I'm happy to report that the Billy Collins talk I went to the other night was a treat. He read a dozen or so poems, was 'interrogated' by a local radio loudmouth, and in general demonstrated a love and knowledge of the craft of poetry, of the art of words, and of communication and expression. I was impressed with his comfort in reading and in the stuff he read. So I listened and jotted notes and found myself returning to doodling his face and hands often. That happens when the speakers I'm listening to have expressive hands and the funning thing is that as I think about the talk, I can see an easy flow to my line that I don't always have.



There were good messages from Mr. Collins about working hard to make work that is honest, about how writers have a responsibility to readers and that readers, too, have work to do, and that humor is not simply a device but a way of living. (I think I have more thoughts about laughing your way through life, kids, and it's brewing, who knows when I'll approach this soapbox and tell some funny stories and ask some tricky questions and consider who gets the joke and who gets left out, but for today, I'll simply tease you and walk away). I do hafta go to work afterall.

But tonight I'll trim some of my lopsided bowls and ever so slowly growing cylinders (my teacher called one I threw yesterday a tumbler, and tumblers are taller than cylinders!) and see if I can articulate what I'm thinking of funny. This is funny.

see ya,
Rachael

As today is a day off and laundry day, I am very much aware that my recent obsession with learning how to work a potter's wheel is getting all my paint jeans covered in mud. It's a messy business and that's what I like. I've been scanning some stuff from my sketchbooks today, too, and finding that my drawings are morphing into designs for clay stuff.

I don't really have enough control over the material to make anything custom order to my own particular specifications, mind you. But I find it pretty freeing to imagine translating a three dimensional object (a tree) to two dimensions (drawing) and then back agin (to a vase).



Thanks, too, to Mark and others who reminded me to stop worrying and keep making. It's working out pretty well. Some sorting needed to be done (I'm almost to the point Keri was at, ready to trim my supplies to a discrete portable pack) and I managed to do some of it. I am headed tonight to see Billy Collins talk and I'll try to give a report about that.

take good care,
Rachael

Oh and the Oxalis drawing below is for Lisa who I hope will call me back...I miss her...

I've been thinking about revision and revising my thoughts so many times this week that my pace of posting, my posting pace, has paused. I used to simply sit at the computer and type, link, think, blink and post. It might be that the days are longer, it's greener, I'm sitting and thinking more away from the computer than on it ... and I wonder if the art thoughts I have, the looking and making talk I talk, and the images (ah yes, the images!) might be better brewed longer? Maybe if I first drafted and second drafted and thought it all out ahead of time I'd say more profound things in a more concise way.

Oh maybe.
Maybe not.

And you know, I worry, will they like me if I don't write about art? Am I navel gazing again and getting plumb boring? Who the hell cares what a part time painter in a nowhere town says about art and culture and how she manages or doesn't manage to find time to create and share?

Oh you can't stop me that easily.
I'll stop that worrying right now and sing it. Stop worrying and post again like I usually do. I'll tell you about the fear I see in all the kids in all the drawing classes. They draw, they love to draw, they need to draw, it's a part of who they are. Then they look around. Everybody draws better. They stop drawing. And unless they snap out of it or somebody grabs 'em by the collar and says DRAW, we might be looking at a 30 year pause in their drawing process. I've always drawn and written in the same impulse. To observe, to connect, to articulate, to imagine, to play, and sometimes, yes, to be seen and heard.

Let other art and fart bloggers write about all the shows they go to, all the art books they read, and all the work they're making. That's not me right now. I'm just working and making, walking and wondering. Have been busy reading, working on a couple of carefully picked creative projects, practicing pottery, revising my orphaned paintings, making new friends, writing and drawing. It's the days I don't draw that are the problem days. Days that I don't write here aren't necessarily a problem, just real.

And well, because I do care about you, dear reader, I give you one of the best somethings I've found this past week. A watermelon salad.

Ok, then, take care,
Rachael

Not much new in my world except that I continue to explore the muddy mess that is a spinning potter's wheel. I've been throwing some cylinders and plenty of piles of wet muck that doesn't make it off the wheel. I simply like the way it feels to have my hands in the clay.
I recently took a good book out of my local library by Susan and Jan Peterson
. It's big and helpful and inspiring and I'm scared to bring it into the studio for fear of splattering it with clay.


My computer is plenty of paces away from the wheels, so I found theseteaching linksincluding this helpful listserve at potters org. When I went to art school a million moons ago, a bunch of kids I knew headed off to Alfred in search of more clay. I can understand that a bit more now...
So then, I'm turning this machine off.

take care,
Rachael

Witold's bear is a well traveled bear. I've got a bit of a fancy for that travelling bear and really adore the images. Little objects made magic.

I'm about to go draw and tomorrow to travel a little but in the here and now I want to enthuse about the warmer days, about the little magic things (like the patterns I've noticed on houses on my street), and the ease of, the joy of days that flow naturally past the mundane and into the magic.

so then, more soon and until then, go little bears...
take care,
Rachael