...or tries to...

Thursday, December 30, 2010


Why I love beads. Simple.
Not just because they mimic cells, and ice, and stars, and seeds.
Because they make you really think about their color, and see the differences in everything we call red, and blue, and green, and white. Because they make you center in on the search for that one perfect hue, and let you see it everywhere.

Sunday, December 19, 2010

Missing you...

The Old Blue Barn is up on a shelf right now, empty. Wow, that was needlessly depressing in tone, it's not like it burned up in a fire or was accidentally crushed in a soccer-ball incident-(that did happen once, to another house, long ago). It's right over my head while I'm typing away here. But I had to pack up its insides and put it away when I sold my home, there just wasn't room where I'm living now. And it's a time-inhaler. It calls to you like a tiny siren, play with me play with me, you're ten again and you'll be ten forever, and you're afraid you'll look up, like some enchanted princess in a creepy old fairy tale, to find that you're 95 and hadn't noticed time passing.

But I love it. I just do. All you miniaturists know what I'm talking about. Unless you sell what you fashion from from clay and toothpicks and paper, it's one of the few things on earth that has nothing to do with deadlines, or juror's panels, or even logic. It's self-contained, you do it because it's so much fun, to hunch over and make something minisculely real from something else, to stick your face into a tiny room, hold your breath, and float there, transformed, like a ghost from another dimension.

Yeah, I'll probably take it down from the top of the bookshelf. My full scale things, the contents of my actual home - furniture, pottery, world globes, silverware, books, are all stuffed up into two labyrinth-like storage units. They're waiting for the complexities of adult life, with their contracts and addendums and closing costs, to set them free. But the Old Blue Barn's contents are in a plastic shoe box in my mother's garage. Right over there. This is something I can easily put back together again.

Friday, December 17, 2010

Friday Favorite: The Third Man

I thought I would try to expand my blog's little world to include the things out there that I like most. Some things I absolutely love, some - certain books, paintings, videos, songs, movies, have become so integrated into the contents of my life that I almost forget that they aren't mine. But don't we all take possession of the things we love, make them a part of who we are? Once you do something, or build something, or draw something, and send it out, it belongs to anyone who sees it and takes it in. Isn't there a REM song that declares, "I am the king of all I see"?

My favorite movie is The Third Man, Carol Reed's 1949 masterpiece. Of course there's the ferris wheel and stumbling Joseph Cotton and Orson Welles in the dark doorway. It has rubbled, dark, wet post-war Vienna, the sewer chase, the tiny shouting boy and the tinier dog, the balloon man, winding staircases, Dr Winkel, the wonderful if erroneous speech by Welles about Switzerland. And a zither soundtrack. It has the bumping of bland innocence against secrets and corruption and the tilted distortions of survival. But my favorite scene, the one I think of first, is Harry Lime's attempt to escape through the locked grate that leads up out from the sewer to freedom-we've been splashed and shoved through the sopping subterranean tunnels with echoed shouting and rushing sewer water and flashlight strobed dancing shadows. Harry reaches up through the grate-we see his fingers rise from the vantage of the empty street, dead silent up there except for the high whistle of the winter wind. They uncurl, reach up, then sink slowly back below.

Friday, December 3, 2010

Watson MacRae Gallery

I'm beyond excited to be a part of a new exhibit opening December 3rd at Watson MacRae Gallery on the beautiful island of Sanibel, Florida. It's titled "Folk, Fantasy & Outsider Art", and I'll be showing eleven pieces there. The shadowboxes were made for the gallery, but the other pieces will be my larger wall and free standing objects, and the first time two pieces, "Climb, Cling, and Drift Away", and "Tangled Biotope" will be on view, outside of my own tiny personal universe. The wonderful Maureen Watson has been warmly and kindly guiding me into the world of the group show, and I'm so proud to be a part of the of the seven artists she has gathered together.

Here's an article from CaptivaSanibel.com:


And Watson MacRae's website: