Ghost Dancer sculptural installation

When Sarah Fimm asked me if I wanted to be involved in an awareness raising outdoor art installation at the Bearsville Theater for Seva, just outside of Woodstock, I went to work imagining the piece. I knew that they did work in various countries repairing eyesight. My own mother recently lost her vision. Although I couldn't replace her sight, maybe I could help fund the needed health care for others. After doing fourteen collages, all dealing with the dance between two people from a decidedly feminine perspective, I thought I knew exactly what I would sculpt. The sculpture would be related to the artwork that had  been being produced since November of 2011.


Then I had a vivid dream and saw Ghost Dancer. As I woke, I heard the words resounding in my head "Make me".  What I found out later that morning was that the sculpture would serve the Seva's Native American Community Health Program which has been working to reverse Type 2 diabetes within these communities. 


Eighteen days from start to finish; it was a marathon run to make the deadline of June 18th. It started with drawings, of the armature, of the inner sctructure that would be laid on top of that, and the final layer, which would be seen. It had to be completely waterproofed. Despite being laid with plastic and my utmost care, the studio floor was littered in scraps of wood, chicken wire bits, small pellets of plaster, carving tools, twine and coffee cups. I learned quickly, turn on the light and don't walk through the studio barefoot! 


The horse was found online. Amazingly it was exactly as in the dream! Every detail perfect, down to the pink of the bridle. He was laid into two separate bricks of cement to ensure that he didn't topple in a summer rain storm. 


Today, June 30th, is the big debut at the Bearville Theater, where I will have the opportunity to share this intimate journey with a larger community. 


Ghost Dancer represents the ecological challenges we now must honestly face. How do we each best serve our dear planet and ourselves? This outdoor sculptural installation reminds us that once the Native Americans lived within our localities in a natural context. Now the world is surrounded by overwhelming artificiality and plastic, which has replaced the indigenous way of life. Like the Ghost Dancer himself, we must ponder on where we go from here. Seva means service. It refers to selfless service altruistically offered on behalf of and for the betterment of community. What can we each do to better serve our beautiful mother Earth, who gives to fulfill our every need?


And me? I will spend the day sharing him and giving thanks for the skill set that allowed this seed to grow. 

     Richard Edelman's exhibition opening of his Liminal Portraits was last Saturday at the Davis Orton gallery in Hudson NY. It is a great show.

     Imagine my surprise to discover that this first shot, "Lucinda #1" in the Liminal Series, the one that was made spontaneously during Ward Fleming's birthday party, and led to so many more, was published in both the New York Times Sunday edition and the Albany Times Union.

That's the beauty. One just never knows where something will lead, when those first few steps begin and you push into the screen, revealing yourself, in gentle play. 

     

Collages

It's been so freeing, this wild ride.

This first in my collage series, titled "Flame" was the stepping off point. She gave birth to all that has followed. While she burns in the licking fire, devoured by passion, all she surrenders becomes transformed. Entering into the air, lifted by wild winds of change, these essences filter to the fertile ground. There they burrow under, rooting. The small sprouts reach for the light and spread their tender leaves.

This is what life is for us. Our emotions and interests bring us to a precipice. It is up to us to make the leap. Then caught in the warm embrace of the current, we fly. Higher than ever imagined. As Todd Rudgren said "This time I'm not coming down."

thanks!

Someone gave me a most generous present yesterday: over 100 tubes of amazing quality oil paint, a slew of brushes, pigments, solvents, trays, an easel a bunch of palette knives and a small three shelved table. Needless to say, all this required a studio organizational frenzy. Since it's my birthday week, it seemed perfectly in tune. I opened old cans of oil paint that I suspected may have dried out. The bad ones went in the garbage along with other sundry studio related trash. Between the brushes I had and the ones I was gifted, there is an amazing collection of tools. Add the oil paints to the ones in-house, and again, my cup truly runneth over. Besides canvas

At exactly this moment the radio started playing a song that I have been singing in my head for 24 hours. The name of it escapes me, but one of the lines is "...until we die...learning to live together. We have to get it together...it's getting better and better."

So thank you to the universe for ALL my blessings. Even the ones I didn't recognise as such at the time , seeing the blessing of the journey in retrospect.

Thank you to my friends far and wide.

Thank you for my gifts.

Thank you for my home.

Thank you for the wide world of nature. That includes Artemis, of course!

Thank you for my life and everything that it has and will encompass.

and of course, thank you for sharing this special time on this spinning blue orb with me.

The bagpipes are playing...time to go paint!

Shadows

Soft undefined shadows

dance through the shoji screens.

As soft as vapor and just as fluid.

Constant movement in the summer wind.

Your element.

I think of you

with wonder

while on the other polarity of this oft visited place.

All 1's and 0's is what stands

While my heart echoes the strands

that remain embedded.

Life is a gift

Last night I went to Woodstock, to dance and to celebrate the life of a musician, Betty MacDonald. She was an old friend to many and a new friend to some. I don't recall ever not knowing her. Her rich approach to life, and the many ways she gave back to community, touched many people, many of whom were among the folks stomping their feet to Marc Black and Company. It was a collective, musical outpouring of that sad reality: we are only here for a short time. All that I experienced during that short time of moving my feet to the beat was a reminder to love the life you are in, the body that you inhabit, and the people who are in it.

Grief is the oyster in the shell. The uncomfortable gem that rolls around inside our hearts when the web has yet another hole. In my own experience I have learned that it just becomes a part of who you will be. This sense of loss will become less sharp and mellow with time. But it will not leave. Rather, it will open you. The oyster offering its' prize.

Remember to love. Holy, passionate, all embracing love is the best of the human experience. With no exceptions, offer your hand in friendship to those who surround you. Be remembered one day for the goodness of your true essence.

And if you have a few moments, bring to your consciousness those who have moved beyond your scope of understanding. This is how we hold the web, by the remembrance of all we have held dear.

painting in yellows

Ordered the 5 cords of wood on this drizzly day. Just a weather related reminder that the season always seems to change here in the Hudson Valley during the 3rd week in August. Sun in Virgo = autumn. As if that weren't enough, tomatoes were waiting to be picked, red and juicy on the vine. After all the hot days in July, I am more ready than not for crisp, cool days. Another great attraction of the fall: I noticed that the oil paint on the palette is not evaporating as quickly. Saving $, always a plus.

Off to work on a painting. All in yellows. I'm using sap green, which I rarely use. Between that, yellow ocher, cobalt blue and the ever present raw umber, I am getting some interesting shading. Only about 100 hours to go on it!

More later. In the meantime, I hope that we are all busy creating the world we imagine!