Moving Forward

 

  

One step at a time, I’m moving forward into this New Year and this new life. I’m feeling better. I’m eating and enjoying food for the first time in months.  My energy is returning. And the clouds are lifting from my body, mind and soul. Here’s the weird thing: I didn’t even realize how many clouds were hanging in, over and around me. I just thought it was the stress of change and everyday life. 

I was wrong. I was physically sick. I didn’t know it. When I finally got medical coverage, and started to think something might be wrong, I didn’t know what to do or where to go. The medical coverage was a difficult and confusing labyrinth requiring calls to a 1-800 number for pre-approval and the info given was conflicting and confusing. 

Bottom line: I had to wait too long to see a doctor. During the wait, my condition got worse. I’m very grateful to the urgent care doctors, surgeon and nurses. And I’ve very grateful to be well now. 

Picking up the pieces. 

The work in my studio had to sit for many months. There are pieces that were thrown and slab built during the summer and fall. Again, thinking I lacked motivation when I was really ill, they sat on the shelves. 

Now that I’ve recovered and my energy is back, I’ve been happily busy in the studio. New leaf plates got some color, too. Three new Lily Vases got underglazed in red. 

And I had fun painting three new polar bears and a cat. Next on the agenda is a bisque firing. Finally!

Moving with my heart and my hearts. 

I’m grateful to be packing up some heart themed pieces to take and sell at a local gallery. I loved making these heart mugs, teacups, wine cups and candle holders. And I’m hoping they bring color and love into other people’s lives. 

I’m so grateful to have more energy, appetite and strength. 

The grey fog that seemed to hang over me is gone. 

I feel renewed and ready to move forward. 

Putting my heart into my work and life.

Just in time for Valentine’s Day.    

Showing. Selling. Shipping. Oh my.

 

It’s been a busy few weeks. Since I love to be busy, I’m happy. There’s a lot to do, as an artist, to get ready to show and sell my work. If you’re an artist, you know what it’s like. If you’re not, let me give you a little peek behind the curtain. 

Before I started showing my work over 20 years ago, I had no idea who, what, where and how to get my work out there. I just knew I had to make things. I painted, sculpted, carved and pounded. I went to galleries to see what ‘real’ artists did and what a gallery show looked like.

But it didn’t show me everything. 

Showing. 

My first gallery shows involved sending out packets to galleries around town. The mailed packet included: a letter of interest, a resume and slides of my work. Things have changed a lot since then, obviously. 

Social media and websites now provide all of the above and include a way for anyone to fill their cart with your art. I’m continually learning how to use these tools better to show and sell my art. 

But the one type of art sales I’ve never done is an outdoor art fair. Why? I admit, it’s intimidating.  Like Oz behind the curtain, galleries and online give me a way to be there without always being there. But outdoor art fairs put me and my work front and center, while people stroll by. Some just keep walking. And, luckily, some stop and talk and buy. 

Selling.

Putting together my work for my first outdoor fair was overwhelming. I needed a table, chairs, display cloth, shelves and a sign. I had to figure out how to display my work, inventory it, pack it up, unpack it at the show. Then, I had to sit behind the table and hope people would show up and hopefully, buy my work. 

Luckily, it all worked out great. My table didn’t fall over. My work looked nice. People did stop and look and buy. I got comfortable explaining how each piece was made. 

Shipping. 

Another unknown for me was how to wrap, box, label and ship my work that sold online. It made me very nervous. What if it broke? What if it went to the wrong place? What if I screwed up the address?

Really, the biggest shipping issue is the price. Especially now, with inflation and rising gas prices, shipping costs have skyrocketed. Even if the online store I use calculates shipping for me, I’ve lost money. Which is why I don’t do free shipping. Ceramics are heavy, require a lot of protective packaging which takes time and costs money. 

I love the work I do. 

I love it when other people love it too. 

I give thanks I get to do it everyday. 

Change

 

When I look in, out and around me all I see is change. Whether it’s the leaves on the trees, the election, covid case counts or new restrictions, everyday brings new information and adjustments to my daily life. 

I don’t know about you but it’s taken me a few weeks to get used to everything that’s happened around me. The election took its toll on me. I didn’t even realize I’d been holding my breath, worried that somehow things would go sideways. And let’s face it, it’s been a bumpy ride. I might now like it, but sometimes life is like that. 

Deadlines and deliveries. 

In the studio, I’ve had a lot to do. I admit I was surprised to be firing up my kiln twice in one week to meet a deadline. I usually get my work done well in advance. I’m a planner and a list maker which I realize doesn’t fit the artist stereotype. 

But I’ve learned that clay has its own timeframe. Cooler, rainy weather means it takes longer to dry. I have to wait to paint the colors, bisque fire, add glaze and do the final firing. While I’d like to hurry the process and force the clay to dry faster, I’ve learned with porcelain, that leads to cracks, bubbles or blow ups. So I watch it, feel it and work with it knowing I’ll be glad I did. 

This time, I was working with a new clay. I wasn’t really sure how long the drying cycle would take. I would’ve liked to wait a little longer to be sure, but I had a deadline. So I had to change my work routine and timing. 

Time to learn.

In order to glaze the new dove clay ornaments, I had to come up with a way to hang them in my kiln without letting them touch each other or the kiln shelves. I ordered heat resistant wire and bent it to fold in and over my kiln posts so each ornament hung in a separate groove during the firing. I slid each ornament into the groove, turned on the kiln and crossed my fingers. 

I opened the kiln the next day and let out a sigh. It all worked out. The ornaments were glazed on both sides, still hanging from the wires and now with a lovely pearl finish. 

Peace. 

 

I let out a huge sigh of relief that day. And I realize sighs of relief have been flowing out of me for days now. I sighed after the first big storm hit and my new roof and skylights proved strong and safe. I sighed when the election results finally came in. Yes, I sighed when I opened my kiln to see dove ornaments fired and fine.  

Throughout all of these changes surrounding me, I was hopeful, scared, doubtful and finally, relieved. Now, I hope these changes will bring peace and a change to come together, listen, learn and help each other.  

Small Steps

I’d like to say that this week has been an amazing array of big, grand and glorious things, events, sales and opportunities. I’d like to be able to look up at the sky and twirl like that opening scene from the TV show, Mary Tyler Moore. Or sing with free abandon(and on key) like Julie Andrews in the “Sound of Music”.  

But all I can truthfully say is that I showed up and did the best I could do. All the time looking up at the sky and asking, “Is it all over, yet?”

Slapping, rolling, trimming and cutting. 

Yup, the studio works doesn’t just give me something ‘to do’ to distract me from the current events swirling around, it saves me. Energizes me. And calms me. 

Precisely trimming a teacup takes all my focus. My mind cannot wander, well, unless I want a footless cup. Or an uneven bowl bottoms. But there is no doubt one of the most therapeutic part is slapping that clay down during hand building. I don’t have a slab roller, so throwing the clay down on a canvas board with a slap is a way to wedge and shape it before I roll it out. 

These are some of the many small steps it takes to make a finished bowl, teacup, vase, bird or ornament. Many days, it feels like nothing is getting done. 

Wise words always help me. 

Especially now, when I feel lost wise words of others help me find way. Martha Beck’s words landed in my inbox to save my day. 

 

“Any action we take, at any given moment, is small; big achievements are simply accretions of many small acts. Creating a full, meaningful life doesn’t mean doing huge things. It means that we align each small step we take with our sense of what’s right. And that takes courage.”

Martha Beck’s advice, “Today, look for two or three opportunities to act in accordance with what you most value, even though it takes courage. Tomorrow, do the same thing. And every day after that. Years from now, people will tell you that you’ve done big things. You’ll know better, of course. But it will be wonderful all the same.”

I don’t know that people will tell me I’ve done big things. After all, my teacups are small. But I do know that 10 years ago, my small step was a throwing class once a week and now, I see shelves full of vases and bowls and mugs and jars and, yes, teacups. And my work is out there online and in galleries. 

So, I know that once again, Martha Beck is right when she says, “It’s amazing how big a difference we can make over time, especially when all our small actions come together.”

“Still, I rise.”

 

Again and again and again. 2020. This week my inbox and social media is crowded with messages like yours, I’m sure. We are all feeling and seeing and reeling from fires, viruses, deaths and disasters. 

One email focused on letting it all go. Jen Louden made a great point, “There’s a profound difference between surrendering to what is vs. falling into the grubby kind of “why bother? I’m learning to navigate between the two. I’m learning to feel my disappointment and heartache while dropping my stories like, I suck because __________ didn’t work or never happened.”

Inspiration and work. 

I admit, I’ve been in the ‘let it all go’ giving up phase. I also admit, I was heading for ‘why bother’ land. Louden’s email helped me feel the difference and steer myself back on the road.

I found a quote from Maya Angelou’s poem, “Still, I rise” and I read her strong, beautiful, determined words over and over. My heart ached for her pain, saw her courage and felt my own small world rise.

Her words were the inspiration for a new piece. And I delivered it to a new gallery this week. Somehow the birds I’ve been making, Maya Angelou’s wonderful poem and the gallery’s 12x12 square all came together like magic. 

Being useful to the world. 

In the wake of Ruth Beader Ginsberg’s death, an email from Maria Shriver, Sunday Paper arrived with a question of how to turn despair into action. Asking everyone, “how you can be used right now. This is not a time for despair. This is not a time to bow out or go quiet. This is a seminal moment for each of us to dig in and dig deep.”

As an artist, how can I be used right now? I throw and hand build bowls, teacups, vases and birds in clay. This is not a revolutionary thing to do. My pieces don’t shout or march or protest. 

But, I realized the other day, they do make a statement. A friend came by my studio to buy one of my red ‘cup of love’ teacups. 

In the process, she loved and bought a bowl with the words, “Believe Love”.

And smiled happily at my Caterpillar/Butterfly with the words: love, joy, true, act, brave, kind. 

So maybe in letting it all go, I steered myself into new work that helped me rise. And maybe it will help my friend and others to rise, too. 

Despite the fear, death and smoke, I can hear Maya Angelou’s wonderful, brave words: 

“Still, like dust, I’ll rise”, “Still I’ll rise”, “Still, like air, I rise”, and “I rise. I rise. I rise.”

“Loosen your grip.”

That’s the message I got this week while leaning on my favorite cedar tree in the woods. As I stood there breathing deeply in and out, I realized I was curling my toes in my shoes. And there was absolutely no reason or need to be gripping the inside of my shoes. As always, Mother Cedar’s words were right on.

I uncurled my toes. Took a few more big deep breaths letting my jaw loosen, my eyes relax and my shoulders lower as I felt the warm energy of the earth flow through me. 

It’s been a tense and busy several months. I didn’t realize I was still carrying it all around. 

New Sculptures: Goddess of the Heart(top left), Goddess of the Trees(bottom left), Bluebird’s House

A show opening. 

My first featured show in years opened last Friday. It was a lovely evening surrounded by family, friends, gallery guests and supportive fellow artists. My talk to the group about my art went well and there were lots of interesting questions about the process of bringing these pieces to life. 

Labor of Art Show 2009, Mixed Media Story boxes

I’ve had a quite a few show openings in my 20 years as a working artist. And I want to point out my term - working artist - because this has been my focus, my job, my life. It is not a ‘hobby’. It is work. It is work I love, yes. Yet it was not easy and it took several decades of study, classes, assignments, practice, hours in the studio to get where I am today. 

And I’m not done. I’m still learning with every piece I throw or sculpt or build. There’s success with shows and sales as well as failures. No matter what, I keep seeing and making and putting it out there with love. Even this week, as I painted and loaded up the kiln I tried to remember to flow rather than push. 

“Prologue” 2019 

A mortality reminder. 

I am a melanoma survivor. When I was pregnant with my son, a mole on my leg that I’d had all my life was diagnosed as melanoma. I was terrified but luckily it was caught very early. It was removed with good margins with local anesthesia so as not to hurt the baby. I was 6 months pregnant at the time. 

I went in yearly for an overall skin check for a decade but as time went on and nothing went wrong, I let it go. I made appointments every 3 years instead. It was always fine. 

But three days before my gallery show, I had my first biopsy in 30 years. A suspicious area had appeared. I left with a few stitches and a lot of fear. Luckily for me, a few days later the call came to tell me it was not cancer this time. I was safe.

Into the woods. 

It was time. For me, one of the best ways to feed my soul and refresh my spirit is to head into the woods. I’m blessed there is a beautiful park near my home with a lake, big cedar grove and stands of birch. There are herons, geese, fish, ducks, otters and beavers.

That’s where I’ve been this week too. Wandering, leaning and hearing the wisdom that life is precious every day. That whether you succeed or fail or live or die, isn’t a matter of holding on but loosening up and letting it flow. 

About Faces

‘Prologue’ Mask, porcelain, $300

From our very awakening at birth, life is all about faces. Seeing, knowing, loving begins with the faces of those around us. It’s not only a survival tool, it’s our very nature. 

I’ve written about this before. I see faces everywhere. It’s called Pareidolia. So I’m not alone in what I see, it’s an ability we all as humans, share. 

Whether I’m in line at the grocery store, watching clouds in the sky or touching the bark of trees in the woods, faces draw my attention. Happy or sad. Young or old. Spirited or wise. I find meaning and messages and connections and stories in each one. 

‘Healer’ Witch, porcelain, $50

Meeting new faces. 

I just delivered a new group of sculptures to the gallery, Art On Broadway. It’s been a little scary and at first, I wasn’t sure why. I’ve been in many gallery shows, local shows, regional invitationals over the decades as a working artist. 

I realized this week, it felt different because this is the first non-group show I’ve done in quite a while. It’s a dual show with printmaker, Beate Scheller. Her work is lovely in black and white and she, too, loves faces. 

We met on Saturday to hang our show. Again, not something I’ve done in a gallery show. Usually, that task is done by the curator or gallery owner. This time, Beate and I cleared the space, dusted and arranged the pedestals. While Beate hung her prints, I unpacked my new work. Yes, that’s it too. All of these sculptural pieces are new this year and this is their first show. 

Facing my fears. 

Showing my work in a group show is fun and relaxing and easy. My work is on display alongside many other artists’ work. I can hide in plain sight. In this show, I am the only ceramic artist. So not only is my work on display, so am I. 

In this group of work, I started with my love of nature. 

My simple leaf form became a cloak for a group of fairy witches. 

Tree bark inspired a pair of nature goddesses dressed in a combination of natural elements, Celtic symbols and feminine details. Shapeshifters appear again in my work in new forms. 

This group of work has sat around in pieces on my studio shelves for quite a while, staring down at me. I stared up at their faces, wondering. And finally, listening. 

They finally told me their stories and I did my best to bring them to form. But these are not just my stories, they are yours, too. These are stories we have all understood from our first look at the world around us. 

It’s all about faces.   

Sculpting is Fun. Doing My Own Photography is NOT.

I held my breath as I opened the kiln. Then, I let it out with a smile and a thank you to the clay gods, goddesses and the universe. I’ve been working so hard on this new body of sculptural work. It’s taken months and with some pieces years to get to this point. There is no going back. It’s over for better or worse. 

This time, I am blessed. Every piece came out in one piece, colors bright and the new pearl glaze shimmering nicely. But I wasn’t done, yet. 

It’s time for your close up. 

I am not a professional photographer. I had a wonderful, talented pro who took pictures of my work for years and I admired his excellence and expertise every time. He patiently assessed every piece I’d brought, decided on background, set up and snapped away. He retired. Now I am on my own. 

In this age of cell phone photography, it’s easy to think that shooting pictures is as easy as a click of a button. It’s not. 

Good photography is a complex dance between light and shadow, foreground and background, composition and editing. These days you need a digital camera with double digit megapixels, zoom, computer downloadable and a good editing app or software. Add a tripod, seamless background, table set up and lights. Whew.

Let there be light. 

Lighting is the key to good art photography. My photographer did a wonderful job and I now try to emulate his technique as best I can. I use this set up in my garage which is the only place I can have the kind of complete darkness which is necessary to get good lighting. 

I know it sounds crazy but starting in complete darkness is the key to good lighting. When I first attempted my photos, I had too much light and the background was too light, too flat and dulled the colors in my pieces. This time I really tried to get more contrast between the background and my work. I was aiming for gradation from top to bottom of dark to light in each picture. I think I did better this time. But I know I need to learn more. 

Learning is lifelong. 

Yes it is. It’s not always easy and I’m not the most patient student. Technology overwhelms me sometimes. Playing with lights and camera makes me act a little crazy. I’ll admit, my dog heard a lot of bad words that day. Sorry, pup. 

But all in all, I love learning. Even when I get frustrated, I never want to stop. I truly believe that the key to a long, healthy life is learning. Maybe one of these times taking pictures of my work will become as easy as building with clay on a good day.

Creating Relaxation.

I am a go go, do do, move faster kind of person. The more I have on my 'to do' list, the happier I am, or so I think. But the last few weeks, I've been forced to slow down because a cold and cough just literally took the wind out of me. 

For a few days, watching Netflix, reading and napping was comforting but after three weeks, part of me really rebelled. I wanted to race walk to the park. Get on the wheel and throw. Prune my bushes for spring. I got myself off the couch and back to work and my body rebelled with more coughing and exhaustion. 

How can I relax more?

This question came through my email inbox from well known author, Tara Mohr. As she was stuck in traffic worried about being late for an appointment, she asked herself this question. She found that in many instances where she would normally rush, push and stress, she could find a way to relax.

It made me wonder. Is it really me or is it life long conditioning that keeps me on the move almost 24/7? It's not the first time I've wondered about whether I'm the driver or being driven. Maybe just like Tara, I could stop pushing the pedal to the metal so hard. Certainly my body needed a slower pace. 

Maybe instead of missing something, I might discover some things.

Here's what I found out:  I still got work done. I got my work priced and delivered and set up for two shows. I did get some of my bushes pruned and some of them got pruned by the wind storm. I did have to say no to a few things I wanted to go and do, so my body could get the rest it needed. But as a result, of not pushing and over-doing, I'm slowly starting to feel better. 

Now, when I get temped to go, go, go, I ask myself, "Can I create relaxation, too?"

When I'm driving, I can rest my head against the headrest instead of trying to push the other cars with my neck. When I'm shopping, I can take a breath while waiting in line. Working in the studio, I can look up at the sky in between paint strokes. While unloading my work and setting up my shelves for the show, I can step back, take a breath(because I literally had to) and look at the overall display. Walking doesn't always need to be a race, just because I'm choosing to walk slower doesn't mean I am slow.

I don't think I have to come to a full stop which is what I fear most. I realize I can just hit the pause button, take a breath and create a little relaxation in that one moment. Creating relaxation while in motion makes everything flow a little smoother.