Rain is so conducive to staying indoors. Except for a few errands yesterday - groceries, laundry, I've been in the studio working. I can hear my artist colleague and friend, Terry Jarrard Dimond, speaking of her artist retreat experience: "You won't believe how much time you have." True, Terry, but I don't believe how quickly the time is dissipating. Simply by being in Paducah, KY, by the artwork being created and viewed in a new context, a fresh dialogue has begun.
Sometimes the fresh dialogue arrives in old snippets I have dispensed to others, such as "less is more." For example, the dictionary-weave suspension hung in the studio overnight but is greeted this morning by the glint of scissor blades. Snip the cable ties and rearrange; discard ill-fitting elements, cut and carve the remains until the cocoon I envisioned now rotates before my eyes. "Less is more" applies to my art, too.
Artists often work on several pieces simultaneously, such as Terry's spouse, Tom Dimond. I rarely do, which I attribute to the need for resolution before moving on, and also because each piece informs the next - technically and symbolically. Once the dictionary-weave piece resolves, I move on. First I construct a drum-like armature of metal and polymer grid, cable-tied together, then I find that my first thought is: weave. Thanks to Paducah artist/Paducah Arts Alliance president, Freda Fairchild, I now possess a shredder that spits out 1/4-inch paper strips. Weave is what I usually do. What don't I usually do? What else can I do? Let's try this: insert the strips. Hmmm. It's textural, has different ergonomic demands than weaving, and - whoa! - there is a three-dimensional explosion on the armature's interior.
Ah yes, another labor intensive piece of art to create; all because I like the effect, am excited about the potential, and it resonates. It is suspended high enough to view the interior, that wild three-dimensional explosion, although you'll have to bend over a tiny bit. If I suspend it any higher, you'll miss the up-close-and-personal textural beauty on the exterior. A visitor to the studio today just had to touch it. That's a good sign: it's irresistible. Tomorrow will be interesting as it's Second Saturday from Noon to 5pm, where at least a half dozen Lower Town studios will be open to the public. Let's see if it's still irresistible then, too.
The strips are shredded digital prints of my blog, Postcards from Paducah, so it has an immediate hometown connection. Yes, this blog. Which reminds me; I need to print this edition and then plug in the shredder. Thank you, all of my supportive and wonderful artist friends (and all my supportive and wonderful family and friends). You're irresistible.
Sometimes the fresh dialogue arrives in old snippets I have dispensed to others, such as "less is more." For example, the dictionary-weave suspension hung in the studio overnight but is greeted this morning by the glint of scissor blades. Snip the cable ties and rearrange; discard ill-fitting elements, cut and carve the remains until the cocoon I envisioned now rotates before my eyes. "Less is more" applies to my art, too.
Artists often work on several pieces simultaneously, such as Terry's spouse, Tom Dimond. I rarely do, which I attribute to the need for resolution before moving on, and also because each piece informs the next - technically and symbolically. Once the dictionary-weave piece resolves, I move on. First I construct a drum-like armature of metal and polymer grid, cable-tied together, then I find that my first thought is: weave. Thanks to Paducah artist/Paducah Arts Alliance president, Freda Fairchild, I now possess a shredder that spits out 1/4-inch paper strips. Weave is what I usually do. What don't I usually do? What else can I do? Let's try this: insert the strips. Hmmm. It's textural, has different ergonomic demands than weaving, and - whoa! - there is a three-dimensional explosion on the armature's interior.
Ah yes, another labor intensive piece of art to create; all because I like the effect, am excited about the potential, and it resonates. It is suspended high enough to view the interior, that wild three-dimensional explosion, although you'll have to bend over a tiny bit. If I suspend it any higher, you'll miss the up-close-and-personal textural beauty on the exterior. A visitor to the studio today just had to touch it. That's a good sign: it's irresistible. Tomorrow will be interesting as it's Second Saturday from Noon to 5pm, where at least a half dozen Lower Town studios will be open to the public. Let's see if it's still irresistible then, too.
The strips are shredded digital prints of my blog, Postcards from Paducah, so it has an immediate hometown connection. Yes, this blog. Which reminds me; I need to print this edition and then plug in the shredder. Thank you, all of my supportive and wonderful artist friends (and all my supportive and wonderful family and friends). You're irresistible.
