Resolution

Resolution

Another year, another long list of things I'd like to achieve or change.  My New Year's resolutions always seem to weigh so more than a piece of paper should. 

I've been thinking a lot about about change, and particularly about the relationship between the process and the outcome.  As points of reference I've been re-reading Anne Lamott's fantastic book, "Bird by Bird:  Some Instructions on Writing and Life"--which I heartily recommend to anyone who is either writing or living--and I've been looking at a lot of pictures of what often amounts to an egg with eyes, or Daruma. 

Although contemporary depictions of this Japanese spiritual icon are often Hello Kitty-esque, the Daruma stories are anything but cute.  The basic plot:  Daruma sat down to meditate his way to enlightenment.  Some colorful variations:  to keep himself from nodding off Daruma tore off his own eyelids and threw them down on the ground where they sprout into the first tea plants; Daruma meditated for so long that his arms and legs atrophied, which is why he often looks like an egg swaddled in a robe; Daruma meditated for so long that his arms and legs atrophy fell off completely--but in some stories an itinerant painting restorer who paints him new limbs.  

So Daruma has become an inspiration and a yardstick for anyone who sets out to achieve a goal.  In Japan people who are starting something new like a course of study will often acquire a Daruma figure, which comes with blank, staring eyes.  You paint in the pupil of one eye when you start your efforts and paint in the other when they are complete.  

Like all of my sculptural molds, this rendition of Daruma plays on the implied idea of limitless reproduction, evoking boundless reserves of resolve.  Nestled one inside another like Russian dolls, the alternating positive and negative figures are also meant to remind me that there can be many unseen layers of resolution involved in any achievement, and that some of these, although essential to the whole, can feel at the time like a move in the wrong direction.   

Iris Mold

Just a slight shift of light can make an image on a carved mold appear shallow, deep, or even three-dimensional.  Here, both images are of the same iris mold carved in scrap plywood, but they were taken in different lighting conditions.  

Molds constantly remind me that perception is largely a matter of perspective! 

Class Album: Wood Jewelry at Pratt

 

Jewelry That Grows on Trees 

Pratt Fine Arts Center, October 27-28

My fall wood jewelry class at Pratt has become an annual tradition that I look forward to even more than sweater weather and almost as much as the return of brussels sprouts.  I always count on the weekend's students for an injection of ideas and energy, and this batch certainly didn't disappoint!

Class Album: Multnomah Arts Center II

Jewelry That Grows on Trees
Multnomah Arts Center, October 6-7 2012

I had another great weekend teaching at Portland's Multnomah Arts Center.  As usual, it was as much an educational experience for me as for my students; I gave them my same old wood jewelry spiel and they cranked out another gallery full of work like nothing I've seen before.  Also, I learned that there is such a thing as Competitive Frisbee Dancing.  Who knew?  

Class Album: Multnomah Arts Center

Jewelry That Grows on Trees
Multnomah Arts Center, Portland, OR
March 17-18, 2012

The only thing I enjoy more that just teaching my wood jewelry workshop is taking my show on the road. It's always so energizing to face the challenges of a new space and unfamiliar tools and to work with a totally new group of people. I therefore jumped at the opportunity to take train down to Portland for a weekend of wood jewelry at the Multnomah Arts Center.

Housed in a converted elementary school, MAC is a community resource that pulses with activity. During my weekend there, I noticed events as diverse as filmmaking, trick frisbee, youth cello, pre-school ballet, and a stage production of "Little House on the Prairie."

The jewelry studio is well equipped and scrupulously organized--a huge help for a visiting teacher and students grappling with a new material. Check out these images to see what they were able to accomplish in just two short days.

If you're reading this in or around Portland, please keep your eyes open for the MAC schedule; I hope to be teaching again later this year.

Review: Centrum Explorations Class

Centrum Explorations
March 4-9, 2012

For 39 years Centrum's Explorations program has been offering Washington state middle schoolers the opportunity to spend a week in a frenzy of creative activity. Each day students take four of eight possible classes; the 2012 offerings were marimba, hip-hop dancing, taiko drumming, songwriting, creative writing, drawing, theatre, and wood jewelry. Students live, eat, and study on the campus of Fort Worden, an historic army base on the Olympic Peninsula (seen "Officer And a Gentleman"?), burning off whatever energy they have left after class by combing the beach or clambering around the hillside fortifications.

I had planned for the setting to play a big role in my class, as a source of both inspiration and raw materials, but we didn't get off to an auspicious start. On the first morning I hustled my 2-hour "core" group out the door for a hike that I fulled expected to turn them into raving naturalists and avid found-object jewelers. We'd been outside about ten minutes when the temperature fell and the skies opened. I called a retreat and we returned to the classroom totally soaked, clutching a few waterlogged twigs in our frozen fingers.

Inspired by Fort Worden in a different way, we soldiered on. Each student picked a piece of wood that he or she found especially appealing and drew its portrait, paying particular attention to attractive lines, knots, bits of lichen, etc.














On day two, it snowed. But luckily our wet twigs from the day before had dried out somewhat, so we got to work learning the about jewelers' saws, filing and sanding, drilling, gluing, and joining pieces with wire elements or string.














The students also learned to work with commercially available wood such as sheets and dowels, using it alone or in conjunction with their found-wood elements. It was very exciting for me to watch the students take the same information and run in different directions; for example, some patient types went in for making lengths of chain out of tiny jump rings, while others tackled ambitious sculptural designs.














And as usual, the woodburning tool proved popular--so popular, alas, that it pooped out before the end of the class.














Towards the end of the week, the activity ratcheted up as we all rushed to finish work for a final showcase attended by all the other students, as well as many parents had teachers who came up especially for the evening. We arranged the table to give visitors some insight into the whole process, with everything from raw wood and first-day drawings to works-in-progress and finished pieces on custom made stands.













Budget willing, Centrum takes place in the spring of each year. Although wood jewelry won't necessarily always been part of the roster, the lineup of classes is guaranteed to be enticing. If you know of any middle schoolers who would jump at the chance to attend art camp, check out the Explorations information on Centrum's website.

Midden

Midden

Ah, the satisfaction of finishing a piece! Especially when it's been in progress as long as this one has. I started this over a year ago, sporadically whipping out a rib or tibia now and then whenever I had a free afternoon.

It's about 28" long, carved from the spalted boxwood I salvaged out of a neighbor's yard (same as I used for last year's Messenger). The assorted anatomical-ish bones are joined by tiny sterling links and anchored at each end by skull and pelvis. It could be a necklace or a sculptural piece, but as usual I find it most satisfying as a thing to play with.

Review: MORE Jewelry that Grows on Trees

More Jewelry That Grows on Trees
February 4-5, 2012, Pratt Fine Arts Center

After all these years, I've accumulated more ideas about wood than one syllabus can accommodate. In this follow-up to my regular Jewelry That Grows on Trees workshop, I had the chance to introduce students to my own recent experiments with new surface finishes, constructed stone settings, and inlaid, laminated, and bent veneers. Check out this impressive range of samples and finished pieces...

Penland Educators' Retreat

North Carolina's Penland School of Crafts has exerted a huge influence on me ever since I first attended a workshop in the summer of 1997. When I look back on the pieces I've made at Penland--however crude, however experimental--I can see dozens of little kernels that eventually grew into my "real" work. What would I be making now if it weren't for Penland?

Over the years, I've been a work-study student (washing dishes), a scholarship recipient, a studio assistant, and, finally, an instructor: Penland was where I taught my very first wood jewelry class, back in 2007.

And now I've had the thrill of experiencing Penland from yet another perspective, as a participant in the 2011 Craft Educators' Retreat. When I opened the email inviting me to apply it was almost like getting one of those "YOUR NAME HAVE WON 60000GBP" messages. A week in the woods with 100 other teachers, talking and learning and teaching in any of a dozen well-equipped studios? Too good to be true!

It was a whole lot of silver lining stuffed into one small dark cloud: my inability to attend three demos simultaneously. Other than that and self-imposed sleep deprivation it was an overwhelmingly positive experience. I deeply believe that one of the most important qualities a teacher can possess is indiscriminate generosity, and this week hammered that idea home. Not only was I surrounded by people who are at the top of their game, they were unanimously willing to spill their secrets, whether in scheduled demos or informal tutorials sparked by a lunchtime chat.













Mark Gardner taught woodturning and Stoney Lamar shared his signature surface texturing and finishing technique (that's metalsmith Suzanne Pugh looking on).













Sculptor Sabiha Mujtaba (my awesome roommate) showed us how to transfer a design from model to block in preparation for power carving. Dean Pulver wowed silversmith Julia Woodman with an impromptu demo of the "Ming Ding".













Sculptor Critz Campbell shared a low-tech trick for steam-bending wood, and I ventured out of the wood studio to see papercut artist Béatrice Coron's overview of materials and tools.

















Perhaps even more inspiring than the expert instruction was seeing the experts take a risk on trying something new. The hotshop schedule quickly filled up as teachers like master blacksmith Jim Cooper jumped at the chance to blow some glass.


















I hadn't blown since last year, but to my surprise some of the skills I accumulated at Pilchuck came back to me, while the overriding anxiety didn't. Patiently coached by gaffer extraordinaire Sami Lipscomb, I made a hip flask that's a big step up from my last attempt.


















I took advantage of tools I don't usually have access to and made a little progress on my ongoing doll project. Mark Gardner helped me to turn some tiny wood versions, and Ben Elliott showed me how to make similar shapes in flame-worked borosilicate glass.

















And I finally got to cast some glass rings that I'll eventually clean up and carve into signets.



















I brought along a handful of empty vitrines, which turned into mementos of this very memorable experience: a sample of Dolph Smith's "forged paper" technique reminds me to be a generous teacher, a collage of leaves and mica simulating the Penland view reminds me to me resourceful, woven shavings from Stoney Lamar's turning demo reminds me to enjoy the process as much as the product, and a set of wings removed from a squashed bee reminds me that aiming for beauty often involves overcoming squeamishness. Quite a lot of lessons from just a week in the woods!

Thank you so much to the funders, my fellow retreaters, and everyone at Penland who worked so hard to put this amazing experience together.