How can it be mid-December?

I'm feeling a bit baffled at how it can already be mid-December!

I worked all summer in my gazebo studio to be ready for my September exhibit of driftwood sculptures.  My darling husband worked as long and hard on a consulting project, for which he presented the results in October in NYC.

Once we returned we both agreed to catch up on all the chores we put off all summer, beginning with the Paint-the-Deck project, begun last September, 2013!  For anyone who has undertaken this "joy of home-ownership" project, you know that we totally underestimated how LONG and exhausting this chore becomes.  We finally ran out of acceptable temperature days (thank you, God) and it became too cold to continue as the deck stain we're using can't set if the nights get below 40 degrees.

So, thankfully, Mother Nature saved us from further staining, but we at least got the horizontal work done--floor and railings.  Next summer more of the trim and we're guessing by the time THAT project is completed (YEARS, no doubt,) it will be time to start all over again.  

That brings us to Halloween and I managed to get my beloved decor out into the front porch and throughout the house.  It's a good thing I like pumpkins and scarecrows as they've served as decor for Thanksgiving and likely Christmas!  

A funny thing happened after Halloween.  November simply disappeared.  Yup.  Gone.

Long story short, at my opening reception for my sculptural work in September, my daughter-in-law and my realtor were wearing fused glass pendants I had made and give to them as gifts a few years ago.  They sparkled and snagged the interest and imagination of the gallery owner, Suzette.  

Thus, the Holiday Boutique was conceived and slated for the first week of December, featuring the artwork of five women artists from Windsor, Greeley and Cheyenne, WY.  I was asked to make and sell...guess what?  Fused glass jewelry!

Some of my readers will know that when we lived in Ohio I created and sold fused glass jewelry--pendants, earrings, bracelets, rings, even pins and cuff links!  I continued to make and ship jewelry since moving to Colorado but realized I was enjoying it less because I had lost touch with my customers.  So, in August, just before my September exhibit I ceased my relationship with the gift shop that had carried my work in Ohio for the last several years.  I thought I was done making fused glass jewelry.

Apparently, that was not to be.  When I agreed to the Holiday Boutique, I realized I only had a few weeks to get A LOT of inventory created.  Fused glass jewelry and small copper wire, lead crystal prisms and upcycled wood blocks were my primary pieces followed by smaller items including all-occasion cards featuring my favorite photos, slumped bottles and magnets.  Lots of small items that take considerable time.

I think that's what happened to November.  I remember spending hours upon hours at my glass desk (for more on how I make fused glass jewelry please read my other blog, Whimsy Call) while listening to the same five CDs over and over.  

I happen to like these CDs and find them conducive to losing myself in the creative process.  I suspect that it drives my sweet husband a bit bonkers that it's the same music over and over, but I happen to like singing loudly to Springsteen and knowing every note in the soundtrack to "Ratatouille."

Meanwhile, two of my flood stick sculptures were selected into juried exhibits in Littleton and Lone Tree, Colorado!  I got work release permits for good behavior to attend these opening receptions, in the same week no less!

Littleton

From nearly 300 entries, "River Dancer" was one of five sculptures among a show of 62 pieces of art from 42 artists for Littleton's "Own an Original" exhibit, Nov. 20-January 11.

There were 385 total entries received by the Lone Tree exhibit, with 30 submissions in sculpture.  "It takes a crooked stick to float a crooked mile" was one of eight invited to show.  The show consisted of 62 pieces of art by 55 artists.

I was thrilled to have work in both! 

Lone Tree

Holiday Boutique

Another work release for Thanksgiving and then, remarkably, it was time to set up our booth space for the Holiday Boutique at the Boardwalk Gallery!

I had a EUREKA moment when searching for a stand to display my hanging copper wire and prism pieces.   Of course I went to the Habitat thrift store to begin my search and to my utter amazement I came across the neatest brass retail display stand! Ken polished it up for me and it literally sparkled with prisms! 

For my table covers I used unbleached painting canvas that was both sturdy and durable.  

The Holiday Boutique was a delightful experience.  Not only was I reunited with customers who love fused glass jewelry, I got to know the other artists involved and lasting friendships were created. 

One of the artists, a delightful young woman named Maura Jacobsen, has a ceramics studio and gallery in Cheyenne, Wyoming, named the Wyoming Art Factory at 500 West 15th Street.  She asked if she could take everything of mine that was still unsold with her to sell in her gallery.  I was thrilled.

As a girl from Wyoming, it warmed my heart to know that my first area gallery presence is in Wyoming!

After so many hours in the studio and then the busy excitement at the Holiday Boutique, it has taken a few days to get traction under my wheels.  Again, all those nagging little chores that I put off through the invisible month of November were waiting for me and I was beginning to realize that, gosh, it was already mid-December and maybe we should replace the pumpkins with Christmas lights.  

I think I was jogged into reality when Ken asked about our Christmas card.  What card?  I suggested we send Valentines instead.

Just as I was emerging from the fog of creative endeavor I got a call from a charming gallery in Greeley, Madison and Main.  Wouldn't I like to be a guest artist and feature my fused glass jewelry?  Oh, yes, and can you deliver it by Jan. 3?

So, here's to my dear friends who are likely to get a card from us sometime in the new year.  We wish you joyous holidays and mirth.  As for me, I'll be in my garage studio singing loudly to Springsteen's "Live in Dublin" album and making art!

Let Go of the Rice...

As I write today, I have to admit that I'm a bit in awe of all that has happened since I "let go of the rice."

Let me explain.  When we came to Colorado for this next phase of our life I planned to get a job--a REAL job.  

In our working life together, I often felt like "girl interrupted," because every time we moved so Ken could accept the next position in his career, I left whatever I was doing and began again.  My resume resembles a target used by a first-time shooter!

As a jack-of-all-trades I've done free-lance writing and photography, university news writing, public relations, event planning, radio, talent work and even banking!  (Yeah, that last one surprised me, too.  It was short lived.)  I am a person who loves to see what's around the corner so often I was more than ready to move on, say goodbye to whatever I was doing and start over with whatever opportunities became available in our new home.

 There were jobs that were hard to leave--I enjoyed the co-workers, the challenge, the possibilities.  But, I always knew that another job awaited.

When Ken accepted his first university presidency I bid adieu to my salaried work in public relations to begin what would turn into a 19-year career in public relations as a volunteer.

And, that's why coming West brought visions of returning to the world of a Real Job.  Only, unlike earlier times when I couldn't wait to see what job opportunities awaited, this time I felt like I should get this job--but without any enthusiasm to even look.  Weeks, then months went by.  I wasn't going forward or even backward.  I was stuck.  Pure and simple.

That's when I stumbled onto a book by Mark Nepo, The Book of Awakening.  It's a lovely collection of short essays and observations.  It's said that when the student is ready the teacher will come.  Well, I'll never forget the essay for March 7, "Let Go of the Rice," because it literally rocked my world.

Mark describes an ancient story from China in which monkeys were trapped.  A coconut was hollowed out through an opening that was cut to the size of a monkey's open hand.  Rice was placed inside the coconut and left on the path of the monkeys.  A hungry monkey would eventually find the coconut, smell the rice and insert its hand inside the coconut.

Once the monkey grabbed the rice in its fist, the monkey could no longer pull its hand out through the opening.  The monkeys that were caught were those who would not let go of the rice.

Mark points out that as long as the monkey maintained its grip on the rice, it was a prisoner of its own making.  The monkeys that escaped were those who let go. 

When I read let go, I suddenly realized that I had imprisoned myself with something I no longer wanted but didn't know how to release.  I was holding on so tightly that I had stopped allowing my life to unfold with all the wonderful excitement and anticipation that it has now.

That day I let go and decided I wanted to pursue my art and writing, two aspects of my life that have always been part of me but never allowed to lead the way, I felt like I had just cleaned out the hall closet--only better!  I was free to say YES! to the Universe and in my next blog I'll give you the details on what an exciting journey that continues to be!!   

Take a deep breath...

Remarkably, it all came together and flowed without a hitch.  Deep breath.

Putting an exhibit together is probably similar to putting on a stage production.  One has to consider the first impression, the sounds, the smells, the layout, the flow, lighting (of course!) and presentation of the art itself.

Working with Suzette McIntyre, owner of the Boardwalk Gallery, was really delightful.  When I first pitched this idea of flood stick art to commemorate the 2013 Colorado flooding she embraced the concept and somehow saw how it would fit with bronze sculptures by Mark Hopkins of Loveland.  At the time I was unfamiliar with Mark's work but when I saw it the first time I understood why Suzette thought of him so quickly.

The work, sticks and bronze, blended so beautifully, echoing shapes and structure.  When the gallery was finally set and the lights arranged, it took my breath away.  I think that's a good reaction to have when one is opening the doors to a whole new body of work for me.

Moving pieces into the gallery was quite a process.  

Careful and precise packing to insure pieces arrive in one piece!

Ken and Suzette carefully bring "Tangled" into the gallery.

While stick art is more fragile, it sure weighs less than bronze!

First items arrive inside the gallery.

Again, like a stage production, the first steps are to block the space, figuring out what hangs where, what pedestals where, etc.  Although, this was unusually easy because I think Suzette actually saw how the gallery would look when she first conceived of this show, Mastery-in-Nature.

So, although Suzette had an idea of what went where, it still took a day to hang my wall sculptures and place the bronze on the pedestals and on glass shelves.

"Beach Party," "Tangled," and "Gnarly Pass" hang on the north wall, playing with Mark's bronze pieces on pedestals.

The second day Suzette and I tweaked, re-tweaked and tweaked it again.  We also adjusted the heights of wall sculptures and directed lights to create shadows and interest.

"Wild Game," "Spirit of the Bear,"
"Vortex Cycloid" make an interesting wall
grouping.  "Out of the Ashes" bobs
its head on the stand below.

The third day we made additional adjustments, set up a space near the entry for our reception area and got the table set up and entertaining items out and ready.  We also set our menu, got the groceries, wine and beer, ice and tablecloths and napkins.  

The next day was our opening at noon.  All was ready by the time the doors opened.  Floors were clean, the fountain in the southeast corner was adding the ambiance of water, and soft jazz played in the background.  

My 3-D sculptures and Mark's smaller bronze pieces
fit beautifully in a corner shelf.

These sculptures that had taken shape during months in the gazebo studio, that had taken every available wall space in our home after each was finished, that had revealed far more nuances than I originally perceived while creating them were now ready for exhibit, stepping out into the world.  I felt like a Mom waving goodbye to her kindergartner on the first day of school.  


The next two days were remarkable because people actually came to see the art!!  It was steady and encouraging and the comments were delightful!!  It was fun to see so many of the people I invited come.  (Since I really don't know many people in my new community, it was gratifying to see my family, neighbors and acquaintances make time to stop by.)

We had a lovely turn-out for our Saturday night reception.  The atmosphere was merry and enthusiastic.  Mark and his wife, Laurie, and me and my husband, Ken, were busy answering questions and providing additional information about our work.  The gallery looked stunning and the lighting was both inviting and highlighted the work.  

It was fun to see which pieces people responded to and which captured their imaginations.  The small 3-D sculptures were magnetic in their mysterious allure and the evening shadows added another dimension to the wall sculptures.

From east wall looking toward the front of the gallery and our reception area.

Even sweet "Embrace," got to slip the surly bonds of our family room to make it to the gallery floor.  The horizontal stick is not attached and is simply balanced on the tripod structure.  Although it was knocked a few times and fell to the floor, it survived and was still basking in all the attention it received.

The funny thing I didn't realize when I brought it over was that there was nothing to keep the legs from slipping on the gallery floor, unlike the carpet in our house that kept it stable.  I realized it was beginning to look like a spider on ice and brought some little rubber pads to give it better grip.  

Although we hadn't intended to extend the exhibit nor host a second reception, we did both.  The response has been so gratifying and encouraging.  I have strong possibilities to exhibit in two future locations and suggestions of additional people I need to contact.  

When I think that this whole endeavor began with sticks I could not resist after the flooding receded on the Cache la Poudre River, I am in awe.  

Mastery-in-Nature will continue to be in the Boardwalk Gallery until Oct. 6, 2014.  

Bit by bit putting it together...

I love the creative process.  

It's all that follows that makes me crazy.

When I was a beginning freelance writer I was told to always have the next story in my head, a couple in process on my desk and five "out in the field."

It was that "out in the field" that was the toughest thing for me.  

The writing is enjoyable.  Thinking about the next story inspiring.  It's the marketing of one's work that is the TRUE WORK.

Why is it easier to market or represent someone else's work?  I have a friend who is an artist and I extoll her work to all who will listen.  I've encouraged people to visit her website, talked about her process and proudly shown off the works I have have in our home.

But, when it comes to marketing and representing my own work, I get fluttery and flummoxed, tongue-tied and hesitant.  Before I make a "cold call," (and when you move to a new location it's ALL "cold calls") I remind myself that what I do is unique and wonderful.  My pep talk includes why I want others to see or read my work, why I believe in what I do and why it's important that I talk about it with all the passion I feel for it.  (That part about passion is REALLY IMPORTANT.)

I suppose it's a bit like public speaking, or glossophobia, which, I've read, is one of the biggies when it comes to fear inducing phobias--topping death, spiders and even heights. 

Fortunately for me, though, marketing myself (and even public speaking) becomes somewhat easier the more often I do it.  

As I have visited with gallery owners and exhibit directors about my flood stick art I have encountered unexpected kindnesses and interested and receptive responses to it.  

So that is my field work as I finish my current body of work with the final touches before my exhibit in a couple of weeks.  Suzette, the gallery owner, has sent out her press releases.  This week I'll begin personally dropping off my post cards with invitations to the exhibit (remember, I don't know that many people yet.)  Next week I'll begin to hang pieces in the gallery, which involves its own finishing touches.

www.boardwalkgallery.net/mastery-in-nature.html

www.tobybakerart.com

River Dragon

So, I've got sculpture ideas still swimming in my imagination, a body of work ready to hang and possible new places to exhibit and sell my work emerging.




It reminds me so much of that Barbara Streisand song written by Stephen Sondheim.




Here's one of my favorite parts:



Bit by bit, putting it together.
Piece by piece, only way to make a work of art.
Every moment makes a contribution.
Every little detail plays a part.
Having just a vision's no solution.
Everything depends on execution.
Putting it together, that's what counts! 
 

The Creative Process - Wonder of Wonders...

Have you ever been so swallowed up in a project that time is forgotten?

Maybe it's connecting with an incredible novel or sitting at the sewing machine or taking apart an engine.  Regardless, you look up at some point and hours have disappeared!  Gone!  Poof!

The first time I was acutely aware of being lost in space I was working in the darkroom as a freshman in my first photography class.  (Yes, pre-digital, film.)

I would go in figuring I'd spend a couple of hours and by the time I emerged it was midnight and I'd forgotten to eat a meal or two!  What happened?  How could I have not been paying attention to the time?  I always had other homework to do, other obligations waiting and still was so absorbed in the process of creating photographic images that time became irrelevant.  I walked into the darkroom and embraced a new time and space.  

That is what the process of creating is to me--I simply lose myself when I begin to create--whether it's writing, chipping stone, mixing pigments or playing with clay.  Now I am involved in creating art with found sticks from the banks of the Cache la Poudre River's fall and spring flooding--and loving every lost minute of it!

First, I work best when I have a space that I can designate as a "studio."  

(To me, the difference between studio and say, kitchen table, is that I can set it up, use it and walk away without having to put everything away everyday.)


My "stick studio" is in our screened-in gazebo, which has proven to be a very conducive place for creating art.  I can work,  enjoy the soft summer breezes blowing through as I listen to both my IPOD music and the birds trilling at the pond.  Most importantly, I (and my work) are protected from the brutal afternoon sun.  I commandeered our outdoor dining table as work space along with another bistro table to enable me to have plenty of room for stick sculptures in their many stages of development.  

How to start?  Isn't that always the trickiest first question?  How many times have I looked at a blank page or empty canvas and thought, where do I begin?  Even when I've designed it (or thought I had) in my mind there is still that pause when I need to step back and trust the process.    

And, how exactly does one do that?  I'm not sure.  To me, it reminds me of that invisible demarcation between awake and asleep. How does one fall asleep?  Ask anyone who has struggled falling asleep and you'll hear, "If I knew then I'd have done it hours ago!"  But, those nights when your head fits perfectly on the pillow and sleep comes gently and almost immediately, it seems so easy, so effortless.

That's my best definition of trusting the process.  Just step into it--apply paint to the canvas, sand the stone, hold the clay in your hand, write the first words.  The most important word here:  BEGIN. 

I'm a big fan of revision, editing, sometimes even taking it all apart to begin again, to "fail forward."  But, first one needs to BEGIN.   

In creating flood stick sculptures, my first challenge is to create the armature, the structure that will hold the whole she-bang together.  So...I browse my palette of sticks to select just what I'm looking for...

With these sculptures I'm including found relics or objects so that has often given me a hint as to the shape.

But, it's my choice--do I want smooth or textured?  How thick? How heavy?  How tall? How many? Is it strong enough to support the weight of other sticks?  Is it so light or delicate that I must set it aside to use later?  Is it so intriguing in shape or texture that it should be a focal point? 




         

For this sculpture, "It takes a crooked stick to float a crooked mile," I was attracted to the fact that I had two right-angle sticks to play with.  That was my start.

As I laid it out on my table, the armature began to take place.  I used a jute twine to attach the main connections and then used wood glue for the top layers.  

I devised my own plastic-bag sandbags to provide the weight needed to insure my glued attachments are strong.

Plastic bags of sand add the weight needed to insure my glued attachments dried tightly.

After several additional sticks were added I was ready to attach the found relic  -- a slightly rusty circular metal piece, very thin and missing one spoke.  Since this piece was composed with delightfully crooked sticks, this metal piece almost seemed the perfect "compass" for a composition of crooked angles and directions.  

I attached my thin metal "compass" with a loop of thin metal tin.

Here is the finished piece, "It takes a crooked stick to float a crooked mile."

Do you see my original right-angle sticks?

Be sure to check out my Whimsy Calls blog to see how great art influences affect even 3-D flood stick sculptures! And, to see more wall and 3-D sculptures please go to:  www.tobybakerart.com

      

So, what does a self-described STICK ARTIST actually DO with all these flood sticks?

Dressed for mosquitoes and hazards.

So, what does a self-described stick artist actually do with all these flood sticks?

Well...harvest them, of course!

Sticks just have a way of hopping into my arms.  I swear they do.  Often, when Molly and I stop at the Cache La Poudre River to just look, invariably a few incredibly great, unusual, funky, twisty, remarkable sticks manage to make the home trek with us.  

Carrying a few at a time, it's surprising how one can amass quite an inventory over the winter and now through the spring and summer.  But, that's all good because it takes a "village" to create a sculpture.  And, I like to have choices.  Lots of choices.

Let me remind you of how the river water changes so quickly.


This is one of my favorite gathering places at the end of June, which I used in my last blog.

Channels filled with fast-flowing water around willow "island."

 
This is the same location as I saw it last week when I was stick "harvesting."

Channel dry with marooned rubber raft lying on the rocks.  

It's amazing to me how much change can occur in just a few days.  When I visited it yesterday the water was higher than this because of our recent heavy rains but the channel was still dry.

When one looks at a "stick jam," as I refer to them, it's easy to get overwhelmed because of the sheer number.  But, I'm very selective.  I don't want them all.  I want the best.  And, for me the best might fit what creative idea I've got in my head, or what piece I'm currently working on and realize THIS particular stick is EXACTLY what I need NOW, or it is a stick with POTENTIAL.  Those, I think, are some of the sticks I can't wait to play with.

It's easy to get overwhelmed when looking at a "stick jam" such as this.  Where to start?

But, look closer and you'll see some lines that catch your eye, follow them and see if they take you where you want to see more.  Look and admire the layering, a puzzle of pieces that somehow fit into a greater whole.

All winter I stacked my sticks in an area we originally designed as a dog showering space in our garage.  In addition to spraying mud off of Molly, I discovered it's also a fabulous area to scrub sticks.  I'm very careful to remove mud, debris and anything yucky.  These sculptures are designed to go into people's homes (I have one hanging in mine) and I don't want anything "extra" going in with them.

I also realized that as I scrubed each stick I reacquainted myself with its contours, weight, particularities, notable characteristics and so on.  Since some of these sticks had been waiting since September it was not only a playful job on a hot afternoon but an important renewal for me as I created a mental inventory of what I had. 





After a whole lot of washing and scrubbing I soon had a palette of flood sticks, clean, drying and sorted somewhat by size and type.

My beautiful, precious flood stick inventory "somewhat" according to size.

Sorted according to smoothness.

Sorted for creative possibilities.

These are sorted according to unusual funkiness!

 Now that you see what I have to play with, in my next post I'll show you the first steps in creating a wall sculpture I call, "It Takes a Crooked Stick to Float a Crooked Mile."


(NOTE:  If you want to see the poster for the exhibit I'm preparing for please go to:

http://www.boardwalkgallery.net/mastery-in-nature.html

Thanks!)


   

A Stick Artist's View of the Spring Flooding of the Cache La Poudre River - Part 2

This spring with a massive snow melt in the Rocky Mountains and unusually wet weather, water began to rise in the Cache La Poudre River--and rise and rise.  

I noted in my diary that the water was higher and faster, even covering a sandbar near the the County Road 13 bridge near our house on May 22.      

It is not unusual to have spring flooding but this year's water was so abundant that we here along the banks of the Poudre experienced flooding eerily similar to or above (in many areas) what we had during last September's flooding, which was often referred to as a 100-year flood of epic proportions.

Of course I was out there documenting the event, my camera in one hand and Molly's leash in the other.  Here are some images I hope will convey the incredible, untamed power of water, a reminder that Mother Nature makes her own rules.

As you read in my post, Part 1, I am a "stick artist" and had to laugh at the sheer wonder of it all.  All winter I had been bringing home sticks of all shapes and sizes, but often would "cache" sticks along the riverbank intending to retrieve them later.  

Well, as you might suspect, the Cache la Poudre had other ideas about that.  Those sticks I had set aside have likely traveled along the South Platte River through Nebraska, joining the North Platte River.  By now they've probably already reached the Missouri River which joins the Mississippi River (which is now flooding) and will eventually flow into the Gulf of Mexico!!!

Of course, often what Mother Nature takes away with one hand, she gives with the other.  To my sheer delight, when the waters finally subsided enough for me to explore safely along the still muddy edges, what did I discover?  A "cache" of sticks bigger and more intense than anything I had encountered after the 2013 fall flooding! Woo-hoo!!!

  
   You can see why I stood in sheer astonishment when I saw what awaits me!!

But, let me share some images to convey what happened between May 22 and June 27.  

Near County Road 13 along the Poudre River Trail was a small tree that I referred to as my "measuring tree."  It still had dried grass and bits of debris in its branches from the fall flooding and it gave me an easy visual as to how high/fast the water was flowing.

May 22, 2014

Completely underwater by June 7, 2014

 

June 18, 2014, sadly what's left of it with sandbar visible again on the opposite shore.

Along the Poudre River Trail, east of Country Road 13, the trail was nearly completely submerged by the river by May 29, 2014.

Perfect reflections looking west.

The spillway nearly indistinguishable at height of flooding.

 

The Cache la Poudre River flowing over its banks.

By June 20, the walk along the Poudre River Trail was much different.

The Cache La Poudre River back within its banks.

The spillway once again recognizable as such.

The Poudre River Trail, looking east, dry, scraped free of mud.

In my neighborhood we have been quite fortunate to only be inconvenienced by the flood waters of fall and spring.  Not so fortunate for those along other parts of the Cache La Poudre River.  For those of us near County Road 13, when the bridge closes, well...it does make for much longer round-about drives to Windsor and other places north of the river, but it also brings neighbors together, at least at first, when water covering County Road 13 is an unexpected sight.

Molly and playmate splashing along County Road 13.

 

A warm, sunny day to play in the water!

I do feel great empathy for the sand and gravel company that again (as it did in the fall) served as a reservoir for the Cache La Poudre River as it spilled out of its banks and into the deep spaces of the excavation site.  After weeks of pumping, they appear to be back in business this week.

The sand and gravel company at the corner of County Road 13 and Highway 392, filled to capacity with river water.

Thank you, sand and gravel company, for involuntarily serving as an emergency reservoir yet again.

 

After pumping, dry-ish as of June 30, 2014

As of yesterday, the Cache la Poudre still running fast with some minor flooding due to severe rainstorms in the mountains and along the foothills.

And, so the story of this beautiful river, the Cache La Poudre, continues.  The water has receded tremendously but is still wild and dangerous.  Even rafting companies are taking extra care and precautions as several have lost their lives by falling into the strong currents.

For additional flood photos see my other blog site, Whimsy Calls.