time I would.) Lining them at this stage felt like I was going about it backward, a lot more difficult than it should have been. Still, it worked out fine and I'm far more satisfied. But now I'm not satisfied with the number or arrangement. Twos and fours always seem to be an uncomfortable number. Not sure what I'll do about that yet. 3-27-06 Ah! Spring is here...again. (January was in the 60's and 70's, Mother Nature's warped sense of humor kicking it.) I spent a good part of the day outside in the flowerbeds moving plants from one place to another and thinning some of the thicker ones. The winter winds left a larger than normal scattering of limbs and twigs in the yard, and I gathered those for chipping later. Saved the smallest twigs, thinking I may use those to construct a nest for the eggs. I know what to do about the even number problem and will fool around with that tonight or tomorrow. 3-28-06 Much happier after adding the fifth egg. 3-29-06 After today, my admiration for doves has gone up about seven notches. Bear with me; this does relate. I have always thought of doves as dumb birds. They seem to have a doo...ta...doo...ta...doo attitude toward life, just blundering their way through. I have seen them edge sideways toward cats, heads cocked, turning first one way then the other in curiosity. Not a good approach if they're considering living a long life. And they regularly fly into the sliding glass doors at the end of the house. THUMP...flutter... Even their approach to nest building is ridiculous compared to other birds. A few crossed sticks, and voila, they consider that home. But it is this very nest building that has changed my thoughts about doves. Today I made an attempt at creating a nest for my "eggs" using the sticks gathered the other day. There is more to this that it appears. Short of actually gluing or tying the sticks together, I can't figure out how to start the nest. I could manage to get a few sticks together, then add one more and the whole thing would fall apart. That's when I began thinking about the doves and their pitiful excuse for a nest. They manage to build one. And what's more, their nests don't fall apart even when they tramp around in them, even when they have three or four hatchlings in there shoving against each other. These birds know something I don't. Maybe they're not quite as dumb as I have thought. Bit then, there's still the cat bit... 3-31-06 I finished up the last egg and attached it to the others. It's a nice grouping. I gave up on the nest-from-twigs bit. I did manage to create the beginnings of a nest, but it looked hokey. There is an antique store here in Berea that had bags of hackled flax that would have made good nesting material, but when I went there, the bags were gone. I can't believe anyone bought that stuff. Whatever. The piece will sit on a shelf now until something suggests itself. |
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