Sticky Situations

(From the perspective of an easily distracted redhead on a windy day.)

Lively shapes on driveways catch my eye even when I'm in a hurry.  

A Bit of Rest Now

No more carving, printing, and cutting out teeny little houses!!!  Oh wait, that process was actually quite enjoyable.  In fact, I think I might do it again... Although preferably not in exchange for an entire night's sleep.

Regarding the opening reception on Friday, I will say that although the exhibit itself was exciting, I was more thrilled that our show cultivated fellowship... new friends, dear close friends, precious family, loved professors, enthusiastic friends-of-friends, kind strangers, and friendly-looking people... So many lovely, unique things and people, all lovingly-made, packed into that little white gallery space like it was a treasure chest!  Anyone with claustrophobia may not have felt the same way.  Photos and a more details of the final exhibit coming soon!

Meanwhile, wise words from a friend during our conversation this evening: 

"It's not so much what you do, but that you do something." 

As I consider the possible directions I could go after college ends, I'm glad for this reminder to keep exploring, creating, and loving, despite my uncertainty.

Come Have a Gander

Senior Art Exhibition

Wild and Shy - Mixed Media

Opening Reception April 25 @ 7:00pm

Houghton College Ortlip Gallery

14

One Tiny House Down

My Desk

"How is your senior show stuff coming?" they ask excitedly.  I don't know.  Um.  Chaos.  Too much brainstorming and experimenting.  Not enough finished work.  I'm feeling quite unprepared for the exhibit opening this Friday, I'll be honest.  Ya, its this Friday.  So I need to be setting up my display in a couple days.  Planning to carve more linoblocks tonight and do a lot of printing tomorrow.  Borrowed a few specimen jars and display boxes form the science building to experiment with.  I decided to scratch the jar idea, but may still use the display boxes.  I would try to explain my ideas but even I'm confused about it most of the time, and I don't have the energy.  Still, I wanted to show a bit of the process.  Here, you can just take a peak at my desk.  I hope to post more details as I pull everything together in the next few days.  

Tonight I'll be carving bug-sized houses, and probably listening to this song to stay awake:

Mutemath - Typical (Video) - YouTube

How We Celebrated

First, we missed church due to some unfortunate communication/ alarm clock mishaps.   Disappointed and hungry, we entered Spragues Maple Farms restaurant into the GPS and ventured to find breakfast.  The drive through New York country was lovely, but much longer than I expected, and with the utter lack of rest-stops I began joking (entirely joking) about walking up to a random house to ask to use their bathroom.  20 minutes later, I actually did this.  Bless my friend who got out of the car first to ask them for me, since I'm not sure I would have dared.  I thanked the strangers kindly, wished them a Happy Easter, and we went on our way.  We eventually found the restaurant, ate many pancakes, and discussed our passions and hopes  for art and life and the world.  We also simply enjoyed each other's company, lamenting that we are weeks away from graduation and thus separation, and wistfully planning artist reunions that likely won't happen.  

But they might. 

Festively, there were peeps on our pancakes, thoughtfully organized so the girls had pink peeps and the guys had blue.  I appreciated the peeps.  Reminded me of home.  (Mom always buys us peeps).

On our way back to our car, these alluring objects (stones? chunks of glass?) were spotted in a stranger's truck bed.  

This note, expressing my friend's "interest in the stone/objects in the back of the truck" was written and slipped through their slightly cracked window, in hopes that they will contact him and direct him to where he can find such treasures.

And this note was also written, since the first note fell down into a crevice in the car seat.  

Thus, we had a splendidly strange morning; not exactly a traditional Easter, yet what better way to celebrate the life and hope we celebrate on this day than with a roadtrip and meaningful talk over pancakes with friends?  Praise Him who loved us... and who created adventure!  

Heated Situation

I'd sadly never helped out with the wood firing before; I suppose I feared falling in to the flames or something.  I finally joined fellow students and artist-friends of the Baxter's to assist with the 24-hour long, wonderfully labor-intensive process.  Above, the kiln waits unlit and pottery sits enclosed carefully within.  The abundance of wood scraps would be consumed by the next afternoon.  We made use of the tiny wood fragments to start and maintain the flames, gradually increasing until by nightfall anything that would fit was fed through the little door to the fire.  If the temperature inside the kiln was raised too dramatically and suddenly, our ceramics could explode.

We often stirred the coals to prevent the fire from choking on itself.  The heat on your face and arms (in my case, my legs, since I was brilliant and wore shorts) as you reach in with a long iron rod was at moments unbearable.  The coals constantly glowed and sparkled.  Stunning.  Spell-binding.  Sun-like.   The process never ceased to be exciting.  We took shifts to catch a few hours of sleep throughout the night, since the fire required stoking each time the smoke died down from the chimney. 

  

The kiln takes about a week to cool down, so we've all eagerly awaited the unloading of the kiln tomorrow.  The ash from the firing will have left an interesting texture on some of our pottery.  Soon those effects, as well as which ceramics were among the few that exploded, will be revealed... 

Charming house above built by Gary Baxter.  I have no pictures from inside but most of everything, from the staircase to the dishes we ate on, was beautiful and made by Gary.

On the Move

The world beyond my window, frosty only days ago... 

And today, steeped in sun.  

Upon Waking

“It comes the very moment you wake up each morning. All your wishes and hopes for the day rush at you like wild animals. And the first job each morning consists simply in shoving them all back; in listening to that other voice, taking that other point of view, letting that other larger, stronger, quieter life come flowing in. And so on, all day. Standing back from all your natural fussings and frettings; coming in out of the wind.” 
― C.S. Lewis

At Night

Laden with chattering squirrels and crows by day, the forest now stands quiet and unseen,  mysteriously uncovered only where the lamplight touches its edges.  Thanks to nightfall and street lamps for unmasking the eerie and lovely things that catch my eye and inspire me at night.  Tonight their golden branches, so loose and bold, reminded me of Asian brush strokes.

 I suspect this lamp post never asked to be involved in the drama between those trees.  Or some nights I imagine him a humble thing, unaware of his own influence and who never expected to be so wrapped in love and beauty.  Whether he is content, miserable, or oblivious, I am glad he lives by my house entangled in those particularly graceful and lively branches.  

"All that is gold does not glitter,

Not all those who wander are lost; 

The old that is strong does not wither,

Deep roots are not reached by the frost.

From ashes the fire shall be woken,

A light from the shadows shall spring;

Renewed shall be blade that was broken;

The crownless again shall be king."

-- J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring