the space between

You've heard it before. Music is defined by the space between the notes. Right now, that's where I am, Between.

Jack, One Year by Barbara Burke, 2009

Forward is my comfort level. However, motion is not presently an option. Grief has never been so prominent in my life as it is now. It is stunning. And numbing. Inspiration is void. 

There's too much going on to move. Family constellations are being illuminated. Legacies are solidified. Mortality is questioned.

Seemingly lacking in presence, I am more present then ever. Honouring the healing that must happen, I accept this is where I need to be. So, I sit.

Between.

Between being nurtured and nurturing, learning and teaching, anger and love. Between viels of understanding. Between the subject and the artist.



meant to bee

The plan was to create a sculpture garden on our 2+ acre mountain retreat. It was exalting to think such a far reaching fantasy would be realized. Visions didn't even make it to paper though. Unexpectedly blessed with child, we forfeited the mountain home and property for the opportunity to raise our son in a more social environment.

It was hard leaving the streams, woods and creatures behind. What an enticing canvas this was to be.  However, there was one nagging thought all along. Even if I did create here, who would enjoy this space?

Fast forward to 2011. The Sculpture Garden is afoot. Somehow, it found it's way into my son's schoolyard. How pleasing it was to look around and recognize my hand in their flower and vegetable garden, bottlecap art, bee and beehive sculpture. There are plans for more on the way too.  And all are being well utilized by an appreciative group of preschoolers.

It was meant to bee.

art's not all shiny and happy

When I decided to start this blog, my glossy intention was to create a bridge between a professional career as an interior designer and my interest as an art educator. Admittedly, there were shiny happy thoughts of me flitting over the void and becoming a perky art teacher.

OK, I'm past perky.

Shiny and happy aren't exactly where life's at for me now either. My mother has a terminal illness. Her quality of life has been compromised for years. Seemingly, it's dwindling even more rapidly now. All of this saddens me. And, as these life situations happen, family dynamics are also exasperated. This part is painful.

The other day I caught myself in a spiral of self-doubt. Busying myself with household chores, I was going nowhere but down. Somehow I caught myself and took a peak at my sketch book. There lie the beginnings of a neglected birthday card. I decided to pick up were I left off and complete it. As soon as I made that decision, I felt my energy shift. Confidence was re-instated. This is art in action.

To my dear friend Amy, thank you for the inspiration. Sorry you never got the original card. You are always in my heart and always fabulous. To the new quadragenarian, Happy Birthday! and thanks for your good energy. To anyone having a hard time dealing with me right now, well...

Have your psychologist call my psychologist. I'll be in the studio. Doing the best I can.

1,088 screws

Numbing? Soothing? (By the way, this is a family channel ;)

We all bear pain in our lives. I'd like to believe that we are given what we can handle. But, How do we handle it? So often we resort to compulsions and addictions that merely reinforce the pain.  What is it that draws us to make the same decision of regret. Is the repetition and familiarity of the outcome comforting?

It is awfully brave to face our pain and walk through it. It is probably the more healthy choice too. We don't always have the luxury of that choice. On occasion, the pain really is too much. At these times, anaesthasia is a survival mechanism that works.

Consider productive forms of anaesthesia. Consider art. To refine your art, often repetition is required. Miniscule details need addressed, over and over. Be it music, writing, sculpting, running, cooking.... The body and mind need to absorb the exercise into your muscular and nervous system in order to make it a part of your being. At other times, a project just needs excessive, minute attention. Either way, here's a chance to sooth yourself without robbing your soul.

Let your body and mind find comfort in the exercise. Focus on the repeat. Let yourself be lost in the task. Let yourself be part of the art of healing. Something good may come of it.

Community Art

Community is a term that meant little to me until I became a mother. Not much unique about that. Awareness at becoming a community member is rich and rewarding. Children are often the impetus. The excitement arises though when art is added to the mix.

For centuries, art was part of an everyday persons living. Every handcrafted pot, story or song was inscribed with art and soul. Now we commit art to museums and galleries, recognizing and celebrating a select few. Our personal experiences and abilities appear trivialized in comparison. Items we use daily, including songs and entertainment are manufactured. At this point it's even trite to ask, "Have we lost soul with this transgression?"

What happens when we bring community art back to our lives? The City of Philadelphia Mural Arts Program says it well, "When we create art with each other and for each other, the force of life can triumph." 

Eager assistants, Owen and Liam

A few weeks ago I delegated part of a community art project. The  response I got was warm and genuine, "I'm looking forward to doing this!" Formerly a manager of a facilities team, I don't recall receiving that kind of enthusiasm as design tasks were administered. Maybe it's not fair to compare the two scenarios. There are too many variables distinguishing them. Rather than rack my brain in analysis though, I will accept and appreciate that I am part of a more triumphant life force now.

Credits



Carpentry by Todd

Template Designs by LeeAnn





Joy by Jack



the debut

What to do when you find your bathtub full of bottlecaps?

Start a blog, of course!

It is with joy I find myself in this situation, at the heart of a community art project. LeeAnn Stover and I are directing a project for the Blue Bell Montessori Children's House. With the help of many hands, big and small, gallons of plastic bottlecaps are soon to be converted into a mosaic for the children's garden.

Inspiration for this project can be credited to Michelle Stitzlein, a sculptor from Ohio. http://www.artgrange.com/michellesculpture.html. Fun.