Fun to see how a friend will be displaying her blob cluster. Because it will be hanging on a neutral wall, she designed a close fitting backing and covered it with an emerald green paper. Display variations on these multiples are endless!
OCTO*STAR
This piece is a special commission for a friend, currently living in the Feusier Octagon House in San Francisco’s Nob Hill neighborhood. I had the great fortune to visit last summer, when we talked about creating an eight-sided Guide Star to commemorate the years the family lived in the rented space. Up until then, my plywood pieces had all been hexagonal, not by any intentional numerology, but due to the fact that I’d designed them using scrap material. So in addition to adding a couple of sides, the project took me away from my comfort zone—sliding shapes around on the studio floor—into less familiar territory, creating digital files to cut triangles from and then piece together.
Who doesn’t prefer repeating the process they know and love? I know I certainly do. But as this year has shown us in a most dramatic fashion, figuring out how to do things a little differently can also offer a tremendous reward. Will a decagon be next???
24 x 24 x 3 inches
FAREWELL, COVID SUMMER
LATE SUMMER IN THE GARDEN
The other week I got a huge kick out of watching a new banana plant leaf begin to unfurl, just like one belonging to a small houseplant would. Current Craft Center resident Abi Ogle shared in my excitement, however, she has been utilizing garden materials in her work and seems to be equally, if not more, gripped by the wonder of what’s growing here.
If you told me even a couple of years ago that I’d be dazzled by ordinary plants (that is to say, anything but a cactus) I’d probably have made a quizzical face. In fact, it was during a quick visit last fall, as Sandi and her partner journeyed through Taos, that it first occurred to me to join the effort she leads at the Craft Center, more inspired by our friendship than any burning desire to get my hands in the dirt. Or so I thought. That the weekly weeding sessions have become such a pleasure, not to mention source of replenishing fascination, is just one of many tremendous surprises this year.
TURKEY BEND
Last week I joined Claire and her stalwart canine companion on a stroll through the East End to a part of Buffalo Bayou known as Turkey Bend. It’s part of the Buffalo Bayou East Master Plan, though at present the unimproved state of this industrial site holds its infinite appeal.
Exploring the site transported me back to living in Pittsburgh at the turn of this century, a place where the urban and the industrial rolled into an overgrown rural feeling in a way that I hadn’t experienced before. As usual for Houston, the clouds stole the show, though I’ve tried to capture some of the structures, vegetation, and graffiti that offered playful visual interaction—and will surely not remain so gloriously forlorn for long.
One part of the evening left unrecorded was a small, lone turtle that kept swimming by us as we sat talking on the edge of the cloudy water. The other was the joy in just catching up with a friend. Once again, it’s the simple pleasures that stand out as powerful little miracles in 2020.
MUSHROOM WEEK
Imagine my surprise during a dry, hot summer week to find these fuzzy mushrooms pop up on the front lawn, defying anything I know about the cool, moist environment preferred by such organisms. Because I couldn’t identify what was sprouting, I made up a story that these creatures were the missing link between the fungi kingdom and my recent felt artworks, imagining that they surfaced below my window to inspire further progress with the collection of organic forms growing in my living room studio.
It was fun to monitor them over the ensuing days as they lost their fibrous surface and became more delicate. As weather shifted to a wetter pattern they began to look more like mushrooms instead of the anomalous creatures of the week before.
It was right around then that I started noticing fruits everywhere, from little brown mushrooms (LBMs) at the craft garden, no doubt enjoying new irrigation lines, to various boletes spotted on evening neighborhood walks. I was already a person who delighted in small discoveries such as these and Covid summer has only heightened my appreciation for the spontaneous growth happening all of the time, all around, that I may not have been as present to notice before.
THE FELT STORE SPONSORSHIP
I’m happy to announce that The Felt Store has supplied a stash of remnant pieces of their wool blend craft felt for use in a new body of work. These pieces will further my work to date making abstract organic forms using stuffed and folded fabric elements, with the usual dose of surprises along the way, no doubt. With a working title of Every Last Drop, the project continues my commitment to utilizing scrap materials in my creative process and also refers to the many drips, bubbles, and ripples of this series.
It’s such a gift to be able to use this extended season of Covid to experiment with multiples at home on my own timeline. I’m reminded that last summer I strained to keep up with the prompts I had created for myself for participating in the 100 Day Project. Over the project timeline, a creator is supposed to brainstorm and iterate daily on a theme for over three months. This could be as simple as draw a cat or as complex or conceptual as one’s own imagination. While it is a powerful way to push through blocks and those nagging questions of whether something is ‘good’ and just keep going, it was difficult for me to share pieces on social media that I didn’t love, which is simply inevitable over that period of time.
That said, it was also during this period that Guide Stars rushed into being, a body of work that I’m quite proud of, so I’m convinced of the value of the effort while at the same time wish there was a way to hold one’s self accountable without having to publicly post so many duds. This summer I’ll enjoy going at my own pace and presenting images of my work when I’m satisfied with them. Without the other experience, however, it’s likely that I wouldn’t be able to fully appreciate the beauty in this kind of slowing down. Despite the challenges brought on this year, I hold huge gratitude for the endless opportunities to reflect, create, and grow.
