it seems more positive.
at the moment, I'm in love with plaster. the molds are coming along. I've made prints off some of them, given some of the carved painted waxed molds away as gifts, or in exchange for things, but most of them are still pale and patient, in the garage.
the plaster carves nicely. especially when it's damp, on a foggy morning, just after the school bus has gone down the hill and the birds are promising sun later on in the day. I was doing more scratching at first, learning the tools. so a lot of the first ones are very complicated, all sorts of confusing mishmashes of strokes, but I'm teaching myself so it's mostly trial and error.
and there are fine differences I'm enjoying learning about. that, for instance, damp plaster rubbed with a dry cloth gives a different effect than dry plaster rubbed with a damp cloth. and who could have predicted - well. someone could have, I suppose. but I didn't. the lovely surprise when the black food colouring turned the white plaster verdigris and the most luscious shade of peach, or salmon maybe.
(that reminds me of the time my husband called from the hardware store to say the only light mis-tinted - and therefore cheap - paint they had was a salmon colour. cooked or raw, I asked him. he and the paint guy had a fine laugh at my expense, but I was quite serious. and just so you know, they were both wrong, it was definitely cooked and not raw.)
for the carving I'm using my craft store niji wood carving knives, the ones I dulled carving the old bedframes that still haven't been turned into something. a cabinet, that was the original plan, or maybe not the original one, but the last of the original ones, that was months ago. I still have the pieces, and the sketches and notes I made. all I need to do is drill the holes and combine the pieces, like a puzzle. and then put the little shelves in, and set the jars on it. the jars are waiting, in the shed and on the windowsill, full of various and sundry things.
(twisted electrical cord cut into pieces looks like black licorice whips. there's your useless art tip for the day.)
Wednesday, February 4, 2009
I've decided to think of myself as prolific rather than obsessive, as far as making things goes.
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4 comments:
which all goes to show that it's our perceptions that inform us and drive us.
prolific, creative, generous - you exhibit all of these adjectives and more, painted in vibrant, glorious colors
the trouble I have with buddhist thought is that - however it's created or influenced by my own perceptions - I do believe I am a separate (yet connected) individual entity.
thank you for the kind words. I'm practicing replacing the unkind ones I usually call myself with others. not in an attempt to deny the things that I would like to change, or to imply that I'm faultless. (as my mother said of herself, and it's become family legend, "I must have some faults". of course this is best imagined as being delivered in a slightly disbelieving, but kind and good-humoured voice.)
at a behavioral workshop I just attended, current thinking says we act in the ways we do for two basic reasons - to get something or get away from something. We should ask ourselves, "What am I hoping to gain here?" or alternatively, "What am I avoiding with this behavior."
The workshop was designed to help us help kids who use nonconstructive, negative ways to deal with situations but I found those questions helpful for myself.
seeking and avoiding. such simple creatures people are. I told my daughters the other day that the cat wasn't just a little person in a cat suit, and was driven by imperatives like food and shelter. basic needs. maybe we're just cats in people suits. looking for nothing more than something to eat and somewhere warm and safe to rest, and something to chase after now and then, just for excitement.
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