The Lessons of Teaching

Despite a snowstorm, the class in pocket bookbinding went on as scheduled this past Saturday. Here is  a picture of Sid and myself,   working on one of the projects. I am the one on the left wearing  my well worn studio apron, and layered for the winter weather!
This class was  different from what I am  used to teaching. It was an informal group of fellow bookbinders, all with some knowledge of this art form. As I often do when writing, I went  to my dictionary to read  their definitions of teaching. " To import knowledge by lessons; to give instruction in; communicate the knowledge of."
 I think I like the last one the best.To communicate what I have figured out through study, practice, trial and error. There was often some of the latter experience. I wanted my presentation to be easy to follow, so everyone left with a finished project. One of my goals was to help them avoid making all the mistakes that took up my time and energy.
What I found was that everyone invents their own, original deviations. During my preparation, and there was a lot of it, my mistakes could  upset me, discourage me, and take a lot of time to resolve. As the instructor, I was  expected to have the answers, since this is something new to the others. So I put on my teacher apron; dug  deep into my past experiences; and helped work through the dilemmas that came up for others. I must say, I was impressed at my cool under fire. Maybe that was part of my lesson, to know I could do it. 
I guess it came down to figuring out how to translate whatever happened,the good and the not so great, into a new and better art form.  Not to forget another lesson. It was fun!

The Pages of Time

Well, here is a picture of the pocket calendar book I will be teaching tomorrow. As I run around trying to get everything done in a timely manner,it realize I am looking at the pages of this month, this year, this lifetime, as they unfold.  
In most parts of the world, it is the Gregorian calendar now in general use. It was first prescribed in 1592 by Pope Gregory XIII to correct the old Julian system to the astrological year. Of course we always have that little old leap year to make up for that  extra day. Not in this year of 2013,however. Just 28 days in February. 
I spend my time making things by hand. It is what I love to do. It can be frustrating as the glue sticks to me rather than the cloth; when I make a major error and have to start over. Yet it is the path I have chosen willingly. 
This bookbinding skill is tied to my calligraphy. All books and writing were done by hand originally. Here, there is an actual  formed pocket,into which you slide the removable calendar.It is  made of the same book cloth that binds both sides of this little book together. Since a year will be over in 365 days, it is possible to slide in another calendar when this one is finished. Seems to me a metaphor of how life seems to slide from one year into the next.Do we make the most of those precious pages of time?
 As I take the time to cut, measure, and  glue,I hope I remember to be grateful for each of these tiny moments of knowledge and even growth as an artist I am experiencing. These are the pages of my life.  

Art and Concentration

I have spent the last week concentrating on preparing for an upcoming workshop I am to teach.It has to do with book arts, hence the picture of me surrounded by the books I made and exhibited in my last show.That little black and orange clam shell box off to the left will pertain to what I am lecturing on.   
Wow. Interesting how two hours of total focus on solving problems and figuring out measurements can feel like so many hours of concentration. Do people actually realize how much exacting mathematics and organization go into creating something of a particular size or dimension?  Do I even realize before I start that perilous journey? Well, deadlines have their value.  
A friend of mine talks about " creative tension" that comes when doing something entirely new. You are so nervous and uncertain about how to get to reality from that image in your mind. Your stomach can hurt and your palms can sweat. I often get an invisible band around my forehead when I am concentrating so strongly.  It isn't a headache, quite, just  a comment to my body that I my thinking capacity is in overload. 
The dictionary defines concentration as " close mental application or exclusive attention".That is what occurs. I shut out the world; never look at a clock; and just take it one second at a time.Only after a tangible creation, or a solid hint emerges, can I breathe easier and even go for a walk to get some sun and oxygen. Then I return to my concentration until I can perhaps see a glimmer of completion.

Rainy Day in the Canyon

There is something about a rainy day in the mountains. This picture was just taken today, as I was driving down Oak Creek Canyon from the north country here in Arizona. It was a somewhat nerve wracking drive. Will a huge boulder loosen itself at an inopportune time? This does happen and one is so aware of one's own mortality. Today, the gentle, meandering Oak Creek is now a raging, silty,  powerhouse of water that will find its own path and  level, no matter what we mere mortals desire. I passed by the low water crossing which leads  to where a friend lives. Totally under water. I wonder. Will she show up at my house tomorrow as planned? Are we in for another serious  flood season like some years before ? Time will give us that  answer.  
When I look at this photo I took, I am reminded of my Porcelain Pueblo bowl series. I add hand carved  borders around the edge,  based on what I see outside my studio, and as I travel in my mountainous surroundings. I always  find inspiration for my art from the nature  around me. Northern Arizona  has a majesty to me , especially this little corner I inhabit.
Rain. Three days of rain. It  makes me aware of how I am just one person  in this  grand  scheme  of all that surrounds me.  Especially when it is a rainy day in the Canyon.

Bird Mask

Here is a picture of a  recent "Bird Mask" series I am creating. I added a fair amount of color, yarn, and decoration to this one.

 I enjoy creating  masks. They appeal to my sense of mystery, and history. I like to travel. Everywhere I  visit, including my own corner of southwestern America, I find indigenous people creating masks to represent some spirit form. Maybe I made this to represent the birds I love. Actually, I find the clay often tells me what form it wants to be when I am in my creative process.

 I start with somewhat of an idea. Somehow, as I roll out a slab or coil in the white  porcelain clay I like to use,the shape and form will evolve. Then when I start to play with the feathers, or yarns, it can change into in a different finished mask than I first envisioned. I  like the colors of the feathers and decorations  to  be harmonious with the glazes I have chosen. 

  I have been selling masks in this month of January. Why this is my popular form right now I cannot say.It seems to go that way in this art business.  One style of  work  will continue to sell, while others do not. Maybe it is mask energy flowing right now! If I am in the gallery with   people, they  often  ask me what is my inspiration or the meaning behind my masks. I say what I just wrote, which often is not specific enough for them, but is truthful.Besides, everyone gives their own meaning to what they choose, and that is fine with me.

Some Thoughts on Growing Old

This is a piece I created for a show on aging  a few years back.The title is the first line,

" Some Thoughts on Growing Old". I like to use photo images with my calligraphy, not necessarily in a neat, linear mode. I enjoy some twists and turns, some  ups and downs,  as in life. This was one in a series of this style of calligraphic imagery I continue to enjoy using. It is a fairly large piece. I like working large, plus how do you shrink someone's life to something petite?  I asked my subject to tell me his thoughts on what is felt to grow older. I used his own words, except when I chose  to edit for profanity and artistic placement.

Today the process of life seems to be much on my mind. Why is that? Perhaps because there are birthdays floating around this January of  people that matter to me. That seems to be  a time for celebration of the true start of a person's real new year. Also, it can be a time to look back at what the last year did or did not accomplish for them. Possibly my friend's sorrow at the death of an older friend makes me remember how fragile life really is. All we have to do is look at our own photos to see the passage of our  life's journey. First our youth. Then the young adult, followed by middle age leading to the finale. This piece has outlived its subject.

So I am guessing it is a reminder to me about really listening to what I know. That is to appreciate and value what I do have right now, and never wait to express this to those I care about. 

More on my website at www.claywrite.com

Birds of Ancient Egypt

I am not quite ready to leave all the wonderful sights I saw on my recent trip to Chicago. There is an Oriental Museum on the University of Chicago campus.Their special exhibit was the on the birds of ancient Egypt. I am a birder so the exhibit was of particular interest to me.
 This is a picture that was drawn back in the era of the Pharaohs, which is way before the time of Christ. To the left is the mighty lion,then the egret with its long filmy feathers called aigrettes which they have in breeding plumage.On the right is the hawk. In Egyptian mythology, there is the hawk headed god of the sun named Horus. I have been to Egypt and seen this figure in many representations, including  walls in the Pharaoh's tombs.
 What impressed me about this picture is its absolute clarity and beauty. 
 I imagine  it is drawn on papyrus, which was  their paper made from that plant which grew along the Nile.For color I am guessing  that they ground up rocks, or even precious jewels, for their pigments.This is a practice that is used to this day, as in colors such as cobalt blue and the red pigments. The artist must have studied his subjects. Was there a sketch book before the finished product? Were artists well regarded, or merely slaves from a conquered country that served their master? Something this old makes me reflect on so many things. What I do know is that birds have added interest and intrigue to our lives  and artists have always tried to capture their image.