THE EASTERNMOST POTTER IN THE UNITED STATES

Unplugged....sort of

2012-01-21T14:36:00.001-08:00

Clay form ready to be molded with plaster

Plaster poured into clay forms:
1) will be a hump mold
2) plaster will be the finished sculpture
3) will be a slump-type mold for clay or wax

Clay removed and voila! A hump mold, slump mold, and relief sculpture.

This morning I had breakfast with Buddha. Well, not in the literal sense. I mean, I woke up and laid in bed for eight hours reading the book "Breakfast with Buddha" by Roland Merullo. The timing was quite poignant. See, this past week I decided to take some time to "unplug" from the world: No news, TV, phone calls, email, facebook, etc. Just time to "be". My friend Diane does this sort of homestyle retreat at least once a year for several days. I feel consistently envious. My self-induced hectic life always has a to-do list a mile long with looming deadlines. Though a lover of reading, most of what I read is research oriented to learn something specific. Pleasure reading, like a really good fiction novel, falls low on the priority list. Sad, I know.

So I decided that I would do a 36-hour retreat. I would turn off the phone, talk to no one, read/watch no news (which always gets me riled up), set aside work issues, as well as things that I feel "need" to be done. I started to map out my two precious days of "just me" time. Then it dawned on me that if I were to actually make a plan with time slots for each thing I were to do, then that would be just like any other day. I decided to do something different. I decided to have no plan. I would do, merely, what I felt like doing, when I felt like doing it.

So, today I woke at 6:00 a.m. and reached for "Breakfast with Buddha." While reading, I had breakfast. And tea. And snack. And lunch. I laid in bed the entire time with Bouli and Bello devotedly at my feet, occasionally on my chest, purring loudly to let me know that they liked this new pace and the extra attention. We didn't leave the comforts of the warm silent space (except for food and bathroom) until I finished reading the entire book.

I loved this book. Not only because it was humorous, but because I could relate to the main character. I wish I could say it was Volya Rinpoche that I related to, an enlightened sort, rather, it was Otto, the skeptic who had much to learn.

The book made me ask myself questions like "Why do I find it so hard to meditate?" or "how much money does a person need?" or "when does a person consider themselves rich - materially or spiritually?" and "how much of our lives do we control versus what is fated for us?" "What are the most important things, and how would I live my life if I had no barriers?" All questions I've asked myself before, but since I had all these hours of "unplugged" time, I thought I might as well ponder the answers.

I have tried formal meditation many times, but never felt successful. My mind does not slow down. The most peaceful I get is when I am at the potter's wheel or weaving. I think back to one experience a few years ago when I was at a weekend retreat. I had chosen to attend an afternoon session facilitated by a man that was much like the character Volya Rinpoche. As a non -meditater, I was not prepared for what I was about to partake. It turned out that in this afternoon session we were to sit in silence and not move until we felt moved by something beyond our own thoughts....by something metaphysical, or spiritual; to be like a leaf, that has fallen on the ground. It does not move until a wind comes along and moves it.

Uh oh. Not my idea of fun.

For two hours I sat silent, cross-legged Indian style, not moving one bit, focused on a single nail in the wall. I never did feel moved by spirit to jump up and dance or perform some sort of "be a palm-tree" choreography, as a few others did. (and honestly, I thought they were bullshitting to look cool) Instead, I experienced my entire body falling asleep, except for my mind. My mind was just as active as ever, but when we were to each take a turn at describing our experience, I found that the words did not come out so easy. This was not because I could not think of anything - but instead, it was because even my lips and tongue had fallen asleep. My words came out, to my embarrassing surprise, slurred and nearly inaudible. Hell, what do I mean by nearly? I'm positive that no one understood what I said. I felt like a fool.

It was indeed a strange sensation, and an interesting experience. But I would be lying if I didn't say that I was happy to have the two hour "workshop" behind me. Kudos to those who practice formal meditation. It is harder than it looks!

That memory sparked another. I can say that once in my life I felt that my mind had emptied. It was the most incredible sensation. At another weekend healing arts retreat, I participated in a firewalking workshop. I had done this a few years previous, too, and still, met the current challenge with a certain level of anxiety. Preparation consists of hours of sharing feelings with a group, building a trust, and releasing negative thoughts and anger. To enter the coals with a less than pure heart could mean burnt feet. We were encouraged to think about our intentions and what we hoped to experience or learn. Knowing that my mind always felt cluttered, I focused on one request to the powers that be....that I experience a clear mind, to know what it feels to have no worries.

Despite hours of mental preparation and having walked coals before, I still felt my nerves rise a bit. But it was a magical late summer evening. As we began our walk, flames giving way to glowing orange coals, the lake came to life with the cries of loons. I walked the coals once. Silently. Reverently. Each person took their turn, some more than once. When all were done, silence was broken and those who shared the experience felt a new kinship with one another. Coals were raked until danger of fire subsided and everyone parted to return to their cabins for sleep.

I walked back to my cabin alone, down a tree-lined, heavily rooted path. As I walked, moonlight beaming the way, I felt a lightness - and an emptiness - that is impossible to fully describe. It was like I was walking consciously and knew my way, but my mind was clear. Everything around me became more intense: the moonlight was brighter, the trees greener, taller, the sounds of crickets louder. I could see, feel, hear, sense everything more intensely. I felt no thoughts in my mind except an awareness that I felt empty, peaceful, but incredibly sensitive to the life around me. It was an amazing feeling, floating above ground, like the huge burden of everyday mental ping pong had been lifted. I'll always remember that feeling because of its rareness.

After reading this morning's book, and recalling such intense experiences these two times in my life, I feel an urge to try to recapture these two sensations - one of my mind being alert and detached from my body, and the other sensation of sensing all fully with a mind that is completely cleared. And what of the two could be bridged somehow - would that be the total mind/body experience to the fullest extent?

I am now a mere thirteen hours into my thirty-six hours of unplugged retreat, and well, I kinda feel done with the silence for now. I know it sounds strange, but this taking it slow and easy kinda day has worn me out! After reading, I spent three hours in the cave sculpting and listening to music. I'm kinda missing talking to my husband. The cats look at me when I talk to them, but there is no reciprocation other than a blink or a yawn or a stretch for affection. I have (obviously) given in to the computer and broken my vow of temporary symbolic silence by writing this long blog which will then be posted and the link emailed. Other than that little break in the "plan" to have no plan and be unplugged, all feels good. It's supper time and I look forward to waking tomorrow to do...???? It's the great unknown. I will see what moves me.....like that leaf waiting for the wind to blow.

A New Semester Begins at Heartwood College of Art

2012-01-15T04:31:00.000-08:00

Below is a recent piece that I finished, a three dimensional model for an installation
about military recruitment.

Let's Make a Deal
Shanna Wheelock, 2011
3D model for installation, 36" x 24" x 12"
Wood, ceramic, fabric, paper, acrylic paint, found object

Let's Make a Deal

(front side, view from top)

Let's Make a Deal: Curtain #1

Let's Make a Deal: Curtain #2

Let's Make a Deal: Curtain #3

Let's Make a Deal
(backside, view from top)

This week marks the beginning of my fifth semester in the Heartwood College of Art MFA program. I have spent the past couple weeks working out some new ideas and soon I will be able to step into the studio to begin the physical manifestation of my visualizations. It's kinda funny how the process works. Two weeks ago I felt solid about my plan, but then my mentors chimed in with their thoughts and it gets me to rethinking everything. Ultimately, the decision becomes my own, but there's just enough of a curve ball to make me doubt, then eventually come to a space where I once again feel comfortable with my (sometimes altered) direction. The thing about direction, though, is that it can change in a flash. Sometimes we choose this way or that, and sometimes we are veered by another force. Much of life is a combination of both.

Joining the program at Heartwood has had profound effects on my thinking and actions as an artist, teacher, and human being. A program such as this is NOT your typical educational experience where you step into a classroom, listen to a lecture, take notes, then recall facts for an exam. It is unfortunate that much of education is that way. Instead, with the MFA program at Heartwood, we are forced to think and create our own path. We have mentors who guide us in the process, who provide an immense amount of feedback, and offer an objective eye. It's easy, as the artist, to be too attached to your work and idea that you can forget that other eyes see and interpret your work in different ways. Art is, after all, a powerful form of communication, and we all know how lines of communication can get tangled!

So, I am beginning a new semester and am eager to jump into the materials. I have two spaces in which I do most of my creating - one being the dark 'neath earth dingy, clay-dust clad cave where I sit at the wheel or sculpt with clay. The other space, in much contrast, is part of my home - a favorite nook with a futon where I can get warm and cozy while I sketch, research, and write. I hop between the various spaces depending on which part of the process is on tap for the moment. The past few days I have spent time reorganizing my spaces, clearing out the supply closet, and taking inventory, all the while allowing the art images to flow through my mind. I have a couple of sculptural goals this spring, one being to create an installation piece for an upcoming show in June, and the other to work with a specific color. Color. Such a simple concept, right? Well, color is what I would consider one of my personal areas of struggle. I am very much comfortable with form, which makes sense since I am a sculptor. It will be interesting to see the path my work takes this semester. It's always a surprise for me. No matter how attached I feel to a plan, inevitably, things change along the way.

I will still continue to hone my skills as a juggler in the circus of life. Yep. Multitasking at its finest. I am bumping up production with my pottery and setting new goals, balancing my sculptor and potter self with my teacher self, all the while continuing to teach art in public school.

One of the major pluses about the MFA program at Heartwood is that it is both part-time and low residency. It's not an online course even though I use email for some correspondence between campus meetings. Rather, it is a program where we meet on campus twice a semester for intensive seminar weekends and presentation critiques. The schedule was specifically created for people just like me, who might be teaching or working some other job. Luckily most students in my pod are teachers and we not only support each other in our teaching roles, but we work on a similar timeline. It's perfect for the self-motivated working artist who needs flexibility in scheduling. Two courses a semester is half a full time MFA program so it takes a bit longer to get my MFA, but I couldn't imagine trying to handle a full time program on top of my other work commitments.

Speaking of commitments, I am continuing my work with Lubec Arts Alive and we are getting ready to begin planning for this next summer's event. Some of our committee members (well, more than half!) are in other locations for the winter months so it will be a gentle re-entry into community planning mode until everyone is back in town and on board. Time to get the binder organized and go over last years event to see what goals should be set for future, and check in on the financials. I love community organizing - but absolutely hate fundraising. Luckily - our community has been very generous with supporting artistic endeavors - both financially and with volunteering. Thank you!!!!!

It's a quiet Sunday morning so far. Mom has been visiting us here downeast. We've enjoyed a relaxed schedule and time to talk. Meals have been a notch above the typical food prep in our kitchen, and that has been quite enjoyable. (see pic below). Today she heads back home to central Maine - where life moves at a different pace with lots of traffic, strip malls, hordes of people, and appointments. Winter in Lubec is a whole different experience. Hopefully she heads home feeling well-rested and rejuvenated. Me, I'll snuggle into that futon for a reading and sketch session then head down into my cave to see what kind of earthly mess I can get myself into.

Link to Cobscook Pottery on Facebook - become a fan!

link to: Bouli's Fan Page on Facebook

Many years off and on as a vegetarian I have succumbed to culinary pleasures recently that include four legged, winged, and finned beings. The guilt was particularly piqued two nights ago when talking to the little lobster before she met her unfortunate demise. While I felt a certain degree of guilt before, during, and after consuming the sweet crustacean, Bouli did not exhibit one iota of remorse. Turns out she quite enjoys lobster and makes no apologies for it.

And - for you poetry buffs out there..some links about my husband's writing.....

link to Bangor Daily article
http://bangordailynews.com/2012/01/03/living/lubec-poet-wins-national-competition/

link to chapbook:
http://themedullareview.com/Chris_Crittenden_Chap.html

Lastly, a link to an interview with Chris that was recorded and archived last summer by Jane Crown's Poetry Radio. Ecellent interview. takes about 15-20 minute before the conversation gets rolling with some excellent poetically philosophical banter...it's an hour long....but well worth the listen.
http://www.janecrown.com/show_download_page.html

Behold 2012: A New Year Begins!

2011-12-31T18:54:00.001-08:00

I recently finished this low-relief "model" - which turned out to have a completely different feel from the original sketch. I am still working out the kinks for an upcoming exhibit.

Chris has been hard at work in the pottery cave adding insulation to the ceiling. My studio is in complete disarray - but soon - I will be potting and sculpting in a much warmer space! This should make our energy usage much more efficient too - which is a definite positive!!!! The studio is getting a thorough cleaning as well - which my lungs will very much appreciate. I'm focusing on a healthy work environment for 2012.

New Years Eve I began a new tapestry. I haven't done any weaving since last May when I finished my "Grass for Sarah" piece. This tapestry will have a similar feel but on a much smaller scale. Ideas have been on hold for so long. It feels good to be weaving again!

I didn't manage to stay awake long enough to see the New Year begin. When younger, I would have stayed up well past midnight with loads of energy to boot. Chris and I have traditionally enjoyed a quiet evening at home, but this year we had made plans for a guest. Her long drive was deterred by messy early-day weather and as it turned out, Chris and I celebrated alone in our own unique way. It was an opportunity for some "free" time that we had not planned on. We had been working steadily the past few days on house projects and business tax prep. Sure, there are always lots of things that need to be done, but we saw last night as a window to do something "off-list." What did we do? Chris wrote and I began a tapestry. We were so into our projects that the pre-planned salmon dinner was sidelined for a quick take-out pizza. I wove for a good six hours straight before my eyes began to get droopy. It was evident by 10:00 p.m. that I would not see the New Year in, but it was a wonderful end to 2011 - to be entranced by the magic of colorful fine spun wools. The evening was peaceful and perfectly simple.

Looking back over the past year there were many accomplishments and high points. There were challenges as well, but they, fortunately, seem a bit more blurred at this point. In 2011, I was blessed....blessed to be an artist, to study for my MFA with an incredible pod and mentors, and to work on community art. I had the fate of 25,000 honey bees in my hands, was published in a major magazine, found my protester voice again, and learned that (contrary to past belief) that I love the rituals associated with production pottery. In 2011, Bouli joined our family and brought with her a lot of love and laughter, and our extended human family grew as well. The garden was better than last year, and the ones I love are all in relatively good health. Chris has had multiple successes with his writing and has found his groove within the academic world of online ethics. Our partnership is strong, supportive, spiritual, and creatively rich. The year ended on a good note, and we have much to look forward to in 2012.

The world itself has seen major upheaval and destruction in the past months, from nuclear disaster, to corrupt politics, to the oppression of many and the earth we share. As we move forward and celebrate all that is good, it is important that we keep compassion at the forefront of decisions. Chris and I will do our part to move toward justice and healing through our art and writing, but will also savor all the gifts and blessings that we have been fortunate enough to be granted. We are sincerely grateful to all who have helped us along our path. We know that our personal happiness and success has been greatly enhanced by the kindness and generosity of others.

I have goals for 2012, but I don't make an official "resolutions" list. Most of the resolutions that people make are probably things that they would or should normally be doing on a day to day basis anyway. The passion to follow-through ebbs and flows day to day but the drive to do better, or to be a better person, are qualities that should know no calendar boundaries. This first day of 2012 will be much like any other day of my life: a few chores, time for art, good food and company. Counting my blessings.

Happy New Year to all! I hope that today is a peaceful and content segue into the next chapter of your lives, and that you embrace hope and promise for a healthy and pleasurable existence, steeped in kindness, compassion, equality, and joyfulness.

Sliding in the Holidays

2011-12-18T06:00:00.001-08:00

Interior support structure for "American Dream" sculpture.

My messy studio with a nest of tables for various projects that were in progress.

Chris at the International Gingerbread Competition....appearing very serious with his judge's clipboard.

It's a lazy Sunday morning for me. A strange feeling indeed. I have been working nonstop for the past few months whilst juggling teaching, pottery production, and MFA work. I now have a small (very small!) window of time for holiday prep and festivical (yes, I made that word up) enjoyment. MFA presentations occurred last weekend, Christmas break is upon us, and pottery production just ended for 2011 as of Friday evening. This morning I did not hurry to rise from bed and am taking refuge in a small toasty warm room, still garmented in PJ's, to write my long overdue blog posting.

The past few weeks were the big push to finish up three sculptural projects. I finally finished them last week only to realize that none of them are 100% done. Maybe it's like this most artists? Even when nearing the finish line, I think of things that I would have done differently, or an addendum that could enhance the meaning of the piece. Conceptually, these projects were forming long ago, months in advance. The hands are usually happy to take over and start forming what is only a vision in mind's eye. This was perhaps the most challenging MFA semester for me so far in that my visual kept changing throughout the project. I would feel certain at one point about a specific color or composition, only to find my hands defying the mind when picking up a brush or tool. I literally changed direction several times without consciously planning to do so. Parr for the course I suppose. But it is wild that in a course of a few minutes, despite a months'-long plan to do something a certain way, changes in a flash without preconceived notion. And, more amazingly, I felt at peace with the final result despite the lack of brooding of commitment to a decision.

So, I have three unfinished "finished" sculptures in my studio waiting for the next steps. For now though, a couple weeks of resting the mind so that I can focus on time with family and friends.

Chris and I have been enjoying holiday celebrations and traditions. We had a blast as judges for the International Gingerbread Competition. (sounds hoity toity, doesn't it?!) The annual newsletter has been typed and is making its way into cards long overdue in mailing. Friday night we watched with joy the students at school perform in "Midsummer Nights' Dream", and before I left school on Thursday afternoon, I set-up the art room for this coming Monday's Craft Day where kids will make candy cane reindeer and greeting cards. Today I continue with greeting cards (much later than usual!!!) and loading the kiln for the final pottery production of 2011. The house has been cleaned a bit deeper than usual, and soon traditional confections will be baked. A trip to the market is planned in the next couple days to purchase items for the German dish Rouladen, a most delicious recipe that I stole from childhood dinners with the Raymond family.

All is well at the Wheelock/Crittenden homestead. We are hoping for some snow but won't hold our breath. Enjoying the darkness but looking forward to Solstice with the returning light.

It is time for me to formally "wake-up", shower, open the shop, and get on with holiday prep.

I am signing off for the remainder of 2011 with a wish for everyone to enjoy a safe and joyous holiday season (Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Solstice, Christmas, New Year!!!!).

Blessings for Peace.
A short song to inspire people of all backgrounds to find common ground this holiday season.

Homage to Ai Weiwei

2011-11-27T06:23:00.001-08:00

"I realized that being an artist is more about a lifestyle and attitude than producing some product."
Ai Weiwei (Ai Weiwei Speaks, 2011, pg. 87)

PBS Documentary
"Ai Weiwei: Without Fear or Favor"

As I type this, Occupy protesters all over the U.S. are facing eviction from parks where they have set-up camp. I listen to voices on both sides of the debate about whether or not what they are doing is futile or even justified. From my own personal perspective, I am proud of the commitment that they have exhibited and the inspiration and voice that they have provided for others. Whether or not someone agrees with what the Occupy protesters are fighting for, I think that most of us can agree on one thing: that freedom of expression is critical to our survival as a society.

Imagine if you will the opposite. Rather than being able to voice discontent, that our words and ideas were squashed, and even more frightening, that we were punished, sometimes to the point of death, for speaking out against what we feel must change.

Artists and writers have for centuries taken on the role of the dissident. It isn't an easy road for these philosophical warriors. They are often scorned for their honesty and outcasted from their communities. But without these movements, change and progress does not occur for the betterment of the whole.

Where would women be today if the suffrage movement was not successful? What if the Civil Rights Movement had not occurred? What conditions would workers be exposed to without the Labor Movement? Certainly, rational, caring beings would not condone such inhumane injustices and inequalities. Born in the latter part of the 20th century, the fights that others have fought is just a story in a history book. Without living through the situation, it is sometimes difficult to empathize or fathom a time when certain rights for people did not exist.

That I am able (or allowed) to write this blog is a right that I or many others take for granted. Other than a bit of self-censorship in the name of sensitivity, I know that I may freely voice my concerns and opinions without fear of major retribution. I know that I can make a statement about the shortcomings of our government or those in power and that other than a few disgruntled readers there will be no major backlash. At this point in my life, in this country, within this venue, I feel fairly confident that no one will force me to stop speaking my view.

This was not the case for Chinese artist Ai Weiwei. A child born shortly before China's Cultural Revolution, he grew up surrounded by censorship. His father, famous poet Ai Qing, was exiled to the far reaches of the remote Gobi Desert when Weiwei was only one year old. For sixteen years, Weiwei's studies consisted only of Chairman Mao propaganda and the occasional but hidden references to art and poetry. He was discouraged to learn to read, and books were nearly non-existent after they were all burned. To be a well-read, well-informed intellectual was to put the self at risk for imprisonment or worse. To us, this is a contradictory life - to be born to an artist and an intellectual - but to not be exposed to those riches of the mind.

Weiwei left China in 1981 and moved to New York City, a place he considered to be the center of the contemporary art movement. He had already begun schooling in Bejing, but did not complete his studies. In NYC, he studied art at Parsons School of Design, originally was a painter and drawer, but soon took to sculpture and photography. He was also a master Blackjack player frequenting the casinos of Atlantic City, and surrounded himself with poets and intellectuals. In the PBS video posted above, Weiwei speaks of the 1988 riots in Tompkins Square where liberals, artists, poets, musicians, homeless, and poor people congregated. Upon trying to impose a curfew for the park, a movement against government and police brutality commenced. Weiwei documented the event through photography and found inspiration in the uprising of the people, perhaps offering a glimmer of hope for his own oppressed home country.

Weiwei returned to Bejing in 1993. From 1994-1997, he worked on a series of three books called The Black Book, The White Book, and The Gray Book. The Black Book was purely written words by artists. He was concerned with ideas and concepts more so than actual visual images. The following books included images that were provocative in post-Cultural Revolution China. The books were picked up by a publisher in Hong Kong and considered to be illegal and "underground". This was perhaps the beginning of Weiwei discovering the power of his own voice within the oppression of his home country. Although China proclaimed to be a different place than it was in years previous, freedom of expression still did not, in Weiwei's eyes, exist.

In 2006, Weiwei was pretty much forced to begin a blog as China worked to improve its reputation, to prove that it was a more open and free society. Weiwei was nervous at first being that he did not consider himself a good writer. But soon he found this venue as his greatest form of self-expression. He wrote freely about government, culture, politics, art, and the human and social condition.

"The techniques of the Internet have become a major way of liberating humans from old values and systems, something that has never been possible until today"
Ai Weiwei (Ai Weiwei Speaks, 2011, pg. 6)

This new found freedom was of utmost importance and provided immense satisfaction. Weiwei contemplated whether or not he would someday be able to give up everything else and only write blogs. He posted sometimes as many as 100 photos a day, and when his blog was shut-down by the government in 2009, he had written over 200 entries and accrued millions of readers.

The entries preceding the shut-down of his blog pertained to the 2008 Sichuan earthquake where several school buildings had collapsed killing thousands of students. Ironically, many of the surrounding buildings remained standing, eluding to shoddy construction of the educational structures. Weiwei accused that the government was shirking its responsibility and his political blog entries roused feathers of government officials. They did their best to silence him.

His sculptural and architectural works are steeped in political innuendo - an outcry against injustice. Influenced by the artist Marcel Duchamp and compared to German artist Joseph Beuys, Weiwei uses everyday objects that already carry with them personal familiarity to a wide population, and reconfigures or destroys them to make his statement. For instance, In reference to the Sichuan earthquake, Weiwei collected nine thousand children's backpacks to create an installation that spelled out the words of a grieving mother "She lived happily in this world for seven years." In other artworks, "Dropping the Urn" and "Colored Vases", Weiwei drops or dips in paint historical ceramic artifacts. To many, the act is a jaw-dropper, witnessing the destruction of something that is to the greater population considered highly valuable. Weiwei challenges our perception of value and how and why we make such judgments.

Weiwei's artistic popularity and esteem has earned him several awards and placement in various countries' biennials. Within his own home country of China, he was solicited to design the 2008 Summer Olympic stadium known as the "Bird's Nest". Later, Weiwei spoke out against the Olympic event and stated that the Chinese government used the event as propaganda to try to be seen in a positive light to the rest of the world, when in fact, it is a highly oppressive country where freedom of speech still does not exist. He refused to have photos of himself taken with the stadium.

The stadium is only one of many architectural projects by Ai Weiwei. His first inspiration was a book that he found in New York bookstore about a house that the philosopher Wittgenstein had built for his sister. He was taken with the intricate details of the structure and returned home determined to build a studio home for himself.

Weiwei discovered eventually that his artistic projects would require the hands of many. He had concepts but not enough time to see the ideas to fruition by himself. He once organized 100 architects to collaborate. Another time, for the Kassel, Germany biennial Documenta 12, he conceived and facilitated 1,001 Chinese tourists to visit the exhibit, providing them clothing, lodging, housing, and sightseeing opportunities in what he calls "Fairytale."

Perhaps one of his most widely recognized and recent works was at Tate Modern in London in 2010, titled "Sunflower Seeds."

Video of Ai Weiwei's Sunflower Seed project

In Sunflower Seeds, Weiwei solicited the help of 1,600 Jingdezhen residents to cast and paint 100 million porcelain sunflower seeds. Jingdezhen was once a bustling porcelain factory town but no longer exists as such with many out of work. Over the course of two years, the sunflower seeds were created and then installed at Tate Modern. The symbolism of the sunflower seeds is directly related to the Cultural Revolution and Chairman Mao, who saw himself as the sun and his followers as the sunflowers. But there is also a dual meaning. For Weiwei, sunflower seeds were shared and eaten amongst people - a symbol of nourishment, friendship and nostalgia.

The sunflower project is particularly interesting to me. On one level, I connect with it because I am a potter. I know the process and I can easily imagine the painstaking work involved to make so many intricate items. Interest was also piqued because of the number 1,600. Here in Lubec, that is our approximate summer population. I imagined the whole of our town being involved with one single project, one single goal. That led me to thoughts about the once thriving canning factory industry that employed so many people here, and the huge negative economic impact it had on the families when the factories closed. I understand that it was not just a loss of money, but also a loss of personal identity.

Weiwei's work moves me. Critics lean mostly in favor of his work, commending him for not only exquisite details and craftsmanship, but also for his social/political statements. These commendations come, perhaps, more so from critics outside China. Within China, there seems to be those who disdain his vocalizations and consider him more of a showman, or in some cases, a threat. I view it as an artist using his gifts to grab the attention of viewers so that he may educate and inspire. Would I ever go to such lengths? My own artwork is often political, but I have not given in, not yet anyway, to the idea of spending time in jail or putting my life on the line for my values. That's not to say that I have not contemplated civil disobedience, but for now, I prefer to do my work from outside a jail cell. I do, however, have the utmost respect and admiration for Weiwei's perseverance and passion. Having thought about my own role as an artist, the following quote resonated with me:

"If artists betray the social conscience and the basic principles of being human, where does art stand then?
Ai Weiwei (Ai Weiwei Speaks, 2011, pg. 27)

Weiwei's discontent with the Chinese government has landed him in a quite precarious position. He has been beaten by police to the point of suffering a cerebral hemorrhage. His studio in Bejing was demolished by the government citing that he did not have proper permission to build. He was recently (April 2011) detained by authorities and held for two months without an official charge. When later released, it was announced that he owes nearly two million dollars in back taxes and fines, all of which Weiwei denies.

What draws me most to Weiwei is his smile. I think of all these obstacles that he faced and still faces, obstacles which would kill the spirit of most human beings, offering nothing more than a sense of defeat. Yet, I see interviews and photos of him...smiling.

There is a flood of articles and videos out there. He is an addictive sort to study, myself spending many hours perusing the Internet for anything Weiwei. I recommend starting with a google image search. Begin with the powerful images then move onto the reading. I thoroughly enjoyed the quick read "Ai Weiwei Speaks: with Hans Ulrich Obrist" (Penguin Books, 2011). The book was captivating for me because it was in Weiwei's own voice. Next on my list, the translated blogs. The PBS video "Ai Weiwei: Without Fear or Favor" is definitely worth a watch.

I leave you with one last quote - and perhaps a hope that you will think about the Occupy Movement here in our own country - not merely as a group of people whining about their conditions, but as a movement that by the very nature of being vocal is helping to protect all our rights and freedoms associated with personal expression.

"A nation that will not search for its own past and not be critical of it is a shameless nation."
Ai Weiwei (Ai Weiwei Speaks, 2011, pg. 14)

Pottery, Poetry, and Amazing Feats in the Realm of packing

2011-11-15T15:23:00.001-08:00

Cobscook Pottery & Fiber Arts
Annual Holiday Sale
November 18-20, 2011
Friday 3-7PM, Saturday 10AM-5PM, Sunday Noon-4PM
North Lubec Road, Lubec, ME
Pottery, Weaving, Fine Art, and Jewelry

My Cobscook Pottery wares on display at the United Maine Craftsmen showing at the Augusta Civic Center last weekend.

Honda should hire me for a product testimonial. This was the first loading before I cut the boards for better mirror visibility. You should have seen the car AFTER I loaded ALL the boxes and my luggage!!!! Seriously, you sure can fit an awful lot into a teeny little Honda Fit!

Bouli...unknowingly sporting cream on her nose after sneaking into my plate on the counter and assuming I wouldn't find out!

Congratulations to my husband, Chris, on his recent poetry chapbook release!
Click link below to order "Rebellion"
http://themedullareview.com/Chris_Crittenden_Chap.html

I returned last night from four days in central Maine. I just gave my hand at vending the United Maine Craftsmen show at the Augusta Civic Center. This past summer at the Blueberry Festival and this past weekend in Augusta marked my return to vending after nearly ten years. Those who peddle their wares at festivals and other venues know what I mean when I say that it is hard work! Not only did massive quantities of hours go in to creating the work, but the packing, driving, setting-up, and breaking-down consumed enormous amounts of energy and time as well. That being said, I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Vending in Augusta returned me to my old stomping grounds and I was able to reconnect with folks that I had not seen in quite some time. Friends from near and far visited me at my booth and family sauntered in and out throughout the weekend. I was grateful for my sister's help with set-up on Friday night and during the first day of vending. Mom stopped by to watch the booth so I could have breaks, and my dad (poor guy!) agreed to help me load the display unit in the car on Sunday night...only to discover that he had been wrangled into carrying numerous heavy boxes and objects out to the vehicles.

Spending time with other potters while at the show was wonderful. I love how eagerly everyone shares their knowledge and expertise. Potters tend to have a peaceful and caring aura (at least the ones I know!) and I feel so honored to be part of their "circle". I do hope that our paths continue to cross over the years.

I returned last night good season and Chris unpacked the boxes into the shop. Bouli poked around the barn a bit while I rearranged the displays and began preparation for this coming weekend's annual holiday sale. The rest of this week (when not teaching) I will be consumed with preparations but do so happily. I always enjoy this weekend when many of my Lubec friends stop by. The spirits are joyful.

After this weekend's sale, I will disperse wares to a couple shops then perhaps load a few items onto Etsy. I hope to have an official website in the not too distant future, but for now, while I am running ragged while juggling a myriad of commitments, I will make do with the resources at hand.

This is a short blog this week as the hours are few and the to-do list is long. I need a good night's sleep to recoup my energy for the days ahead. Meanwhile, enjoying this beautiful unseasonably warm weather and sharing in Chris' celebration of his recent poetry release. Congrats Chris!!! You've worked hard and deserve it! Order his recent release at:

http://themedullareview.com/Chris_Crittenden_Chap.html

And....if you're in Lubec this coming weekend - be sure to stop by for our annual holiday sale! Hope to see you!

Friends, Celebrations, and Pottery Galore!

2011-11-05T04:07:00.001-07:00

From kiln to shelf, pottery is piling up....back-to-back glaze firings are in progress in prep for next weekend's United Maine Craftsmen show at the Augusta Civic Center
Nov. 12-13 (Saturday 9-5, Sunday 10-4)
Hope to see you there!

Current sculpture in progress.
This is the interior support structure which is so beautiful on its own....It was hard to cover up all that detailed architectural work that will never even be seen on the finished piece!!!!

Reunited with my friend Donna after not seeing her for over twenty years!
Can you tell that it was VERY COLD outside? This photo was taken in Portland just a few hours before last weekend's snowy October nor'easter hit.

United Maine Craftsmen Show
Augusta Civic Center
Augusta, Maine
November 12-13
(Saturday 9:00-5:00, and Sunday 10:00-4:00)
Admission $2 at the door.
Look for my Cobscook Pottery booth!
Honey Pots, Tankards, Tumblers & Mugs, Pasta & Boulibase Bowls, Rice and Tea Bowls, Noodle Bowls, Sake Sets, Vases, and more!

I am enjoying this moment of peace. It seems somewhat indulgent to sit still for a bit to upload photos and blog. As I type, the kiln is firing its fourth load of pottery in less than two weeks. That schedule seems a bit relaxed compared to what is upcoming; six more attempted glaze firings in the next week and a half. A cycle from firing to cooling and cracking the lid is about thirty hours and rest-assured (or rather, UN-rest-assured) there will be more late nights and 3:00 a.m. kiln duties. Two nights ago Chris jumped-in and took over the firing duties come 12:30 a.m. He suggested I try to sleep (it was well past my bedtime) and he in turn watched for the cone to drop. It finally did, but not to well near 3:00 a.m. Work days have been extreme with the typical being twelve to fourteen hours of near nonstop work. On the days I go to school to teach, I return home to change into my messy work duds and head into the pottery cave. I work until usually 8:00 or 9:00 at night, then grab a quick dinner and go to bed, only to wake the next day and do it all again. it's a good thing that I love what I do!!!

This insane schedule is not totally un-typical, but even for me, it has been a long and extreme schedule. I am trying my hand at vending the Augusta Civic Center united Maine Craftsmen show (coming up next weekend!) and then the next weekend is my annual holiday sale here at Cobscook Pottery in Lubec. Two back-to-back events has me stocking more work than usual in a small time frame. Most everything else has been put on hold, especially the past two weeks, while I did that last burst of wheel work, then a mega-glazing marathon. I am so filled with glee that last night about 10:00 p.m. I put away the glazes and cleaned up the tables. For the next few days I will stay focused on loading and unloading, watching temps and cones, and prep for the Augusta excursion, which includes finalizing the display materials. Today is planned for all that busy-type work and tomorrow and Monday I resume work on a sculpture project that I began about ten days ago - even though I was in the midst of mega-vending- pottery production.

Actually, looking back over the past week and a half, I realize that I even slipped in time for some fun. Everything was on-the-fly but you know what they say "all work and no play.....". In fact, in the midst of this insane work schedule, we were treated to a beautiful dinner at the house of friends, traveled to central Maine to see my father for his birthday, hopped on down to Portland for about four hours to see a friend visiting from London, picked-up clay from Portland pottery while there, and even scooted on over to another friend's house to see her studio. Yesterday, I even took time off for a couple hours to visit with friends for tea.

Seeing Donna after over twenty years was fabulous! We first met in (I think!!!!) 1988 in an acting class at University of Southern Maine. Donna was an exchange student from Ireland and we became fast friends. Thanks to the wonderful information super highway (a.k.a. internet and more specifically facebook) we have been able to keep in touch in recent years. Donna returned to visit with her former host family and it just happened that I was going to be only an hour from Portland while visiting family in central Maine. We managed an overlap in schedules that allowed us to hang out for about three hours in the Old Port. After a lunch of Maine "chowdah" we sauntered into Heron Point Gallery on Market Street. What a gorgeous space and beautiful work!!!! One of my pod-mates from the MFA program at Heartwood owns the gallery. So, I even got to see Bonnie during this little excursion! After Donna hooked back up with her host family to prepare fro her flight back to Europe, I called my friend Becky and spur of the moment drove over to her home and got to see the gorgeous new pottery plates that she has been making in her studio. The visit was far too short, but so glad that I was able to do it. I got back to West Gardiner just in time for my dad's birthday supper - and only a few hours before the snowstorm began.

What's up with that anyway? Snow before Halloween? And I'm not talking a dusting: it really kicked up with wild winds and big flakes that blanketed the ground to the tune of about six inches by morning. Needless to say, this delayed our travel back to Lubec by a few hours. By noon, we hit the road and travel went smoothly, even with our kitten Bouli (a not-so-little 9-pounder!!!) who took turns at slumbering in our laps for the long return home. We had no snow in our yard in Lubec, but things sure looked dark when we pulled up the drive. Apparently power had been out for several hours. We spent the rest of our evening removing food from the fridge and placing it in a freezer and cooler with ice blocks. Ironically, we had just bought a week's worth of groceries on the way home. The house was extremely cold so we heated stones on the stove which were later placed in the bed for warmth. I slept well toasty warm.

This concludes my morning of blogging leisure. I am going to hit the shower, grab some breakfast, and begin the list of the things I must finish today in order to be ready for the Augusta show. I have a feeling the list is longer than the hours that I have allotted!!!!

It's turn back the clock time tonight - I think?! This means extremely early darkness (maybe 4:30 p.m.????) I LOVE it!

Cobscook Pottery & Fiber Arts
Annual Holiday Sale
Lubec, Maine
November 18-20, 2011
Friday 3:00-7:00, Saturday 10:00-5:00, Sunday Noon-4:00

Honey Pots (and Lubec Bee Honey!!!), Tankards, Tumblers & Mugs, Pasta & Boulibase Bowls, Rice and Tea Bowls, Noodle Bowls, Sake Sets, Vases, Soap, Weaving, and Jewelry by The Indigo Iris.
Beautiful packaging ready for gifting!

If more info is needed, email me at luna_spirit@yahoo.com

Potting Frenzy for UMC prep

2011-10-23T04:43:00.000-07:00

Come check out my latest pottery this November!

United Maine Craftsmen Show
at the Augusta Civic Center
November 12-13, 2011
(Link to show info)
click on the Augusta Show "details" for more info.

Cobscook Pottery & Fiber Arts Annual Holiday Sale
November 18-20, 2011
Lubec, Maine
pottery, sculpture, weaving, jewelry
(Fri. 3:00-7:00, Sat. 10:00-5:00, Sun. 12:00-4:00)
Refreshments, holiday cheer, raffle, ready-to-gift packaging!

Serving bowls, honey pots, and rice bowls waiting to be bisque fired.

A hodge podge of bisqueware awaiting glaze.
(sake bottles, rice bowls, tea bowls, tumblers)

Bello, our beautiful 14-pound feline elder.

We long for these moments...sweet, soft, purring, napping Bouli. This is NOT how we usually see her, though!!!! Quiet moments are rare. She is usually 100% feisty-ness..... tearing up the house, breaking things, and tormenting Bello!

No Bouli, you are not being knighted by King Bello.
He is merely reminding you who is really in charge in this house.

Furry pantaloon-clad Bouli chases-down Bello and presents to him her best sumo-wrestling moves.

Bouli walking across greenware platters, moving toward the newly thrown fragile wet vases.....
Nothing is safe in the pottery cave when she is around!

It has been about five weeks of potting frenzy in prep for the United Maine Craftsmen show. Lest a few mug handles and trimming of three vases/lids, I have completed the heavy-duty chore of hours-on-end of wet work. Against all seasoned-potter advice, I worked at the wheel for ten hour stretches to meet goal. My list of "to-do" was much longer but yesterday I finally had to throw in the towel and tell myself that I need to step back from the production work and move the focus more fully into my sculpture. The next three weeks will still be full of mega amounts of glazing and a firing schedule like no other in the past with three more bisque loads and up to eight glaze fires. The glazing, though tedious, is not as physical as the potting and is less brain-work. I will be able to walk away from the glazing table for long stretches and not worry about losing a piece. When creating the wet work, I need to adhere to the clay's drying schedule: add a handle or trim at just-the-right-time. The forming part of the process is picky and certain steps must be completed at precise moments or else the piece is lost.

All this pottery is not only for the United Maine Craftsmen show in Augusta, but also for my annual open-studio holiday sale here in Lubec. I normally hold that sale the weekend of veteran's day, but due to the UMC show in Augusta, I bumped it back a week to November 18-20. That's two major back-to-back selling events that I need adequate inventory for.

Between teaching, my MFA work, and the pottery production, I have not had spare time. The work schedule begins upon waking and ends when supper and bedtime are near. When I get home from my teaching job at school, I change into pottery duds and head into the "cave".

Pottery is one of those jobs that does not fall within an eight hour day or 5-day a week work schedule. When relied upon as an income, it's serious business. The schedule ebbs and flows with the seasons. Spring is for summer prep, then summer is extremely hectic with tourist season, and autumn is busy with holiday sales prep. The "down-time", if such a thing exists, is January and February.

I sometimes think people have a hard time understanding that pottery is work, and rather, think of what I do as more of a hobby. There is this stereotype romantic version of potters who are back-to-the-earth hippies playing with mud in a very relaxed nonchalant sort of manner. My studio time is not that image. It is a job for me, and though I love that I am able to work with my hands with a material that I connect so fully with, there are parts of the process that I wouldn't mind skipping. I don't like reclaiming clay and wedging, nor do I enjoy glazing, cleaning the studio, or making mug handles. I DO LOVE throwing at the wheel, handbuilding, carving, and trimming. But add to my "dislike list" dealing with taxes, insurance, supply orders, and anything related to paperwork. I am a one-woman-business playing all the roles: designer, fabricator, marketer, bookkeeper, delivery person, maintenance, inventory, and janitorial specialist.

All said and done, I am so grateful that pottery is a skill that I have. I am able to do something that is such a part of my heart and soul and share it with others. I can think of no better job than one that is built around my passion and slightly neurotic obsession with clay.

I think back often to when I first started blogging. I made the statement that I would never be a production potter. Such irony that I am now doing that on a small-scale level. I didn't think that I would enjoy production work, but I am discovering that I really do enjoy it. There is this satisfaction that I feel when I see multiples of an item lining the shelves. I watched a squirrel storing nuts a while back and thought that I am like that squirrel. I feel a sense of safety, and accomplishment, when I see that there are plenty of bowls or mini vases. I am like the bear, too, preparing in advance for my winter hibernation. There is lots to be done before the snow flies!

There is not much else to report. I have been nose to the grindstone with deadlines all around me and it is crucial, for the moment, that I remain focused. I am still feeling my way around being a part-time teacher and relying more heavily on my job as a potter. MFA semester is in full swing and I need to be ready for end-of-semester presentations in December and must also keep focused on that. Everything that I am doing now lays the groundwork for where I will be down the road on this incredible life journey. It is a head-spinning time with all the multi-tasking, but it is all meaningful.

On the homefront, it is cat-mania. Bello had a rough spell a while back. He seemed to be severely depressed, losing weight, showing some physical symptoms of unhealthiness. He was hissing and growling at me and seeming despondent. Bouli's presence has turned his world upside down. Until her arrival, he had all of my attention. I have started spending special alone-time with him most nights in his "safe-space" out of Bouli's reach. Bello is starting to return to his old self again and is starting to stand up for himself more. Bouli likes to chase him and tries to play, but he usually wants nothing to do with her. He is starting to jump in my lap again, cow Bouli down off the bed once in a while, and in general is trying to reclaim his time as King Kitty. Until recently, he would run away from Bouli growling and begging to be let outside. The past couple weeks, though, he stands his ground, growls at her, and she most times will walk away after a few attempts to pounce at him. I am still holding out for them to be best pals at some point.

Sunny Sunday - and I am heading down into the dark cave. I have eight tankard handles to attach, and three vases to trim with adorned lids. After that- I switch into cognitive mode and work up sketches for a new sculpture. I have been seeing images in minds-eye that intrigue me though I haven't been able to put concept with them beyond the form that is calling to me. Will see what happenes. Sometimes I just need to jump in and create....and do the figuring-out later on.

Art-filled weekend in Kennebunk

2011-10-10T15:03:00.001-07:00

Painter Richard Brown Lethem in his studio.

Richard Brown Lethem painting a portrait of Roberta Cantlon during Lubec Arts Alive, 2009

Photo copyright: Goodman/Van Riper Photography

Bruce Iverson demonstrates painting an "Enso" during our
weekend seminar at Heartwood College of Art
Hmmmm...It looked so easy when he did it!

I practiced and practiced the "Enso"....
never thought I would have such a difficult time trying to paint a circle!!!!

When the workshop ended, I had a whole pile of attempted sumi painting.

Heartwood College of Art's (Amazing!) MFA Pioneer pod.
Megan, Shanna, Stephanie, Carol, Sherry, and Bonnie
Photo by Stephanie Lind

I just returned from a few days out of town that were filled with amazing people and art. I am now into my fourth semester of the part-time, low rez MFA program at Heartwood College of Art and this past weekend was our seminar. We only get on campus as a whole "pod" once a semester. That time, though short, is brimming with philosophical conversation, constructive critiques, book discussions, and concentrated immersion in an art form. The days are long but always meaningful.

The drive to Kennebunk is a good six hours from Lubec. I try to make the most of my time by squeezing in quick visits with family and there is usually a long list of errands to run as well for items that are not normally attainable in our neck of the woods. With my new teaching schedule this year, I was able to take a more leisurely pace, which meant that I could to slip-in a one hour (not long enough!) visit to Richard Brown Lethem's studio before the commencement of residency on Friday.

Brown lives less than a half hour from campus, so the logistics were perfect. I had never been to his studio before but had been wanting to for the past three years. I first Met him when he came to Lubec in 2009 as a representative UMVA artist who took residence here for our first ever Lubec Arts Alive event. I had seen what Brown could do in the way of portraiture and had peered at his work online, but I had no idea how prolific an artist he is until I saw his studio firsthand. He toured me through a large barn with rooms divided throughout. Each room was stacked with more than fifty years of paintings catalogued by date. The size of each canvas was not diminished by the vast space of the two-floor building. Instead, they fit just perfectly on the large open walls in the main bay. The side areas, perhaps once stalls, were walled-off for stacked painting storage and a smaller gallery-type room. A second, smaller barn houses Lethem's carpentry workshop where he makes his own frames and an upstairs large and brightly colored painting studio. It was an honor to see his recent work in progress, and to hear first-hand telling that he is focused primarily on beginning with a color field then superimposing the images that reveal the stories. Lethem's hues are bold and the strokes highly expressionistic. Faces are distorted and animals show up in dream-like scenes. It's sort of like Chagall meets Dali meets De Kooning, but with lots of layers and texture.

I hope that over the course of my life as an artist that I will be so blessed to be at least half as productive and passionate as Lethem. It was a real privilege for me to be able to view his work in his personal studio with him as the tour guide. Thanks, Brown!

Arrival at Heartwood began with laughter and potluck as our pod reunited for the first time since last March. We have a new pod-mate who is just starting her first semester and happily she is a perfect fit. Friday night is when we begin the critiques of current projects. Our pod is diverse in a few ways but that diversity brings richness to our experiences. Our ages span many years and we travel from Maine, Pennsylvania, and Massachusetts. Our specialty areas vary from graphic arts/printmaking, to glasswork, ceramics, metals, and fiber arts. We are teachers, travelers, gallery owners, and museum workers. We have lived interesting lives with interesting stories and each individual person in our group brings something unique to the whole.

Saturday was an intense, full day of immersion in Chinese calligraphy and sumi brush painting. our instructor made it look so simple, but as soon as I made my first mark I realized the high degree of technical ability and centering required to make something appear so simple and elegant when in truth it is very difficult to achieve that appearance. In Chinese calligraphy and sumi brush painting, there are many "rules" such as the direction a line takes, the amount of pressure the brush meets the paper with, and even the way a brush is to be held in the hand. I think the awkward positioning of the brush really threw me off. After eight hours of making symbols, circles (enso) and bamboo, I was fairly certain that I would not be adding "sumi" to my list of artistic conquerings. I will leave that to the masters. However, I will admit, that the next day the paintings started to look better to me. But any sumi expert would clearly notice that my "deer horns" need much work, and the bamboo stalks and leaves for that matter, too. Bruce was a wonderful teacher and exuded much patience. Our group can be a wee bit feisty at times, but he managed us just fine.

Sunday is the last day of residency and is notorious for the super-duper thinking round table: hours of mind-expanding criticism and discussion. It's the "heaviest" part of the weekend and often stirs emotions as we discuss topics relevant to the art world and make the connections that we as artists have. I always leave those discussion with a full mind and the drive back to Lubec gives me time to filter through it all.

I am so glad that I chose the Heartwood program for my MFA. It is a great fit for my personality and work ethic and because it is part-time I am able to continue my work as a teacher. Because the program is low-residency, I am able to do my studies while living six hours from campus. I may only be in my fourth semester, but have already felt how I have grown as an artist and human being. I have been blessed with excellent mentors in the program and the teaching style is very much in line with my own teaching philosophy and personal ethics. Thanks, Berri and Susan, for creating such an amazing program! I know that the new "Surface Design" program beginning next fall will be amazing too - wish that I could go back and do undergrad studies again just to experience that!

Sunday night I was able to stay in central Maine with my parents and spent some time catching-up. It had been almost two months since I saw my family, far too long, and we were able to spend an evening talking over dinner. Next morning I was up at 4:15 a.m. with my mind already in full tilt about what projects I would like to do when returning back to the studio. I hit the road early and made it home to Lubec before dark, where I found two very bent-out-of-shape cats because I had been away so long. Chris seemed chipper and fine, but Bouli and Bello sure let me know about their disgruntlement.

Do Artists Always Wear Black?

2011-10-01T17:36:00.000-07:00

Incendiary
Shanna Wheelock, 2011
Ceramic, light, metal
Photo by Leslie Bowman

Hammond Hall, Schoodic Arts For All
Winter Harbor, Maine

Abby Shahn's "Save the World" globe.
Thanks, Abby! You did a great job organizing the "Worlds Seen and Foreseen" show in downtown Skowhegan!!!

Portrait of me.... Photo by Leslie Bowman

Do artists always wear black? I guess that's a silly question. But as I was preparing yesterday morning to head out, sporting black shoes and a long-sleeved (very cool, I might add, Liberty Graphics) black Tee, I "asked" Chris, should I wear my black or purple polartec? I was already slipping the black one over my arms when Chris responded "artists always wear black." He said that when he taught at University of Tennessee that the art department was a sea of black fabric. I remember back to my own undergrad days as a fine arts student at USM. Indeed, my closet was filled with the color void. But for every black item, I owned an opposite, brightly-colored garment. Maybe tie-dyed, maybe bright orange, some sort of funky wild concoction of hues and patterns always took residence on a neighboring hanger.

It is a stereotype that artists are brooding, dark souls who walk around in goth fashion. So yes, yesterday I wore a lot of black, but, black goes with anything! Yesterday it just happened to match perfectly the dark, rainy morning, and yes, I had been in a quieter, more introspective mood this past week while trying to overcome rather than succumb to that change-of-season chest cold. I just happened to need a long-sleeved, relatively warm shirt to wear with jeans. It did have a moon on the design which seemed fitting since I was delivering a sculpture for an exhibit about light. But my interior mood was anything but brooding. If anything, the rainy day lifted my spirits. I love the rain. A mellow ambiance makes perfect for working in the studio.

Rather than brooding souls, artists should be known to be deep and introspective. Most people have a range of emotions that run the gamut from "skippy-dippy gleefully happy" to the "best-not-to-talk-to-me-now-funk". Artists are amongst the most intelligent and caring beings that I have ever met and rather than seeing the world as a depressing pit of near non-existence, they see truth, which sometimes is ugly, and because of that channel a sense of hope to create a better reality. Sometimes the world we live in sparks pain, but art is cathartic and artists have at their disposal great means to work through the pain. I sort of see me as an example of that. For those who know me personally, they know that I am a generally optimistic person who wears a smile. Yet, my sculptural images are sometimes pain and despair-filled. I have come to the conclusion that it is because I am a person that believes we can AND SHOULD work toward a peaceful existence - one that is gentle, caring, loving - that my work exemplifies a more painful and destructive force that I feel needs to be recognized and abolished.

So yesterday, I did wear black, and yesterday, I was in an upbeat optimistic mood: the best I had experienced all week. Chris and I started our day early for a two-hour drive to Winter Harbor. We were delivering my Incendiary sculpture to Hammond Hall, a performing arts center under the direction of Schoodic Arts for All. The show features illuminated artworks that will adorn the space with light as days grow darker heading toward winter. It was a joyful morning visiting with other artists. John McMurray was there, the artist who worked with us this past summer on the Lubec Arts Alive kinetic herring. I also got to meet Mary and Jane who were overseeing the delivery of work. I loved their energy! After the delivery, Chris and I stopped off in Machias for a quick lunch, then it was on to a hardware store for me to pick out some lumber for the sculpture that I am currently working on. I will reveal details of this new piece later on, once it is nearer to completion. Right now it is a hodge-podge of components that make little sense and even to me are mind-boggling. I am looking forward to creating the base structure this weekend so that I can begin to make sense of it all.

I haven't blogged in two weeks. I have been trying to keep up with the demands of a heavily-divided life. I thought that teaching half-time this year would open up all sorts of extra time, which I guess essentially it did, but that time has been quickly filled with more work. I am busy with pottery production for upcoming fall and holiday sales and continue my work in the MFA program at Heartwood College of Art. Slip in a bit of salsa-making, veterinary appointments, pottery deliveries, broken kitchen appliances, everyday household duties, jury duty letters and a "quick" fourteen-hour run to Skowhegan (where artists who were protesting war were very brightly dressed!). All this was on top of a week of Chris being sick then me unfortunately following right behind him. There hasn't been a whole lot of down time. I even somehow fit in the role of interviewee on Geno's Washington County TV, discussing the arts scene in Lubec, which was an interesting event for sure! (Sorry, I forgot to ask when it will air. When I know, I will let you know.)

Chris has been super busy as well, teaching women's studies this semester for UMM and dividing his writing time between the novel and his poetry. Whale Sound (see link below) just posted his poem "Gods Reflect on Creation." It is an audio file read by Nic Sebastian. She does a great job with it! Check it out!

Gods Reflect on Creation, audio file (click here)

Without further adieu, I think I will mosey on downstairs, greet Bello and Bouli, shower, trim pots, then continue work on the sculpture. An hour ago when I looked out the window, day breaking, it appeared to be a bit overcast. I am hoping for another long day of dark and stormy to keep me in this awesome, focused non-brooding mood.

and...keeping with the theme of wearing black...here is some music to help start your day.

Glaze Tests, Studio Tours, and Phishing

2011-09-19T03:56:00.000-07:00

New set of short Tumblers in a Mossy Forest glaze.

Bouli-quake strikes Lubec....
I rarely am able to set-up the factory piece in my studio since Bouli assumes that everything in her sight is a toy for her. I only left the sculpture unattended for less than a minute - returned to find the paper dolls all a muss.

Chris spooning blanched green beans into pint-size canning jars.

Green beans placed in the canning pot.

What a week. First off, according to a phishing scam email, I was stranded in Spain after having my purse stolen and needed friends to send me money. My email address contact list was hacked-into and "stolen" rendering me unable to email everyone to let them know that this just was not so. I am hoping that everyone who received the email knows that such letters written in a stilted voice asking for money to be wired to far off places is bogus. Chris and I fielded well over a hundred emails and more than a dozen phone calls from friends and family. We appreciated the concern and hope that it never happens again. This is a lesson that even those who think they are wise to such schemes that it can happen to anyone. The internet opens doors for all kinds of trickery.

The Spain scam was a blip in an otherwise tightly orchestrated schedule. In preparation for this past weekend's art studio tour, several kiln firings were planned, as well as cleaning, arranging, tagging and deliveries. The Two Countries One Bay Art Studio Tour is always a joy for me. More-than-usual folks saunter through my space. On a typical day when the shop is open, visitors rarely get to peek at my private studio space. On tour day, however, sculptures are set-out and the space is a bit more "organized". This was an especially fun tour year, having met some incredibly unique and fun people: hippie potters, Harley bikers, cat enthusiasts, cross-country travelers, and weavers. Perhaps the most interesting "act" was the young couple who are circus performers. It isn't often that you ask someone about their job and they reply "trapeze artist". Anyway - I appreciate all the people who took the time to visit my little space in this far-off nook at the edge of the country. It truly was a joy!

I felt like a milestone had been reached this past week, too. After a couple months of kiln woes, two glaze test fires were completed and all seems to be back on the right track again. (knock on wood!) Colors are more gorgeous than ever and hopefully consistency will be the norm. I tried out new glaze motifs and after a bit of experimentation I found some keepers. The shop has been re-stocked and now the pottery goal has been set to prepare for the next event which is vending a big craft show November 11-12 at the Augusta Civic Center, followed the next weekend by my annual holiday pottery sale here in Lubec. I am really looking forward to the Augusta showing and seeing some familiar faces from my old stomping grounds. There is lots of work to be done before then and it is crucial that I keep focused on the goals since I am juggling not only my newly enhanced role as potter but also my teaching and my MFA coursework.

With the start of the new semester in the Heartwood College of Art MFA program, I began a new sculpture last week, and after this blog post, will return to working on it. The idea is full of complexities and I keep reminding myself to narrow down the visuals to only what is essential. The thinking time on this piece has far outweighed the physical work thus far, but it seems now that the "goal" is more solid that the actual studio time will be more efficient. This piece has become additionally interesting for me since I made the realization that the symbolisms I chose are a reflection of something much more personal and close-to-home than the original surface idea. The creative process is an interesting one - especially when the subconscious or intuitive self starts to take over. I will post pics of the piece on this blog as the work progresses and expect completion of this first phase of the project to be in December.

We have been enjoying the garden's bounty. It is an unruly patch of vegetation but seems to be producing some things in quantity enough to elicit canning. Last weekend we canned fresh pasta sauce, and yesterday we canned the green beans. Today I hope to find time to begin a batch of salsa, and late this week Chris will make the last huge batch of pesto for freezing. Apple sauce prep begins next week, too. With recent frost warnings, I have plucked as many goodies as possible from the garden. I think here on the coast we have skirted what other parts of Maine have endured in the way of extreme cold night temps. With only a couple days until Mabon, summer is saying her goodbyes. I am still hoping for gorgeous warm days as we head toward Autumn, but secretly (or not so anymore!) look forward to the first snow and early dark.

It is time to tend to the cats' morning feed and to get the studio prepped for a day's work. I will open the shop soon but expect much less fanfare than the last two days previous. The quiet will be good for thinking time.

I hope everyone enjoys a beautiful first-days-of-autumn week!

2011-09-17T05:02:00.000-07:00

Two Countries One Bay Art Studio Tour
September 17-18
10:00 a.m. - 5:00 p.m.

Seafoam Tumblers
$15 each
Available at Cobscook Pottery and Fiber Arts

Lubec, Maine

It's tour weekend again! I hope to see some familiar and some new faces this year. If you have never been on the tour - now is the time!

Don't miss this chance to catch a glimpse of working artist studios from St. Andrews, Canada down through Campobello Island and Deer Island, Canada, including the towns along Passaquamoddy Bay: St. Stephen, Calais, Robinston, Eastport, Whiting, Trescott, and Lubec.

http://www.twocountriesart.com/

I am NOT in Spain....

2011-09-13T17:51:00.000-07:00

Though I imagine it would be a fabulous trip! If you received an email from me saying that I am in Spain and need money - know that it is a SPAM/Scam email.

I am still in Lubec - happily hrowing pots, firing the kiln, and working on a new sculpture.

Thanks for the concern.

Peace-
Shanna

NORTH(east)ERN EXPOSURE

2011-09-11T02:08:00.000-07:00

Pots glazed and ready for firing.

Half ton of clay delivered on Friday.

Preparing to make sundried tomatoes with garden fresh sun golds and sweet selects.

Cherry tomatoes heading into the dehydrator.

Rolling out the pizza dough.
Only in an artist's kitchen would an LLBean thermos be used in place of a rolling pin...because the rolling pin is in the studio to be used on clay!

Last night's pizza LOOKED fabulous with whole grain crust, fresh-from-garden basil pesto, chanterelle mushrooms. and our own sundried tomatoes....too bad the oven decided to stop working!

Bouli....so photogenic.

Early morning walks in Lubec remind me of the 1990's TV program Northern Exposure. Do you remember the opening of that show, where a moose ambles through downtown? Luckily, I haven't come face-to-face with such an enormous creature in the prime of rutting season, but the critters are definitely making their presence known. The walk is a fairly basic route, past houses, fields, and down a quiet tree-groved side road. Two morning walks in a row I have seen a doe and her fawns. They notice me, give a slight flicker of the while tail, and then continue to go about their grazing. Canadian Geese rest in a field, preparing for their southward travel, and crows caw and cackle loudly in trees while eagles soar overhead. There are remnants of coyote scat all along the road, signaling a busy night and reason why we are so diligent about making sure the cats are in and undercover before nightfall. Perhaps the most recent amusing morning-walk spectacle was the flying spruce cones. First I heard this crackling and knocking sound like small branches breaking free and tumbling downward, then I noticed that these little cones were flying right out of the tree, raining down to the ground. The massive amount of shedding had me think that I had perhaps come upon the precise, magical, moment when a tree decided to shed its heavy-weighted cones, but upon further inspection I eyed a little squirrel near the tip of the spruce. She was shaking, knocking, and tossing cones to the ground in frenzied preparation of colder temps to come. We locked gazes briefly then she quickly returned to the task at hand.

Chris and I have been a bit like that little squirrel lately. The colder temps and winds that signal autumn combined with the shade-changing and tumbling-down of leaves has us scurrying to put food away for winter. Harvested basil prompted pesto-production, tomato bounty elicited sundrying (via dehydrator) as well as a big batch of spaghetti sauce which will be cooked and canned later today. The pole beans have been prolific so those will also be canned this week, and apples are being scouted for apple sauce. The garden produced much better results than last year, although, we fully acknowledge that we have much to learn about farming our tiny plot. It continues to be a work in progress.

Last night's gourmet pizza with fresh pesto, sun dried tomatoes, and wild-harvested chanterelle mushroom had our mouths watering. It had been a long day of work for the two of us and this late-night dinner was sure to hit the spot. To our extreme disappointment, we discovered that the oven had kicked-out on us, heating after over an hour to only 325 degrees. Apparently that was the only temp I had been cooking at lately and hadn't noticed any problems. Who knows how long the lack of heat has been an issue. Needless to say - the pizza looked far better than it tasted. Attempts to cook the bottom of the crust in a fry pan were not hugely successful. Let's just say, I woke at 4:00 a.m. a bit hungry from lack of adequate supper. Deja vu struck...wasn't it only three weeks ago that the pottery kiln wouldn't reach full temp? What is it with me and these ovens?

Happily, the elements are back to working order in the kiln. There are still issues though, noticing that the thermocouple is not reading the temps accurately. I have ditched all expectations of reliability and have resorted to firing with old-fashioned cone pacs. To regain some consistency, I decided to retest all my glazes at both cone 5 and cone 6. Yesterday the cone 5 test fire ran and I will unload and check those little wobbly lopsided mini pots later this morning. Once unloaded, I will reload for the cone 6 test firing and let that run while I am working on my fall semester projects for the Heartwood College of Art MFA program. As usual, I am multitasking and wearing several hats at once. With the change of my teaching job to half time, one would think I would have gained extra "free" time, but that would have been an unrealistic expectation I suppose. I am busier than ever juggling teaching, pottery, running the shop, MFA classes, and now we can add the proverbial winter nut-storing to the list. Note that photo above of the 1/2 ton clay shipment. Food isn't the only thing being stored for winter around here!

Next weekend is the Two Countries One Bay Artist Studio Tour. I look forward to that event each year and meeting new and interesting folks who are scurrying from studio to studio to catch the rare glimpse inside over fifty working-artist spaces. I have lots of prep to do before the event begins. I spent the past two days glazing work not only for the test fires but for the tour, too. I have been blessed with excellent sales this summer, and now the shelves are looking a wee bit bare to me. I look forward to restocking them for the weekend and for other upcoming events this fall.

The only other news to report (which isn't really "news) since the last time I blogged is that we survived Hurricane Irene in good order. Luckily for us downeast it wasn't so bad - a bit of heavy rain and wind but no damage that I heard of. News forecasts showed that others did not fare so well in the more northern parts and up through Vermont. We definitely skirted the worst of what could have been and for that I am thankful.

The cats continue to coexist as best they can. A bit of hissing and growling still ensues and Bello tries to stake his claim on certain areas while Bouli continues to dance on the edge of boundaries. If people could get along at least half as well as these two have after being thrust into each others' personal spaces, then we could say that we have come a long way.

Waiting on Irene

2011-08-28T10:21:00.001-07:00

When Chris went outside to secure the grill in case of heavy winds, the rain had quelled to a smattering of drops. Once he began the task, however, a torrential downpour stirred. Yes...I thought it was funny....and....I told him he could NOT come inside until I got a good picture for the blog!

Set of four tall tumblers.
An official Cobscook Pottery website is in the works, but in the meantime, I will continue to post a few items on Etsy.

Bouli thought that she should help with the photo shoot for the Etsy site.
The mug is sold "sans Bouli".

I guess it takes a storm to bring on a day of relaxation! Quiche, peanut butter cookies, blueberry muffins, and zucchini-carrot bread have been baked. The house is clean and smells like warm toasty cinnamon. It all feels pretty mellow and homey. Yesterday was quite a few hours of prep including cleaning out the barn so that the car could be put away safe. I think that Chris has gone into "survival mode". Yesterday he cooked and dehydrated a huge batch of "Sierra Pasta" which he proudly packaged and stored away in the freezer this morning.

The impending storm has been the impetus to get a few things done around here. I even got into the garden to pluck the ripened goodies which are now washed and drying on the kitchen counter. If the storm hits, we have good food. If it doesn't, we still have good food! The cats are hunkering down with us, null in the begging department for outdoor activity. So far, we have had torrential downpours and thunder much of the late morning into early afternoon, but the "tropical storm" is not expected to hit until later this evening. Talk about a dramatic re-entry into the school year!

This past week felt most like vacation than any other week this past summer. Like most teachers, I have a summer job that keeps me preoccupied. The shop has been busy with customers visiting from all reaches of the country, Canada, and even Europe. Between tending shop and pottery production, I was hoppin', but this past week was a bit of an exhale as we had the blueberry festival vending behind us and we had slotted in some enjoyable activities. After a day of Chris and I basically sitting around in a comatose state from exhaustion, we recuperated enough to visit Geer and Pat for homemade waffles (I admit it, we beg them for these waffles every year!). It's always good to catch-up and participate in lively conversation. After our stomach-bulging brunch, Chris and I headed into Machias for a kayak excursion. There is a stream that we hadn't tried in a couple years so we gave that a whirl. It proved to be quite enjoyable and perhaps is now on my list of top fave kayak locations. We ventured off on an inlet and came upon a clay bed which was fascinating. There were plenty of tiny fish, and a few larger ones jumping, as well as a frog or two near the waterlilies. The dragonflies were flitting about and the geese, though slightly annoyed by us, didn't budge much at all as we floated by. We even saw a beaver slink down into the water and found plenty of smaller trees that had succumbed to its teeth-carving carpentry.

I spent the middle of the week cleaning the pottery cave (as much as it can be cleaned!) and then set-up the photo tent to get images of recent pottery work. My hope is that an official Cobscook Pottery website will be up and running this fall, but decided that in the meantime I would upload a few items to my Etsy site which has been void of pottery for some months now. I might try to snap a few more shots of work this week to upload, though I suspect I will have my hands full with setting up my classroom and welcoming students back.

My job teaching job changes dramatically this year. I will return to school as a half-time art teacher. This is a huge change for me as I have been teaching full-time for the past fourteen years. I am embracing the extra time to dive into my sculptural work and to grow the pottery business. I spent a lot of time this summer working out the details and game plan of how to proceed forward in my life as an artist. There is no time like the present to go after your dreams!

I hope that all my readers on the east coast have fared well and safe throughout the storm. And for those still awaiting Irene's arrival....take care!

Vending, Food, and Firing

2011-08-22T14:09:00.001-07:00

Honey Pots: $30 with dipper or
$34.50 with dipper and 8 oz. of fresh Lubec Bee Honey
Honey pots have been fired and are sold with the first batch of honey from the Lubec bees that swarmed our house back in June. This honey tastes amazing! Peter Cowin of Hampden is the Bee Whisperer who saved the bees and now oversees their honey production.

Chris and I vended the Machias Wild Blueberry Festival this past weekend.

Linda attempts to cut this extraordinary pie that she baked- heartily filled with crab apple, blueberry, rhubarb, and....ZUCCHINI!!!
In photo:
Rabbi Linda Motzkin, Ruhi Sophia Rubenstein, Shanna Wheelock, and Chris Crittenden.
Photo taken by Jonathan Rubenstein.

Beautiful bread by master baker Rabbi Jonathan Rubenstein.
Slice of Heaven Breads

New glaze pattern "mossy Forest"

Fresh out of the kiln....

Pottery on shelves in our Cobscook Pottery and Fiber Arts shop.

Stunning new turquoise necklace for sale in our shop,
handmade by my sister Kristin Wheelock, The Indigo Iris.

Though it has only been a few days, it feels like weeks have passed since my last blog entry when dealing with the intricacies of computerized kiln firing methods. With new elements and relays replaced (thanks to my dad and Chris!) the kiln is firing hotter than ever, which now presents its own set of issues. It is like working with new glazes again, and I have resorted to using cones and peepholes to gauge temperature. I thought those days were behind me! The next few firings will be test firings and I won't risk my best wares. Until I have a good grasp of what to expect (if such a thing is possible in pottery!) I will be holding off on new work for a few weeks. Well, the glazing component anyway. I am itching to get back at the wheel. The glazing for the past two weeks was tedious work, but working with form calls to me.

This past weekend was my re-entry into festival vending. I kinda laugh at myself for calling my sister while at the festival to say to her that "now I remember why I gave up vending years ago." It is exhausting work! We were told to be unloaded and have car moved from area by 7:00 a.m. This early arrival was met with energetic resistance post sleep-deprivation after a previous day of packing ware and loading tent and display units on car racks. Not to mention, we were already zombie-like from late night firings, travel, and kiln issues. The first day of the two-day Machias Blueberry Festival was hot, humid, and hectic. At the end of the day, wares had to be packed and loaded, only to be returned the next morning at 7:30 a.m. for day two. Though tired, I enjoyed day two much more. Having the display figured out, and somewhat the quirky knucklebuster Visa machine, I was a wee bit more relaxed and got to enjoy conversations with other vendors. Chris and I were glad, however, when 3:00 rolled around and we could pack up and head home.

Day two of the festival was also Chris' birthday. I know I know. It was torture to have to work on his birthday, but the day ended on a celebratory note with a magical-misty hike in the fog at West Quoddy, followed by a garden fresh pasta dinner complete with gifts and homemade cake. Needless to say, we are both drained to the max today and moving a bit more at a turtle's pace.

In the midst of festival preparation and kiln quirks, we enjoyed an amazing evening with friends. Rabbis Jonathan Rubenstein and Linda Motzkin of Saratoga Springs, New York, have been visiting Lubec for many years more than we have lived here. The past few years they have stopped by the shop to say hello, and this year we were the beneficiaries of a delicious meal at their cottage overlooking the bay. Not only was the food delicious, but the entire evening was a meaningful exchange of philosophies and cultures. Linda is one of only a handful of women scribes in the world, translating ancient texts, and Jonathan is a master baker for the Slice of Heaven Bakery. Together they are "Bread and Torah". They are co-Rabbis for Temple Sinai in Saratoga Springs, and their daughter Ruhi is following in their footsteps, planning to become a Rabbi as well. As you can see by the photos above, we were well-fed that evening with homemade bread, pie, and delicious ginger-sesame tofu with veggies. What a treat!

All else is status quo here. The garden is starting to produce ripened sun gold tomatoes in good quantity. It's more like a tomato jungle than a garden plot, though. Next year I will know that the plants must be spread a bit further apart. Presently, I have to tip toe throughout the wandering stalks and shoots delicately so as not to crush too many fruits. Tonight I plan to cook a special meal in honor of Chris' birthday and will pluck fresh green beans to accompany the main dish.

Bouli is getting big! She is almost five months old now and still torments elder Bello. But Bello is making small steps in reclaiming his space in the house. I have high hopes that all will get along fine before long.

Making A Production Out of It

2011-08-06T16:18:00.001-07:00

The weather in Lubec has been
gorgeous these past couple days with blue skies and lots of warmth.
Perfect for quick-drying pots outside!
(Honey pots, boulibase bowls, and tumblers)

Honey Pots ready to be trimmed and fired.

Me working on a vase.
I admit it, I am lacking any sense of fashion with those pink wool socks and yoga pants.
No, that's not grey hair.
It's clay.

I uploaded photos nearly two weeks ago and intended to blog, but time just got away from me. I have been in heavy production for the past month in preparation for the Machias Blueberry Festival next weekend, but ran into some snags when I started the rounds of glaze firing. Last Wednesday morning the cone 6 glaze firing was on it's 15th hour of firing, far too slow, and clocking in at 3:30 a.m. With less than 100 degrees to go before completion, the kiln had an Err1. This happened during the last firing that I did back in June, too, but I was able to restart the kiln and finish the firing. I thought it was a fluke. This time, I attempted to restart four times over and after 24 hours of monitoring the kiln, I realized that it just wasn't going to happen.

That morning, between the kiln and other events, I was on the phone ten times. The next day, almost as many. Problem-solving mode kicked into high gear. New elements were on their way UPS but did not arrive on Friday as expected. Mind you, I had a firing schedule lined up that included two bisque fires and four glaze within one week: a strenuous schedule to begin with. I did receive one relay in the mail, but after speaking with Skutt tech support, one technician said it was not the elements, but the relays (he thought). Of course, the second technician said it was the elements. Had to be. I had one relay from Portland Pottery, but Skutt said I needed to replace all three. (Head spinning, three people, three different solutions). So, elements arrive tomorrow, and by Tuesday I will have the additional two relays in hand - and Chris and I will repair the kiln. In my twenty plus years of potting, I have never done this. Baptism by fire, so to say.

Once the parts are replaced, an empty firing will have to be done to "season the elements". Each firing cycle is about 24 hours (or should be!) between the firing and the cooling. So, after loading parts, will do the empty firing then two glaze loads, which takes me up to Friday when all must be packed and ready to ship. On the bright side, I will have plenty of pottery ready and waiting to be fired for the Two Countries One Bay Artist Studio Tour in September.

I had been right out straight nonstop glazing and throwing the final pieces. When the kiln issue popped up, it changed the itinerary quite a bit. I did a bit more throwing and was able to do a bisque load yesterday since there is no problem getting to cone 04. The kiln even fired in a reasonable time frame.

Yesterday I built a display unit for the festival. It was the christening of my new jigsaw, and I must say, the unit came out pretty good! I got the idea from my artist friend Becky of Dirt Girl Pottery who has been vending her wares for years. I needed a display that could be easily transported and fold up to fit in our tiny economy car. It will probably end up on the roof rack along with the tent, but most importantly, it is something that I can easily lift and assemble myself if need be.

Much of the past two weeks is a blur at this point. I woke this morning at at 3:00 a.m. and am trying to get organized and prepare for the week ahead. Chris and I did enjoy a beautiful meal at our friend Barbara's home a few nights ago. I have complete garden envy. I have been thinking how grand our garden is doing this year, then I saw Barbara's. Wow! We now have something to aspire to. Though, we don;t foresee ourselves launching into the floral/perennial planting - maintenance looks beyond our time restraints. But, we did get some new ideas for the veggies next year. Farmers Shanna and Chris have quite a ways to go!

Bouli and Bello are managing to cohabit with a modicum of civility. Bello still has his limits to how much he will allow his tail to be chased and bit before he growls, but he is making progress toward reclaiming his space and authority. Bouli. Well, she just is the same ol' Bouli. Cute as button and free-spirited. About five pounds now, too!

I think I will get-in an early shower and unload the kiln. I was a bit daring this last load. I three a few pieces, sundried them, and bisque-fired same day. I am curious (hoping!) that the wares made it through safely.

Everyone put out some good vibes for me, if you will, that we get that kiln up and running in good order and that the glaze firings go through beautifully. Much appreciated!

Back to Routines at the Homestead

2011-08-01T03:21:00.000-07:00

Pomegrenade
Ceramic, encaustic, acrylic. metal, wood
Shanna Wheelock, 2011
(photograph by Leslie Bowman)

The American Craft magazine article about my work should be on newstands soon!
(August/September 2011 issue)
to preview the article go to:
"Remote Revival"

Playing around with encaustics the past couple days, I decided to make another pomegranate.
The smooth texture and color is luscious!

This sci-fi looking contraption by John McMurray is a vent!

Honey Pot
(not yet trimmed or fired, fresh off the wheel!)

Big bowl drying on a bat affixed to the wheel.
It's a workout for my arms to center such a big lump of clay.

Bello LOVES garden time.

Bello guarding the bean pole beans.

Bouli playing inside the factory sculpture.
I had been wondering why all the furniture was tipped-over on floors one and three.
Now I know.

It's a beautiful Sunday afternoon in Lubec. The sun is shining, birds singing, sky blue, temps warm. I rose early the past two days and accomplished throwing tasks well before noon, and that left me with time to play with wax and do a few "chores" for the shop. It feels good to have a somewhat uninterrupted week ahead to get things done. Production has been a bit behind this summer for various reasons: bees, globe sculpture, travel, but overall, summer has been productive and pleasurable. I am going to put a request in to the weather goddess for an extension - maybe an extra month or two of summer if that could be arranged? Please and thank you.

The shop is looking a bit sparse of late, but that translates as good because it means that I have had good sales. I've been throwing lots of new work but the drying time is slow: up to three weeks. I finally managed a bisque fire on Thursday and am at this moment firing a second load. I plan to glaze mid week and am looking forward to restocking shelves next weekend. Inspired by the bees, I have begun to make honey pots. The final shape is an unknown until they are trimmed, but so far, I like them. The little lids are adorable!

The past few days entailed a routine of early waking (about 4:oo or 5:00 a.m.), pottery production in "the cave", then time tending to the shop, office details, and encaustic painting. We've enjoyed the company of friends from Cape Breton and Blue Hill. Also, John McMurray, our Lubec Arts Alive sculpture expert who also is quite the engineer, stopped by with a cool new sci-fi looking contraption that will act as a vent for the pottery studio. Air quality will be much better for our lungs! Thanks, John!

All else is going well on the homefront. Bouli is growing and becoming quite demanding. Yes, she seems to rule the roost here. Bello is making slow progress toward reclaiming his space on the feline totem pole but prefers to send most of his time with the beanpoles in the garden. Compared to last summer, the garden looks fantastic! I hear other folks in more southernly areas brag about their bounty of fresh tomatoes and squash, but we have only had a few peas, three cherry tomatoes, swiss chard, and herbs to pluck. Lubec climate is a bit cooler and this is probably why things are behind. I am hoping we can harvest plenty for canning and dehydrating before snow hits!!!! All else fails, we always have the apple trees.

I have a full schedule planned for this week - appointments, shop, production, and supply ordering. I can't believe that it is already August. The Machias Wild Blueberry Festival is in three weeks and I am going to try my hand at vending once again. It's been years. The time leading up to the festival will be nonstop busy in the studio, as well as the time following. Soon I will be back to teaching and taking classes at Heartwood. Each month through November has pottery events slated. Reality is sinking in...I best finish-up this blog and get to work!

Encaustics, Kayaking, and American Craft Magazine

2011-07-27T09:25:00.000-07:00

Exploring Dimensionality with Wax
Workshop with artist Kim Bernard, North Berwick, Maine

An encaustic painting that I made during Kim's workshop.
Beeswax, copper, and wood

I made a clay form then casted it with plaster. The plaster mold was then used to make beeswax impressions which I will later use for a high relief encaustic painting.

Kayaking on the Kennebec, under the Bond Brook Bridge in Augusta.
Photo by Joe Phelan

The bridge area that Chris has been wanting to kayak.
It looked kinda close (bridge in far-off distance)....but...those darn currents were fierce!
Did we make it?
Read the blog entry below to find out!

Bouli the traveling cat, nestled in Chris' lap for four hours while driving to central Maine.

As far as birthdays go, I have to say, this was one of the tops. Several days of fun with art, friends, family, and kayaking concluded as we arrived home yesterday to find the August/September 2011 issue of American Craft magazine in the the mailbox. This little event was like the cherry on top of the sundae....bright, sweet, and oh so yummy. After months of emails and proofing, photo shoots, and labeling, I got to see the finished product. I feel incredibly blessed and appreciative that the magazine included an article about my work, titled "Remote Revival." Janet Wallace did a great job with the writing of the piece, and Leslie Bowman with the photography of my sculptures. Thank you Janet, Leslie, and American Craft!

Click here to link to the article in American Craft: "Remote Revival"
It's a great magazine - you may just want to visit their site and subscribe. It's only $25 for the year and the images are inspiring!!!!

Chris provided me with an awesome birthday gift this year which was a spot in one of Kim Bernard's encaustic workshops. Kim is a phenomenal teacher and artist and I am fortunate to work under her mentorship during the Heartwood College of Art MFA program. Kim is a sculptor who has experience with ceramics and the encaustics process. All these skills combined make for an interesting learning opportunity for all her students. The particular workshop that I participated in last weekend was "Exploring Dimensionality in Wax". It was two full days of mold-making and tips and tricks in embedding items into wax. The participants were a focused and serious art-making group who hailed from various parts of the globe with interesting stories and art-making experiences. Kim has more workshops slated for August and September. If you have an interest, her intro to encaustics workshop is being offered August 6-7. Limited spaces go quickly, so best check into it soon.

I spent time with family as well and we feasted on lobster and strawberry shortcake, laughed, did a bit of swimming and relaxed. It was a respite from my normally hectic schedule. Monday was a day of kayaking and hanging out with our friend Joe. Chris had been wanting to paddle a particular spot on the Kennebec that we saw each time we passed over the new bridge on route 3. We launched our kayaks down by Fort Western and began our trek upriver. We could see the goal and it seemed like things were going along smoothly. We ventured around old granite foundations and under the Bond Brook Bridge, saw ducks, and watched eagles soar overhead. About halfway to our destination, fierce currents kicked in. As Joe described, it was like a treadmill version for kayaking; we paddled madly while not moving forward one iota. Adrenaline kicked into high gear and we eventually broke through to smoother waters. Then, just when we were feeling confident, the current battled us again. We went through this scenario about four times, but eventually made it to the destination. The ride back was super easy - with those strong currents flowing us back to the boat ramp.

Bouli traveled with us this time around. She's still too young and needy to leave behind and seems to do pretty well adapting to new environments. She is amazing in the car. After about fifteen minutes, she settled into one of our laps and slept pretty much the entire way. Those moments, when not climbing screens or harassing Bello, are precious.

We returned home last night fearful that the heatwave and no rain wreaked havoc on the garden - but it was just the opposite. We have peas! There are a few tiny green beans starting to grow and we are ready to harvest basil for some fresh pesto this weekend. I ate the first tiny, ripe, sun gold cherry tomato on my actual birthday, July 22. The garden is doing well so far this year. We seem to be behind more southern areas of Maine, but things are coming along and seem hearty enough. Tomorrow we will share a meal with friends that will include freshly harvested lettuce, basil, sage, parsley, thyme, swiss chard, and peas.

Today it is back to the usual routine of pottery business and tending shop. I still have lots to unpack, including new supplies for encaustic painting. The kiln has been loaded and will fire tomorrow and a new run of production will begin.

Speaking of tending shop - when I say that the most interesting people visit my little space, I mean it! Last week, a couple from New Hampshire visited who were related to the person who "invented" the hole in the doughnut. Not the doughnut hole (this is quite different!) but the idea to cut the middle out of the doughnut. Hah! I wonder what eccentricities this week will bring.

It's a Potter's Life for Me

2011-07-17T10:54:00.000-07:00

Senator Susan Collins checking out my
pottery at Northern Tides Art Gallery and Gift Shop.
(Yes, she did buy one of my bowls!)
Photo by Debbie Ayala Kasunic

Been busy with production in the pottery cave.
Mugs, tankards, pitcher, tea bowls, noodle bowls, cereal bowls, sake bottles, and creamers.
If you don't make it to my Lubec shop,
you can catch my wares at the Machias Wild Blueberry Festival
August 20-21

Bouli at 14 weeks...twice her weight than when we adopted her in June!

This past week has been sort of refreshing - to be back at the routine of throwing pots and tending shop. No bee swarms, no sculptures to get to a show, and no major community project. I have been pretty much nose to the grindstone in the pottery cave, throwing and trimming and thinking up a "plan".

I have to chuckle to myself when I think back to one of my early blog posts when I said that I would never be a production potter. That is still true in the sense that I don't plan to work full time solely as a potter. I love my weaving and sculpting and also enjoy teaching. That being said, I am fortunate to have developed a skill that I also enjoy very much. My favorite is still making the bowl that feels "just right" in the hand. Chris and I eat out of bowls for almost every meal, so the perfect fit is important. It isn't just the aesthetic appeal of the glaze or shape when choosing the bowl, but also the weight and the feel.

As much as I grumble about mugs and handles (and yes, I have blogged about that too!) I do make my own version, a tankard or mead mug if you will. I have come to accept that mugs, in some form, will be part of my repertoire, and probably for a long time. Even though the process of pulling and attaching handles is long and tedious, I love how the mug looks when completed, and I enjoy the feel of it in my hand. Having what I consider to be large hands (or shall we say, sturdy hands, yes, that's more attractive sounding!) a larger mug with an ample handle suits me well. I don't like getting my digits squeezed between mug body and handle when enjoying my morning cup of cocoa.

The shop has been busy this summer with cars pulling-in from all over the US and Canada. I have met some super interesting people and enjoy the conversations. This week I learned about lake formation from a geologist, got some good kayaking tips, and received excellent marketing advice. I'm always impressed when people find me since we are off the beaten path, and I am grateful for all the patronage that I receive!

Despite the long days in the studio, I did find time for extracurricular activities. Wednesday evening, Chris and I enjoyed a peaceful kayak excursion on Gardner's Lake in East Machias. It's an expansive lake and we only toured a fraction of it. I suspect we'll return later this summer.

Summer Keys is one of the best features of Living in Lubec. It's a music camp of sorts, but for adults. Renown musicians travel from all over to spend a week mentoring cello, violin, fiddle, piano, guitar, etc. Every Wednesday evening during the summer, Summer Keys faculty perform for the Mary Potterton Memorial Concert series at the beautiful Congregational Christian Church. This past week was a bonus with a Thursday evening performance as well: "Music for Mandolin - Marilynn Mair and Friends". I have always loved mandolin and this concert was a real delight. From Irish songs, to classical compositions, to Brazilian waltzes, the music had the audience entranced. At one point, there were eleven mandolin players on stage! Anyway, Summer Keys is just one of those gems tucked away here downeast. If you visit in the summer, be sure to stay over on a Wednesday so you can enjoy the music. (See video below with Marilynn Mair on mandolin).

I know that blog readers are waiting with bated breath for a Bouli update. She is feisty as ever, growing stronger, bigger, and has now added "curtain climbing and master of window screen destruction" to her list of athletic abilities. She devours twice as much food as her elder Bello. In fact, she eats a few bits from her plate, rushes to Bello's dish, pushing him out of the way to eat HIS food, then returns to her own plate to gobble the remains. Despite her craziness, she continues to win the hearts of many.

Community Art in Lubec

2011-07-10T11:59:00.000-07:00

View of the herring sculpture during installation in front of the smokehouse.
Photo by Marcia Chaffee

It takes a whole village to raise a tent....

Lubec Arts Alive 2011 underway with community gathering to paint herring cut-outs

Marcia Chaffee, John McMurray, and Jean Bookman assemble the
smaller herring onto the steel rods.

The gorgeous fish head, fins, and tail were painted by local artist Claudia Mahlman.

The 12" wide herring sculpture was set into concrete by Dick Hoyt, Rob Chaffee, John McMurray, Steve Silverman, and Nate Rosebrooks. Thanks guys!

The herring sculpture installed, downtown Lubec.

Thank you to our 2011 Volunteers!
Dick Hoyt, Gene Trebolis, Rob Chaffee, Steve Silverman, Chris Crittenden, Mike Scrivani, Pat Fry, Claudia Mahlman, Nancy Begley, Jean Deveber, T.J. Goetting, Nate Rosebrooks, Warren Lewis, Joel Riggs.

Special Thanks to:
John McMurray who offered his time, skills, and vision to make this project a success.
Bar Harbor Bank and Trust for vital sponsorship of this year's event.
Regional Medical Center at Lubec for use of the tent.
Frank Van Riper and Judith Goodman for photographing the event.
Claudia Mahlman for painting the head, tail, and fins.
Gene Trebolis for drilling the hole for the sculpture.

Thank you to our 2011 donors:
George Bookman, Claudia mahlman, Sheryl Denbo and Steve Silverman, Jean and Peter Deveber, Pat Fry, Diane Z, Anna and Nate Rosebrooks, Bar Harbor Bank and Trust, Nancy Begley, Nina Bohlen/Davis Pike, Rob and Marcia Chaffee, Annie and George Davis, Frank Van Riper and Judith Goodman, Creative Arts Studio (Jean Bookman and Dick Hoyt).

The Lubec Arts Alive 2011 Committee:
Jean Bookman, Karen Burke, Marcia Chaffee, Sheryl Denbo, Ann Rosebrooks, Shanna Wheelock

What a week! Lubec Arts Alive 2011 came and went and boy do we have a fantastic new piece of community artwork on display in downtown Lubec. To all of those who came by to paint a fish, create art on the beach, or to lend a hand, thank you!!!!

Again, a fabulous committee worked behind the scenes for the past few months to make the project a reality. Kudos to them for sticking-it-out despite busy schedules with work and family, to bring an awesome community art experience to Lubec.

Next time you drive through downtown, take a gander at the 12 foot' herring sculpture in the garden at the smokehouse museum. It is a fabulous burst of creative enthusiasm, and I imagine on a day like to today, with a cleansing coastal breeze, is doing its thing and spinning to show all its colors.

It was an honor to work with Addison sculptor John McMurray. His years of experience as both an artist and a teacher benefited us and he was a joy to have on board for this project. I am grateful for his patience and energy!

Come Thursday afternoon, I was able to sit back, breathe, reflect. The weather was gorgeous, blue skies, gentle wind, warm temps. Chris and I headed out to Indian Lake for our first kayak of the season, followed by a walk along the new trail in Machias. We were greeted by ducks, an eagle, otters, a turtle, dragonfly, and a loon. It was a peaceful few hours. Friday was a fabulous celebratory day with art on the beach at Mowry, followed by the West Quoddy Lighthouse Art Auction at the grange. We were pretty wiped-out and didn't officially make it to the fireworks intown, but could hear the booms and see a few sparks over the bay from our house.

I have been behind in my pottery production due to first the bees and then Lubec Arts Alive, but finally got fully back into the studio Saturday with an eight-hour throwing session, and again today for another five hours. I am trying to narrow-down and focus-in on the thrown items that I enjoy making the most and am attempting to make a "game-plan" for the rest of the summer and fall. As usual, I am multi-tasking with varied mediums and projects and next up is possibly a website and some vending. I still haven't set a workshop schedule but hope to teach at least one or two workshops before summer's end, and also look forward to being a participant in an encaustics workshop later this month. Happy Birthday to me!

Bouli is laying beside me emitting an occasional grunt or groan as she naps. She definitely knows how to live. She sleeps, plays, and eats plenty and is never at a loss for copious amounts of human adoration and affection. What a life!

The wind is lulling me into a tranquil state....I might have to take my cue from Bouli on how to spend the rest of this afternoon....

Bicentennial Week in Lubec

2011-07-03T10:37:00.000-07:00

The garden is growing, slowly but surely!

The peas seem quite happy!

Cobscook Pottery has re-opened post-bee incident!

Summer pottery production began today.

I think the excitement of the bee swarm has finally started to subside. Chris returned from visiting family and has settled back-in to Lubec life and I have regained some sort of usual routine with walking, creating, and gardening. Bouli is still a handful and I have found myself googling things such as "when does a kitten start to calm down?" She is a wild two-pound ball of energy who eats everything in sight from toes to beetles, and this morning captured her first mouse. It is a challenge to get work done when those adorable blue eyes follow us around begging for attention, but somehow we have a system where Chris and I cooperatively conquer "Bouli-mania" and manage to get to our tasks.

It is the fourth of July week and Lubec's bicentennial. The town is alive with excited energy and festive events, and this marks the beginning of tourist season. I am not persnickety when it comes to tourists (I know some folks are!) I love them! I enjoy meeting interesting folks from all over the globe. That's one of the neat things about running a micro-business here. On the business side of things, I am trying to exercise some sort of commitment to set hours this summer season. It's hard to do when the lake and the loons call and the kayaks start to beg our attention, or on some days when I am in a creating mood and don't want to leave the pottery cave to clean-up for guests. But so far, I have done well staying open consistently. That being said, the bees were cause for a few -days of shutdown last week. I didn't think that most folks would want to take-up company with thousands of potentially-stinging buzzing creatures.

Yesterday was my first planned full-day of production at the wheel. I had just completed two days of glazing and got the kiln loaded and firing. When I got ready to sit at the wheel my motivation seemed null. It was a bit confusing since I am generally such a workaholic - and if those bees had one message for me - it would be productivity! But I guess I need a day of calm to regroup. After a few hours of bumbling around without purpose, I went to the garden, slathered in SPF 30, and spent about four hours weeding and planting. I get that same peaceful feeling when working in the garden as I do when working with clay. It isn't much of a stretch being that they are both earth. So, it was a late start to the day for me, but come evening I could have gone on another couple hours if I hadn't been so annoyed by the mosquitoes. I'll try to plant a few more swiss chard seedlings this week and weed a few more rows. And, I did finally get to throwing this morning. It was only a two-hours session since I have so many things to get done today - but am hoping for a full run at the wheel tomorrow.

A busy week ahead is planned with Lubec Arts Alive. I, along with my co-committee and volunteers, will be at Flatiron Corner Tuesday and Wednesday painting of the herring cutouts for the kinetic sculpture. We hope that lots of people, of all ages, join us in completing this work of art! It's a super neat project and I look forward to its installation at Lubec Landmarks on Thursday. Friday we will be at Mowry Beach for the Goldsworthy-style artwork. The beach art is always fun, always relaxing, and a perfect end to this year's event. This is our third year with Lubec Arts Alive. It looks like we are here to stay! Kudos to our team!!!

I best get back to work.....paperwork, community work, housework, artwork.

Loving summer.

Beautiful Chaos

2011-06-25T16:42:00.000-07:00

Peter Cowin, "The Bee Whisperer" checks the ceiling with a stethoscope.
Got bees?
Peter's contact info:
(207) 862-2080
cell (207) 299-6948
email: petercowin@tds.net

I asked for the suit in a light blue or sage, but apparently it only comes in white.

Peter prepares a bucket for the soon-to-be-sucked-up bees

It was a massive buzzing hive of honey bees in my studio ceiling!
Peter estimates 25,000.

I guess bees are not claustrophobic.

Once the ceiling was cracked open, some bees moved to the light.
Most bees, however, stuck close to home.

I even got to suck a few up myself!

Me! Holding a bunch of bees! Who'da thunk it!
And to think I panicked over three bees on Monday night.
I sure have come a long way.

Honeycomb
A beautiful natural work of art!
This honeycomb was built in only four days.
Can you imagine if the bees had another week to work on it?

A sculpture I completed on Wednesday, which just happens to be painted with beeswax!
"Worlds: Seen and Foreseen"
Downtown Skowhegan
(Exhibit of globes in various building and business windows, organized by Abby Shahn)

Click here to read the article in the Bangor Daily News about the bee swarm at our house.

Click here to read the follow-up article in Bangor Daily news which discusses the relocation of the bees to Hampden.

The best way I can describe my life is "beautiful chaos". Something always happens that pops up last minute with an immediate and crucial deadline that throws all other schedules and plans out the window. Some things are seemingly unsettling but in the end, all seems okay and part of "the path". The past few months have been like this and just when I think there is a moment around the corner where I will be able catch my breath, something else deems my attention. I am juggling with the best of clowns and somehow hold my own. This morning feels peaceful at the moment and I plan to write this blog, work in the garden, then do some schoolwork, but I won't get too comfortable or attached to the outcome since it can all change in a flash.

This past week was one of those weeks where I had every minute mapped out from waking until sleep. My mom had been visiting from central Maine and after she left on Monday morning, my calender was filled with two medical appointments, completion of a sculpture/delivery to a show in Skowhegan, cookout with family in West Gardiner, and visitors to Lubec from southern Maine. All this was to take course over a period of six days. My biggest worry one week ago was how to get that globe sculpture done in time for installation.

Monday night it all changed (though I didn't know it at the time!) I had said goodbye to mom, hustled off to Machias to get a paint fleck out of my eye, and returned to Lubec to work madly on the globe sculpture. All seemed to be going well. I was in and out of the house, up and down the stairs to the basement grabbing tools. About 6:30 p.m. I opened the cellar door to find buzzing critters circling a light bulb. My long time phobia of things that sting kicked into high gear. I sent out a panicked email to friends asking what to do. I needed access to that basement but there was no way I could get down the stairs. I assumed wasps - they looked HUGE...MASSIVE...and they were aggressive and surely would chase and sting me. I kept walking to the door listening for the buzz. I taped the bottom of the door so that they cold not crawl out and come after me. Finally, I got a return email from a brave friend, Jerry, who offered to come over the next afternoon and figure out how the "wasps or bees" were getting into the house, and to plug things up. I felt relief knowing that soon help was on the way.

The next morning I woke to hear no buzzing noise. I cautiously opened the door and saw three small bees resting on the wall. I bravely (don't laugh....this was brave for me!) scooped one bee into a jar and went to an insect guide book. She appeared to be a honey bee.

Okay, so I have three honey bees in the house. Jerry will be over in the afternoon and this will all be taken care of.

Well, come noon time, I was sitting in the living room when I heard a banging at the window. I looked up to see 100-200 bees buzzing about! They were entering an opening where a board was not tightly sealed. Panic set in, more emails to friends, facebook posts. Someone knew of a beekeeper here in Lubec so I gave her a call. In the meantime I left a message with the Department of Agriculture. The beekeeper and her husband came over and confirmed honey bees. Shortly after they left, Dept. of Agriculture returned my call. It was laid out for me that time was of the essence in getting a hive out of the house since a population of bees can grow quickly and honey can cause major damage. While on the phone, and looking out the window at the 100-200 bees, the intensity and numbers of the bees increased to thousands. At the same time, Jerry (with a plan to help me with three bees, who is also allergic to bees) was driving up the driveway and witnessing the full view of the swarm that was moving in (described as looking like fireflies over my roof). The best way I can describe the swarm was that it was like a scene from a horror movie. There was a massive amount of buzzing insects circling and flying, peppering the board outside my window, crawling on top of one another, for about twenty minutes. Jerry hopped out the truck and quickly ran into the house. We watched out the window in disbelief, all the while the man from Department of Agriculture was listening me to swear profusely. I was informed that I had approximately 15-30,000 bees at this point and that I needed to do something about it immediately. The Queen lays anywhere from 1200-3000 eggs a day and soon the hive could be 80,000 strong. I was given names of beekeepers and a list of best pesticides.

That evening another beekeeper came over to take a look at the situation, and I had made calls to two extermination companies. One company flat-out refused because they said that the bees are on an endangered list. Another company said they'd do it, but for a high price. Meanwhile, a facebook friend knew of a "swarmer" in Hampden named Peter Cowin who is an expert at removing swarms of bees. I would rather see 30,000 beings live if possible, but would do what needed to be done. I called Peter right away looking for advice. Hampden is almost a three hour drive so I didn't expect him to actually come to Lubec, but he sensed the panic in my voice and the fear that Chris, who had been out of town and is allergic to bees, would be returning to a house full of them. We made arrangements for Peter to come to Lubec on Saturday. Needless to say, I had to cancel out my friend Becky's visit with her 3rd grade daughter Alice. It could be a potentially dangerous situation.

So, a plan was made, the globe got finished and delivered to Skowhegan, I got to see my niece Christine and new baby Caden, made it to another doctor appointment and returned to Lubec late Friday night to clear out the studio space and prep for the "Bee Whisperer." I had been color-coding areas of the wall and ceiling where I heard the most activity, but by Friday night, it had concentrated to just one area in the ceiling.

Saturday morning Peter arrived with bee suits and buckets. Drew, a building contractor, was on board to open up the ceiling and patch things up when done. Peter listened to the walls and ceiling with a stethoscope....and...there was zero noise! Not a bit of buzzing! Oh my. Suddenly it looked as though I had a very active imagination. To boot, it was raining outside and not a single bee was seen. Peter said that it was possible the bees had starved to death after the couple days of rain, or that perhaps they were just dormant due to lack of food. Talk about uneventful! After all the hype and hours I spent dealing with the situation, and for Drew to put aside his scheduled work to show up for the hive removal...I was feeling quite guilty. I saw the bees, I had a witness, I heard them buzzing all week....and come Saturday morning...not one bit of evidence!

Peter made a best guess where the hive would be based on entrance, where I had heard most buzzing, and the interior skeletal structure of the room. Drew cut open an 18"x24" chunk of sheetrook from the ceiling and there revealed a huge mass of buzzing bees. I had never seen a hive up close before. Anyway, why would I want to do that?!

I was suited up, determined to face my phobia head on. My heart began to race a bit as some bees began to swoop down from the hive and into the sectioned-off space of the room. But all in all, I felt okay. I had been reassured over and over that I would not be stung. I trusted Peter's confidence.

All in all, the whole operation took under three hours, and the bees have now been relocated to Peter's bee farm where I understand that they are very happy! I developed a new respect and fascination for the bees. The honeycomb, which I will save for a sculpture, is a beautiful artwork in and of itself. I am in awe of how efficiently and precisely the bees work as a community to build and maintain a hive. Their ability to work together toward a goal is a good lesson for humans.

That being said, I am glad that the hive was removed before honey production started and there was minimal structural damage. Drew was wonderful about doing his part, Peter was amazing, and it is one of those once-in-a-lifetime experiences that I am honored to have been a part of. It could have turned out much worse, and for that it didn't I am grateful.

Chris returns safely to a bee-free house and I am getting back to routine in a panic-free state of mind. I hope to reschedule my visitors for later in the summer, and plan to tackle that weeding in the garden a bit today, and re-open the shop which as been closed since Tuesday. Ahhhh....all so seemingly "normal."

I'm waiting for the next whirlwind of "beautiful chaos".

(I think it just occurred - no power in the shop!!! Could that be from the lightning storm yesterday???)

As the World Turns

2011-06-20T01:12:00.000-07:00

Adding first layer of color to the Globe

Adding the camouflage pattern to the "globe"

Size does...and doesn't....matter

It is difficult to type with a kitten laying on the keyboard; she seems to think that anything that moves (including a virtual mouse cursor) is fair game. Bouli mania has taken over in our house. She is adjusting to her new role here very well and it becomes more clear with each passing day that she will be the feline in charge. Bello is a bit disgruntled but he is starting to come around. The hissing and growling is lessening. Last night, Bello returned to the bed and even purred a bit. It isn't so much that he suddenly likes the new tiny critter on four furry, and very fast, paws, but more so that he is realizing that she is here to stay. I fell bad for Bello. I really do. Bouli has endless amounts of energy and chases Bello, pouncing at him, almost constantly. She wants a playmate and he wants to be left alone. He has already entered his senior years at ten, and his fifteen pound body isn't quite as agile as Bouli's less than two pound frame. I think that eventually the two of them will be fine together. It's the transition time that is a bit trying.

School let out for summer as of last Friday and it seems my inner solstice clock has already kicked-in. I woke this morning at 3:00 a.m. to see the light serenely emerge over the bay. On a school night, this gets me a bit worried and wearied, but in summer I take advantage of early wakes and get to work. It's perfect for things like blogging and sketching ideas.

My mother has been visiting for the past few days and has been wonderful with entertaining Bouli while I attempt to complete a sculpture. I am working on a "globe" for the Skowhegan show "Worlds: Seen and Foreseen" and need to finish that up within a couple days. I am applying encaustic paints and so far am liking it. I really liked the globe appearance when it was just a simple blue and white, but as the image develops with varied layers, I am liking that as well. The artistic process is interesting in that an artist can choose to stop at any point in a piece and call it done. The "viewer" would not know the difference. I was tempted to stop at the blue and white version, however, ultimately decided to not give in to early-onset infatuation and began applying the next layer of color. It is a battle of aesthetic choice versus conceptual vision. If you are in the Skowhegan area in July, check out the display by varied artists in downtown business windows.

The new summer schedule is no less hectic than any other time of the year, but it does offer up some variety in the usual routine. Friday night mom and I ventured over Eastport way to Leslie Bowman's opening at Cat Bird Seat Gallery. After, we headed back to Lubec for dinner. It is wonderful to have lived in Lubec long enough now to see the renaissance that is taking place - with new restaurants, shops, and galleries. Ten years ago when Chris and I arrived, it felt like a sleepy little town. The past two summers there has been an explosion of things creative, from live music to arts events. Lubec Arts Alive (July 5-8) is now in it's third season as Lubec prepares a huge celebration in honor of it's bicentennial. When here, folks stay at one of the many historical B&B's, eat delicious concoctions from one of the restaurants (from "breakfast all day" diners to upscale gourmet establishments), shop for unique items made locally and regionally, and gorge on the most delicious Peruvian chocolates you'll ever devour. And, kudos to Debra Ayala-Kasunic, owner of Northern Tides Art and Gift Gallery, Lubec, Maine, who won the Maine 2011 Downtown Achievement, Community Spirit – Individual of the Year Award for her extraordinary contributions to Lubec and the downtown community! (see excerpt from press release below).

If you venture just slightly out of Lubec up route 1 you'll find the amazing Tide Mill Organic Farm or venture across the bridge in Lubec to visit Franklin D. and Eleanor Roosevelt's summer home on Campobello Island. Don't forget your passport! Remember, Lubec is right on the border of New Brunswick, Canada. Have you ever been on a ferry? They make for a beautiful and relaxing summer's day excursion and you may even spot a whale or two. Or, you could just hang out dowtown Lubec and watch the whales from one of the restaurants on-the-water decks or hike the cliffs at the famous red and white West Quoddy lighthouse and possibly spot a whale or two our there. If you are an avid birder, Lubec is home to some of the most rare and unique birds, not to mention it is a mecca for eagles.

If you haven't already made plans to visit Lubec this summer - what are you waiting for?! And make sure you stop by my place, Cobscook Pottery and Fiber Arts, when you are here! When you're done, book a massage or crystal bowl session at Twilight Therapeutics with the most excellent and healing microbiotic-goddess massage therapist you'll ever meet!

I really do love living in this community. It is, as Chris's grandfather often said to us "the perfect place for an artist and a writer." There is inspiration around every corner and tucked in every nook and cranny.

Press Release:

Owner of Northern Tides Art and Gift Gallery Wins Maine 2011 Downtown Achievement, Community Spirit Award

Skowhegan, M.E. – June 10th, 2011: Roxanne Eflin, Senior Program Director of the Maine Downtown Center/Maine Development Foundation, announced today that Debra Ayala-Kasunic, owner of Northern Tides Art and Gift Gallery, Lubec, Maine, won the Maine 2011 Downtown Achievement, Community Spirit – Individual of the Year Award for her extraordinary contributions to Lubec and the downtown community.

In the Strand Theater in downtown Skowhegan, community leaders, Maine Downtown Center/Maine Development Foundation staff and volunteers, and other business owners gathered after a two day conference devoted to historical preservation and revitalization of our downtown business centers, came to cheer for their hometown nominees for the Maine Downtown Achievement Awards. Debra Ayala-Kasunic of Northern Tides Art and Gift Gallery received the only Maine Downtown Achievement award within the coastal counties of Washington and Hancock for her promotion of the Town of Lubec.

According to the nomination application, Debra Ayala-Kasunic, an active member of the Lubec Comprehensive Planning Committee (appointed position), Cobscook Bay Area Chamber of Commerce, Lion’s Club member, Board of Trustees for Lubec Memorial Library, and APPLE, visualized Northern Tides Art and Gift Gallery when she purchased a 100 year old, distressed building and began the first Lubec Downtown retail building renovation project in June of 2006. New to retail sales, the area, and using her own funds, Debra developed and implemented Northern Tides’ various micro-business plans: to represent local artists, to manage renovation and restoration, and to develop an art and environment community analysis of Lubec, dedicated to ensure that tourists, visitors, and local residents might be offered a true Down East, Lubec, one-of-kind experience.

After one full year of restorations to the first floor, operating under the goal of maintaining the historic integrity of the building, Debra opened Northern Tides’ door June 1st, 2007 with approximately 25 artists representing 125 products. Building restorations included, but were not limited to: the original tin ceilings, foundation, original store front display windows, walls, and kitchen and bath area, all completed employing a symphony of graceful New England colors in an effort to help restore the Lubec waterfront to its original beauty.

When asked about her award, Debra says: “The award came as a complete shock to me. I had no idea that I had even been nominated for a State award. I am still amazed, but tremendously grateful.” Debra comments on her restoration project, “I never could have completed this project without the expertise of the local carpenters, electricians, roofers, and especially the guys from the Lubec Hardware Store. Most importantly, my husband Jerry invested countless hours of personal time and resources to support what at times seemed like a crazy endeavor. But, since I undertook this project in 2006, it has been gratifying to see the gradual development of a revitalized business community: the opening of several new restaurants, inns, gift shops, an active Community Garden Club, and, I believe, an increased sense of pride of place.”

Celebrating its 5th year in business, Northern Tides now represents over 80 Maine and Canadian Maritime artist, artisans, and authors, ensuring a renewed experience for frequent visitors to both the Gallery and online. But with each year, Debra looks to the future revitalization of Lubec and the continued growth of her own micro-business.

In announcing the awards, Roxanne Eflin, Maine Downtown Center/Maine Development Foundation, thanked each nominee and award winner for their outstanding achievements and encouraged everyone to continue their vital work to increase visibility, enhance cultural and eco-tourism, expand employment opportunities, and to make each town and city their own unique, beautiful environment for all to enjoy.

Bouli Mania

2011-06-12T17:47:00.000-07:00

"Bouli"
Tabouli Sage

Photographer Leslie Bowman shooting my sculpture "Pomegrenade"

I have become a crazy cat momma: kitty pics and baby talk, squeaky toys, blanket covered basket, and incessant worrying about health. One week ago Chris and I adopted the cutest little kitten we call "Bouli". She is only 9 weeks old and doesn't weigh much more than a pound and a half, but she is one huge ball of feisty energy, and as her name "Tabouli" translates, she is "little spicy." She has turned the house upside down and usual routines are no longer routines. Almost everything revolves around ensuring her a healthy and safe start to life.

Our ten-year-old cat Bello is not as thrilled as Chris and me with Bouli's arrival. In fact, he is being a downright stinker about it all. A week has passed and the hissing and growling has not yet subsided. He has taken a couple swings at her and it is not becoming of him at all. Hopefully in time he will come around. He was fine when Barley was here, the elder siamese, but two years as the only feline on the premises has become quite comfortable for him.

All the while adjusting to this needy little beauty, there has been lots of other activity. Our school just finished a week of theater residency with "Children's Stage Adventures" out of New Hampshire. It was amazing! Rob and Lorrie Gray began last Monday with auditions for "The Fisherman and His Wife" and after only two hours, every student had been cast in a part of the production, except for the four who were recruited as directors' assistants. The entire week students studied lines, worked lights, practiced dance routines and songs. Students' nerves were at an all time high as they dressed in costume and make-up for the two Friday performances. The evening performance packed the house. I worked backstage corralling the "starfish", but from behind the curtain, I heard new-found confidence in our young actors, and the pleasure of the audience as they clapped, cheered and laughed. This was a top-notch residency with the Grays. Phenomenal! I look forward to the outfit's return next December as they work with students on "Midsummer Night's Dream."

This weekend was no respite. I woke Saturday morning to see that Bouli's eyes were red and closing-up. She had been battling the eye goop all week and repeated applications of tea seemed to help. But two days after stopping that regimen, the irritation returned, as well as sneezing and other unpleasant things. So it was off to the vets for eye ointment and meds. She is doing very well today and still seems to love me even after I force-feed her syringes of deworming meds and slather her little blue eyes in ointment. Somehow, I managed to work a few hours in the studio on a sculpture for the Skowhegan show later this month. Bouli rested on my foot while I applied encaustics to my Grenade Globe.

Last October, Canadian writer Janet Wallace visited my studio to gather information for an article about my work. In March, I learned that American Craft magazine picked it up, slated to be run in the August 2011 issue. (Someone should do an article on Janet! She's a talented artist and overall interesting person!) The magazine requested pics of my political work and transformation tapestries. I am by no means a skilled photographer and was directed toward the talents of photographer/painter Leslie Bowman. I was thrilled that Leslie agreed to do the shoot here in my own studio since traveling my work in quantity is not feasible.

Leslie returned today for an 8 hours session. Most people don't realize how much work goes into getting one good picture with proper lighting and composition. My sculptures come with a handful of complications that make it difficult to capture the full story without several points of view. The studio was a tangled mess of cords and lights as Leslie moved from tripod to floor to approach the works from new perspectives. Several hundred pictures were snapped in hopes of finding twenty or thirty solid pics that the magazine will choose to use. The next step is the editing which Leslie is no doubt doing now as I type. I can't wait to see the results. It was such a pleasure to work with her!

My eyelids are heavy so I best wind this down and get some shut eye. This is the last week of school and will be a hectic one, more so than usual. I am already thinking that it will be nice to try to catch up on sleep next weekend!

Frenzied and Frazzled

2011-06-03T18:20:00.000-07:00

Base structure for current sculpture, heading to Skowhegan show later this month "Worlds: Seen and Unseen"

Working on the armature for the top part of my "globe".

An idea of how it will fit together when done.

Chris rototilling the garden plot

Yes, frenzied and frazzled would be an accurate description of how things are going right now. The next three or four weeks are utterly overwhelming to think about. There are so many excellent events occurring, but it is hard to keep track of everything or to try to figure out how to fit all that needs to be done into the schedule. Here it is 9:30 at night when I am normally prepping for slumber, but instead I am trying to squeeze-in a blog entry since I haven't posted in a couple weeks and this weekend is packed solid.

Last weekend was the seasonal opening day for Cobscook Pottery and Fiber Arts. It was non-stop activity from the time of waking until sleep. We started off with visitors, moved onto the Tide Mill Organic Farm seedling sale (where we saw all kinds of friends and acquaintances), then customers, an appointment with a photographer, more visitors, and studio time. People have definitely come out of their winter hibernation.

Over that long holiday weekend, we found ourselves at a co-worker's farm shoveling two truckloads of manure for the garden. The next day we gave our hand at rototilling and boy did that work well! In the past Chris would use just a shovel and a hoe to break up the earth. I had no idea how much easier it would be to use this powerful equipment. I must say - there is some sort of residual past-life farmer in me....I really enjoyed climbing on top of that horse manure pile, digging in with a pitch fork, then working it into the garden! After I snapped Chris' pic with the rototiller he handed that task over to me. Fun! The garden is almost all planted and we are hoping for a better harvest than last summer. The soil is more rich this go-around and we have been receiving advice from garden-enthusiasts.

I am spending as much time as possible in the studio, both pottery for the shop and on a sculpture for a "globe" show in Skowhegan that artist Abby Shahn is organizing. I'll post pics of that piece when done. I am working outside my usual medium of clay and opted for plaster, acrylics, and encaustics. The deadline is too soon for me to chance it with clay. So far so good. I have been busy ordering supplies and working out the details.

I also need to work n a piece for the bicentennial lighthouse benefit art auction coming up over the 4th of July week. Two separate political pieces will be off to shows in August, and I am excited about an article in a magazine that is also slated for that month. It is looking to be an excellent summer in respect to art.

Lubec Arts Alive supplies need to be ordered and there is still more prep work to be done before the big event July 5-8. I have yet to design posters for that and will work with other committee members to finish "edging" the components of the sculpture.

I am still teaching full time days and even though we think of the school year as "winding down", this year we are "winding up full speed ahead!" All next week is a very exciting theater residency and our roles will change and flow according to the needs. I will keep in the back of my mind that all grades must be calculated and submitted, artwork returned to students, student work prepped for summer lighthouse gallery sales, and room cleaned and neatened.

Tonight we attended the art opening at UMM of our friend Jean Bookman. It was a wonderful evening with great art, food, friends. Kudos to Jean for such an accomplishment. Her assemblage and sculpture work are bizarrely interesting and it's a show not to miss. Bernie Vinzani did a great job "hanging" the show.

As I re-read what I have written - I am thinking how blessed I am to have so many wonderful experiences in my life! And such wonderful family, husband, and friends. Wow- it really is a good life.

There is much more activity swirling all around me but too much to post tonight. It's an exciting week ahead and I look forward to writing all about it when I can get back to the blog.

Opening for the Season

2011-05-25T03:18:00.000-07:00

Newly painted sign will be posted at end of drive

We will be OPEN this Memorial weekend!
Saturday 12-5
Sunday 11-5
Monday 10-5

Interior of the shop showing one of my tapestries and some pottery, my sister's jewelry (The Indigo Iris), and landscapes by my brother-in law Neal McPartlin.

Fresh out of the kiln!

Long overdue....I repainted the floor!

My sister's jewelry and my little oil paintings and a tapestry. Love this birch stand made by Alan Mead (his work is at Orange River Arts and Laughing Raven Gift Shop downtown.)

I'm a bit late to blogging and this will be brief. It's memorial Weekend coming up and that means it's time to get Cobscook Pottery and Fiber Arts open for the season. It's been a flurry of activity between painting, making a new sign, throwing pots, ordering supplies and getting the paperwork in order.

I'm excited about this season - my fourth summer of being open. Lubec has become quite the tourist destination (seemingly overnight!) and new small businesses are opening, the restaurants are packed, and I love seeing the energy all around. It's been super rainy this spring; perhaps that means that this summer will be just as sunny, warm, and gorgeous as last summer. Though, warm is all relative I guess. I grew up in central Maine and we would migrate to the coast for respite on those scorching days. The summer months here feel....perfect. Just the right amount of heat with the added benefit of the beautiful ocean.

I hear that the B&B's, cottages, and motels are booking up quick (if not already). It's best to get your reservations made soon. And don;t forget to stop and say hi to me when you are in town!

Other than prep for opening weekend, I will report that the student art show last week was fabulous. One of our 7th grade students played piano (beautiful performance!) and the 3rd and 4th graders were on stage with a percussion ensemble with the doumbek, a gathering drum, and all kinds of fun instruments like shakers, the triangle, and rainstick. The performance was preceded by a 4th grader playing the congas. He definitely has a future as a professional drummer. I'm so proud of my students! I've been teaching music this year (a first for me!) and even though it was a daunting challenge at first, I must say, that it grew on me. The drumming has been particularly fun.

Chris has been turning the earth for the garden that we hope to begin planting this coming weekend. I have been preparing seedlings and planning the plots. It won;t be too big and we will plant what we knew to grow last year. A co-worker is providing us with some horse manure which will make the soil much richer than last year. Chris has been gathering gardening tips fomr our friend Dick who seems to be quite successful in primarily raised beds. He has great mulching and planting tips.

The rest of the yard is in need of TLC and there is always a list of things to get done. It's nearing the end of the school year so the classroom requires lots of attention. Student artwork goes to the lighthouse gallery over the summer and grades will need to be presented. We will be participating in a schoolwide theater project the next to last week of school that ends with a community performance. I'm really looking forward to that!

Busy end to the week with appointments and a Lubec Arts Alive meeting. John McMurray emailed last night that the welding on the herring sculpture is complete and the steel fish will be delivered this weekend! Our committee still has a lot of prep work to do before the big event.

Scheduling everything (teaching, Lubec Arts Alive, Cobscook Pottery, garden....) it's like a well-choreographed dance!

Cobscook Pottery and Fiber Arts will be open this holiday weekend:
Saturday: 12-5, Sunday: 11-5, and Monday 10-5.

Other than that, it is by chance or appointment. Look for the open sign or give us a call. Look up Cobscook Pottery on facebook and
like" us - I'll try to keep current with posting weekly hours at that site.

Fish and Power Tools

2011-05-15T04:04:00.000-07:00

Herring sculpture for Lubec Arts Alive 2011 in the beginning stages with templates

Jean Bookman using the Jigsaw to cut fish from the large board
(photo by John McMurray)

Sheryl Denbo beginning stage 1 of the fine-tuning with a Bandsaw

Shanna Wheelock using a Scroll Saw for the precision work

Shanna cleaning up the edges of the fish with a power sander
(photo by John McMurray)

Jean Bookman drilling holes through the fish

John McMurray, Sheryl Denbo, and Jean Bookman working on placement of the "school of fish" within the larger steel structure.

John and Jean consult about whether or not to "rough-up" the steel herring frame, or polish it to a shimmer.

One of John McMurrary's many sculptures at his home in Addison.

Men have traditionally had the market on jobs with power tools. We are inundated with Home Depot and Sears commercials at Christmas-time showing the male species making their wish list for Santa: bandsaws and drills, shop vacs, routers, planers, and tool kits. Surely machinery that whirs and sputters and makes such loud noises, that is perched on grandiose pedestals of steel and sports masculine streamline designs in red, orange, and black is untouchable by the dainty hand of a lady. We revere the carpenter "knight-in-shining-armor" who saunters into our space and with a push of a red "ON" button slices through wood like butter to create beautiful and functional cabinetry and walls.

Women just don't know what they're missing.

Yesterday I, along with two other Lubec Arts Alive committee members, traveled down the coast to Addison, Maine where we worked alongside sculptor John McMurray to prep for this summers Lubec Arts Alive event.

John graciously welcomed us into his studio where he taught us how to properly use the power tools to cut and refine the smaller components of a large kinetic sculpture. Brave man!

The project, a 10' wide steel herring with an interior kinetic school of fish, was designed on paper by Jean Bookman for this year's Lubec Arts Alive event (July 5-8). The LAA committee consulted with longtime accomplished kinetic artist John McMurray who is versed in working with metals. John hails from an interesting and impressive background, having spent much of his youth in Africa then adulthood as an arts and physics instructor for a private school.

Prior to our Addisson adventure yesterday, John fabricated the steel fish frame and "attempted to neaten" his overflowing studio space in the barn for his mentoring duties. Walking into his work space is like a tour through a tornado-struck eclectic museum of tools and whirly-gigs. Around every tiny bend of the slender floor path there are delights of flying machines, antique tools, and remnants of sculptures that never made it onto the wooded art-walk. Classical music fills the space, as well as copious amounts of floating dust, walls of photos, and piles of metal and wood scraps. To an assemblage artist such as John, all junk and scrap is sacred and brimming with potential.

Jean, Sheryl, and I were a bit hesitant at first to pick up the first tool and begin the cutting. But once we got started, we were ripping through the board at a good pace and each of us found our groove shortly after lunch. No fingers were lost and the sculpture is looking incredible!

We ended our day with a walk on the grounds: a beautiful seaside outdoor gallery filled with the aesthetic delights of nature and sculpture.

If you are looking for something fun to do this summer, definitely consider visiting Lubec Maine during our bicentennial celebration. Festivities begin a few days before July 4th, and Lubec Arts Alive will occur between July 5-8. The first two days of the LAA event we invite all to join us in painting the small fish that will reside inside the large steel herring sculpture. The fish will be mounted inside the steel frame and will twirl and flutter in the wind. The sculpture will be permanently housed downtown, outdoors at Lubec landmarks near the skinning shed museum.

I'll be updating the Lubec Arts Alive website soon - so be sure to check back there for event info.
http://lubecartsalive.blogspot.com/

And other info if visiting Lubec this summer...
http://www.visitlubecmaine.com/

http://www.lubecme.govoffice2.com/

The pottery cave is heating up as I type. My Cobscook Pottery shop will open for the season on memorial weekend - and there is lots to be done! I haven't thrown in months and am looking forward to my time at the wheel.

In the meantime, I have left a tool catalog for Santa. I know it is a bit premature, but you know, the holidays do sneak upon us. That scroll saw and band saw sure would look mighty nice in my studio!

THANK YOU to this year's main sponsors of Lubec Arts Alive: Bar Harbor Bank and Trust and the Regional Medical Center at Lubec. We are fortunate, also, to have on board photographers Judith Goodman and Frank van Riper, who will photograph the event as they have so beautifully done each year past. Without community support, these projects would not be possible! Our sponsorship campaign just kicked-off. Thank you in advance to all the wonderful financial donors and volunteers! We couldn't do it without you!

To donate, send checks made out to Lubec Arts Alive at:
Lubec Arts Alive
c/o Jean Bookman
473 South Lubec Rd.
Lubec, ME 04652

Grass for Sarah

2011-05-08T04:09:00.000-07:00

Grass for Sarah

Woven copper and wool, copper tubing, linen warp
by Shanna Wheelock, 2011

The last few weeks have rolled by quickly with a multitude of deadlines and long drives, thus my absence from blog world. Time is always shorter than the list of things to get done, it seems. I am breathing a bit easier now, though, since my MFA semester work has been passed-in. The long drive back from Kennebunk last weekend offered hours of reflection on accomplishments, gratitude, and goals.

While on the road I was able to visit family and spend a day in Portland enjoying art and some slow-paced browsing. If you are in that neck of the woods definitely check out the biennial show at the Portland Museum of Art. I thought it was one of the best that I had seen.

Over the next couple weeks or so I will post two new sculptures, but for now, will begin with a woven work that has had me on a journey of discovering information about one of my ancestors: my great-grandmother Sarah. The last blog entry that I wrote three weeks ago outlined some of my experiences during this quest.

The discovery that Sarah was a weaver who had a deep reverence for nature inspired the piece pictured above. From the tidbits of information that I found in the New York Times, she was working with grass on crash fiber. It was considered a new and interesting material choice for her. I decided, for my own piece, to focus on the word "grass" and to weave with a new material that I had not used before: copper wire. I am not certain what "crash" is, but from the definition that I found, it sounded similar to linen warp string.

Throughout the whole process, I felt my great-grandmother's presence. I imagined what colors she would have chosen, or how she would have ordered the 25 individual panels that were eventually pieced together. I wondered if copper ever had significance for her being a jeweler. She lived on a plantation with sheep. Did she use wool from those in her own weaving work? Did she help her husband Henry sheer the sheep? And did she then card and spin that wool? Were her hands as sore as mine after a day of weaving?

Each day I would finish a component of the work but each day I still did not know how the tapestry would end up in its final concoction. The mystery unfolded only after moving through numerous transformations. Eventually the panels formed long strips of green and copper that flowed from a frame of copper tubing.

"Grass for Sarah" became more than just woven panels spliced together. Emotions were intense and in talking about the process and why certain decisions were made, Chris said to me that they way I described the piece sounded like a "Transformation Tapestry."

I started making "Transformation Tapestries" in 2007 after my Nana died. The tapestry, made with her clothing, was a venue for grief resolution as well as a commemoration and celebration of her life. Since then, I have made others, not only to represent the deceased, but other life transitions as well.

I felt that "Grass for Sarah" was guided by Sarah's spirit, through my hands, as a Transformation Tapestry in honor of her daughter Amy, who drowned only a few months before Sarah herself died. I thought of how Sarah was an incredibly strong woman, having lost two children but still managing to raise two others and still continue to progress as an artist. She must have spent many of her days with a deep sadness, and at the time of Amy's death, I thought that perhaps she had not yet fully processed that loss when her own death occurred.

Finishing "Grass for Sarah" was one of those big exhale moments. The process had consumed my thoughts since the morning of April 1st, and the physical labor demanded over one hundred twenty hours, the bulk of which was input during April vacation. There were lots of cuts and scrapes and sore fingers and moments of "starting over". There are at least 11 panels that did not make it onto the final piece and the frame was built three times. But all was a necessary part of the process and nuggets of ideas have been sparked for future pieces.

The song by John Hiatt, "Through Your Hands" makes me think of my journey with "Grass for Sarah", and also of all the other incredible things that come from our hands - from a child's art, to penning a poem, playing a musical instrument, building a house, healing, loving, baking, planting.......

powerful to think how our hands are conduits for the creative thoughts and ideas that come from our souls....

Trying on Some New Genes

2011-04-17T04:21:00.001-07:00

These illustrations are by my great-grandmother Sarah.

"The Book of Grasses: An Illustrated Guide to the Common Grasses, and the Most Common of Rushes and Sedges"
Written by Mary Evans Franics, Illustrated by HH Knight, Arthur G. Eldredge, and Sarah Francis Dorrance
1912, Doubleday, Page and Company, Garden City, New York.
(1920 reprint has the author listed as Mary Francis Baker?)

This is the only photo that my mother has of Sarah.
I'm not sure what year this was taken, or of her age in the photo.

Bello has found a new spot to sleep while I am weaving.
Yes, he's a big boy!

Smaller components of a larger work in progress, wool and copper wire. Sarah's photo is pinned to the wall for inspiration.

I had an epiphanic moment about two weeks ago, and my thoughts have been consumed since by a desire to dig deep into family roots and to find answers that have been missing for years.

For weeks I have been lacking inspiration for a weaving project. I had been obsessed with the factory sculpture and a deadline for some sort of tapestry was looming. Each day that passed, anxiety built because I just couldn't come up with something new that would be different than what I had done in the past.

On a snowy April Fool's morning, due to school cancellation, I had the luxury to move at a slower-than-normal pace. I eventually sauntered out of bed and when I looked in the mirror I felt that I was looking at a stranger, though the face felt quite familiar. I thought I resembled someone who might have lived in the 1920's. Then it came to me that I was "looking" at my great-grandmother Sarah.

Sarah has always been somewhat of a mystery to me. We knew very little of her life and over the years have pieced together the tiniest tidbits of information. The family story is long and complex but I will try to explain in simplified form, and in a respectful manner, why we know so little of her.

Sarah is my maternal great-grandmother. She was the mother of my mother's father, whom I called Grampa Sam. Grampa Sam was only eighteen when his parents died. Sarah and my great-grandfather Henry's car was struck by a train in Plainfield, Connecticut, in 1924. Only a few months before, Sarah's sixteen year old daughter, Amy, had drown, and in 1912 her one-year-old baby Sarah had died. The eldest sibling, Joanna, lived until the early 1960's, never married or with child.

Over the years, Grampa Sam told my mother stories that he remembered of his mother, but they were few. When he was a sick child and quarantined, Sarah, who loved nature, found a way to sneak him out into the gardens. She was an artist: a painter and a jewelry designer who worked for Tiffany's of New York. Her father was a minister, and she had an intense interest in genealogy. She was on return from a genealogy conference in Boston, where she was a speaker, when Henry had just picked her up from the train station shortly before they collided with a train.

When my grandfather died in the mid 1990's, we went to Connecticut for his burial. At that time, we first met Merle, a distant cousin to Grampa Sam's father. Merle's family, as I understand, sort of watched over my grandfather after his parents died. During this brief visit, Merle gave me a simple tall, thin, clear handblown glass that Sarah had once kept her paintbrushes in, telling me that Sarah would want me to have it as I too was an artist.

I have held on to that glass for years. In fact, that morning I looked in the mirror and saw Sarah in my own face, I had just moments before taken one of my own paintbrushes out of Sarah's glass to use for a project.

The last time I tried to research Sarah was in the mid 1990's after my grandfather's passing. I wrote a letter to Tiffany's & Co. to see if they kept record of their designers. A response came back to me that a search would cost a few hundred dollars. I didn't have that kind of money and let it go. I always held onto, though, that my great grandmother was an artist and perhaps that is in part why I am as well. Maybe, I thought, it was in the family genes.

But I always felt a bit of a disconnect in that I really wasn't a painter. My mom is a painter, and my sister a jeweler, so that made sense, as I had always heard Sarah described as a painter and jewelry designer. But where was my connection?

Even though it seemed a longshot, I decided to do an internet search for info about my great-grandmother. I was surprised that her name did indeed show-up. She was listed as an illustrator for a book about grasses. Without hesitation, I ordered the 1912 book sight unseen and listed as "condition unknown."

I continued the search and to my surprise, once more, I found her in a 1904 New York Times article in the Modern Arts and Crafts section - Objects of Applied Arts by American and Foreign Artisans.

"An interesting vein is being worked in textiles by Mrs. Sarah Francis Dorrance, who is known for her quiet, tasteful work in basketry. She uses native grasses to weave designs on crash, and produces individual work of a gentle, unobtrusive kind."

A weaver. Sarah was a weaver.

I finally found my connection. Is this why I was so taken with weaving from the first moment I held a loom?

Everything changed for me in that moment. Inspiration returned at the thought of Sarah trying something new with her weaving. And from there, a flood of other questions. Did she spend time in New York? Where did she grow up? When was her birthday? Was she also a potter? Which artists did she admire? Did she weave tapestries? What is her ancestry?

My mother told me that she thought I looked like Sarah, though Grampa Sam used to say that I reminded him of his sister Amy who had drown and who he was very close to. Either way, I now have another connection in that I physically resemble my ancestors.

is this what it is like for someone who is adopted? To feel that desire to know their biological roots? To wonder who they look like, or why they have a certain unexplained habit or fondness for a particular art, music, or some other talent?

I have continued my search, and found a second NYT article from 1900 that mentions Sarah as showing her baskets in a show under the Arts and Crafts Guild of New York. I also hold dear the book of grasses that finally arrived in the mail. Each drawing a piece of my great-grandmother. I also find myself amused that she signs each of her drawings with her initials in a manner that resembles the chop signature that I use on my clay pieces.

The search continues, feeling a sudden passion for genealogy, as Sarah once had.

I will close with a quote from the introduction of the book, so beautifully and poetically written that it brought me to tears as I read it yesterday. I am not sure how exactly Mary Evans Francis is related, but I am sure that she must be, sharing the maiden name of my great-grandmother. I am filled with anticipation as I "climb" the family tree searching for answers.

"Grasses yield us the earliest intimations of spring, as a faint flush of green, in harmony with the soft colours of the April woods, tinges the brown hillsides before snows have ceased. The first grasses are more delicately coloured than are those of midsummer when the sun burns red and purple into the tiny flowers. The green spikelets of many spring grasses depend for colour upon their lightly poised anthers of lavender and gold."

"The Book of Grasses: An Illustrated Guide to the Common Grasses, and the Most Common of Rushes and Sedges" Written by Mary Evans Franics, Illustrated by HH Knight, Arthur G. Eldredge, and Sarah Francis Dorrance, 1912, Doubleday, Page and Company, Garden City, New York.

Update: The inscription in the book reads "To S.E.F.D." (Sarah Evans Francis Dorrance) So the new line of thought is that the author, Mary Evans Francis, is either a mother, aunt, or sister to my great-grandmother Sarah.

Arts=Elevated Economy

2011-04-11T12:55:00.001-07:00

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

Diversions

2011-04-10T03:12:00.000-07:00

Peace Lily
(component of a current sculpture that has since been painted-over to be a more subtle statement....see photo below)

MX Missile (a.k.a. Peacekeeper)
by Shanna Wheelock
in progress

"window books" for MX Missile sculpture
(in progress)

People live their lives within the comfort of their routines and then one day, unexpectedly, something happens in an instant that forever changes life as they have come to know it. When I am witness to these cataclysms, I find myself thanking the universe repeatedly for the bounty of my life.

The past few days in the studio have been an intense time of reflection. What I have noticed is that every part of our lives seems to be like this. We are on a path and we think we know where that path will lead. We make decisions based on the expected final outcome. No matter how much one feels prepared, it is only an illusion.

Even the most minute of decisions seems to be out of our hands. Driving down a road you expect to continue in a straight line on your own side. Then a chipmunk scurries from the dirt onto the tar and you have to turn the wheel, tapping the brake and temporarily slowing as you do so. Moments later a truck runs a stop sign and your vehicle just misses clipping the back side of that vehicle. If you had been one second further down the road, you would have crashed.

Even if only slightly, one-second of slowing-down is a diversion from the intended path. Or was the intended path to not crash? What is the consequence of the sum of these tiny diversions?

This past week has been emotionally-charged as I have witnessed those around me experience painful upheavals and grief. As removed as I may be, in the whole scope of things, I feel their pain on what is a comparatively miniscule level.

Sometimes, after the dust settles and we catch our breath again, we can see that beauty unfolds from the pain. Perhaps other lives are granted from one's loss. Perhaps a person's story inspires another to do great things. Perhaps the end of a relationship sets a person back on the path they were once on and thought maybe to never return.

Times like these, I am so grateful for the gift of being an artist, for having the outlet to express my innermost emotions. I am grateful that I have an awareness of the power of art and that no matter how horrible things may seem all around me, that in the moment, in that metaphysical space, all feels alright, focused, tunneled, and safe.

I end this blog today feeling like there is so much more to say, but I feel pulled to be in the studio. My inner-voice is pleading to manifest through symbols in wax, clay and paint.

It's best I go when called.

Maine is Still a "Wicked Good" State!

2011-04-03T03:51:00.000-07:00

Factory
Detail from current sculpture that is in progress (completion expected this month!)
by Shanna Wheelock

That there is REAL snow!
April Fool's Day 2011 Nor'Easter

"The morning after"

Maine has been in the news a lot lately. I know what you are thinking....that snowstorm on April Fool's Day must have been a joke. But no, it wasn't. The state was pretty much enveloped by the white stuff and our school, like many others, was closed. Yes indeed, a snow day in April.

Sadly, the other media attention that Maine has been getting is not a joke either (oh how I wish it was!!!)

By only 38% of the vote, Paul LePage was elected governor of our state. He took office three months ago and since that time has continued to stir controversy with his demeaning language and archaic "roll-back-the-progress" approach.

I am proud to live in Maine, an environmental gem of a state, full of pride, hard workers, and a rich history in the arts. Even with all the hoopla that folks are seeing in the national news, I hope they remember that Maine is more than this one person on a power-trip who is seemingly trying to tear us down.

I have lived here all my life except for one year in the south. The one year that I spent away from my birth-state, I longed to return. Luckily, my California-blooded, philosopher/poet-husband was on-board with the move northeast. No regrets, and we count our blessings everyday to live in a place that is so majestically beautiful.

Here are some of Maine's highlights:

Mountains, fields, lakes, rivers, forests, ocean, desert, bogs, islands .....Hiking, fishing, skiing, kayaking, camping....museums, galleries, theaters, live music.....spring, summer, fall, winter....music and art festivals, county fairs....fine dining and "wicked good" diners....shopping (malls or quaint downtowns)....

And most importantly...a diverse and interesting mix of people who openly share their cultures and passions.

Maine lures people from all types of backgrounds. The inspiration found in the natural environment, as well as osmosis from being around other cool folks, brings us here and keeps us here.

Our state boasts an impressive list of artists, both past and present. Visit the Portland Museum of Art, Farnsworth Art museum, or any number of galleries to view historical master works and work by the up-and-comers.

To name just a few of the visual artists who have found inspiration in Maine:

Andrew Wyeth, Neil Welliver, Marseden Hartley, Louise Nevelson, Edward Hopper, Winslow Homer, George Bellows, Rockwell Kent, Fairfield Porter, and Georgia O'Keeffe.

If you want to view some of the contemporary works by artists who are creating here, visit the PMA biennial this spring. I am especially excited to see the work of two artists in this exhibit whom I admire: my former sculpture professor from USM, Michael Shaughnessy, and my current mentor in my MFA program at Heartwood College of Art, Kim Bernard.

And now let me tell you why I am so damn proud, more so than ever, to be an artist in Maine.

When LePage took it upon himself to remove Judy Taylor's mural about the labor history in Maine from the Department of Labor, artists spoke-up, loudly!

I am grateful to Natasha Mayers and Robert Shetterly for helping to organize the movement to return the mural to its intended home, for bridging the arts community with other workplace and cultural organizations, for working tirelessly to "right" LePage's wrongdoing, and for inspiring so many others to have a voice and to fight for what they believe in.

LePage has attacked on several fronts, but this time he picked a fight with the wrong group of folks. Most people who know artists know of their intelligence, ability to conjure creative solutions, intense passion, heightened sense of ethics, justice, pride, and empathy for humanity. Top this off with resiliency and a steadfast streak of tenacity...and you have a recipe for a movement that can, and will, put our state back on course.

Like so many other places in our world right now, Maine people are rising-up to preserve dignity and pride; in the workplace, in the home, in our souls. It's a battle worth fighting, and we won't give up!

Press-Conference and Rally to Return the Labor Mural
Monday, April 4, 2011, 12:00 p.m. noon
Hall of Flags, State House, Augusta, Maine
for an impressive list of speakers go to: http://mainelabormural.blogspot.com/2011/04/update-to-sponsors-and-speakers-april-4_02.html

Links:
Labor Mural official website
Draw-a-thon Blog
Maine's Majority Website

Censorship in Maine

2011-03-26T04:51:00.000-07:00

Panels 7 though 9 of Judy Taylor's Maine Department of Labor Mural
Click this link to go directly to Taylor's website that depicts and explains all 11 panels of the mural.

Follow this link to read an article about yesterday's gathering at the Maine Department of Labor.

"Lost Childhood"
The second panel of Taylor's MDOL mural

Follow this link for press-conference statements and updates on the mural situation at the official "Saving the History of Maine Mural" blog site.

Bangor Daily News Poll found that 4 out of 5 Mainers do NOT want the mural removed from its intended home!

Maine is in the news, and it is, once again, an embarrassment to the majority of people who reside here. The recently elected governor has decided that a mural which is displayed at the Maine Department of Labor is to be removed becasue it is, he says, "one-sided" and "pro-union".

Yesterday, 250-300 people gathered at the Dept. of Labor for a press-conference and rally in support of keeping the mural at its current location, where it was originally intended when commissioned by the state in 2007. For an explanation of the mural, please visit the artist's website. The painting is steeped in Maine's labor history, and all images were created only after intense and thoughtful research alongside seasoned labor union historian, Charles Scontras.

The press-conference yesterday was especially powerful as it fell on the 100 year anniversary of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire (March 25, 2011). In a room of hundreds, there was silence, except for the sound of a bell as over 120 names were spoken of the young female workers who died in the fire. In total, 146 people died and it is considered the deadliest industrial disaster in New York. The Triangle fire was a catalyst for modern day saftey regualations that keep our workers safe.

Below are the statements that Chris and I made at the gathering yesterday. I wish I had transcripts of the other speaker's statements as they were incredibly powerful and excellent reminders of of how fortunate we are to live in a democratic society with the benefits that ALL people reap, not just members of unions, because of the battles that labor unions have fought.

Thank you Natasha and Robert for your passion, insight and dedication!!!!

Shanna's statement at the MDOL Mural press-conference:

When I first heard that Taylor’s Department of Labor mural would be dismantled, I was, like many, angered. The impending action brought up images of censorship and fear of a dangerous slippery slope where voices are quelled to the point of living in a society where humans are expected to go about their day as emotionless as robots.

What makes this mural so powerful, and so relevant, is that not only does it tell a history of the working people of Maine, but that it has provoked a conversation; one that is quite poignant in today’s society.

The Governor ordered removal of this mural because of complaints about its pro-union theme. Where better to house a mural depicting the struggle of the working class and the rise above adversity than in a complex where the welfare of its state’s workers is the number one priority?

I ask myself, is the subject of this mural offensive?

The answer is: YES!

Child labor is offensive. The fact that people have to fight for safe and fair work conditions is offensive. Treating humans in less than a dignified manner is offensive.

We should ALL be offended that not everyone finds these things offensive.

Then I ask myself: Is this artwork powerful and inspiring?

And that answer is YES!

I see a story unfolding from the first panel where an apprentice passes down his skills to another, preserving a trade. I see a panel of child laborers and am filled with such relief that our children are able to receive an education rather than toil the days away in a factory. I see women who model strength and perseverance, and I see people uniting for a cause worth fighting.

As we reflect today on the 100 year anniversary of the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory Fire, let us remember that a movement was sparked that made way for safer and more fair work conditions for all. One hundred forty six workers died in that fire. Imagine where we would be today if that part of history was erased from the books, never to teach us, or remind us, the role that the working class has played in our society.

Artists use a visual language to document the stories of our lives. We must always remember the struggles, why we were there, and how we progressed, so that we do not repeat these atrocities again, and that we keep moving forward, toward positive change.

Chris Crittenden's statement at the MDOL Mural press-conference

In a travesty of governance, Paul LePage has belittled and dismissed some of the brightest aspects of Maine's history. In deference to a "handful" of unnamed detractors, who object to some few elements of a visually eloquent compendium, the Governor has opted to dismantle the entire magnum opus, a mural in homage to labor on display at the Dept. of Labor. The artistic excellence of this masterpiece is not in dispute.

As a metaphor, we can imagine a handful of privileged men, who walk into a garden, proclaiming that they do not like several of the flowers. In response, over the shock of the gardner and the general populus, every single flower in the garden is plucked up. The garden itself is carved and removed.

The few flowers that are offensive to this small group, in reality represent some of the brightest victories for dignity in human history.

For most of civilization, slavery reigned. After slavery came Dickensian work conditions. We can thank the Labor Movement for uplifting the American people out of horrific industrial sweatshops, what William Blake referred to as "dark Satanic mills."

LePage and a blinkered few to whom he caters, are attempting to obscure the heroes who ended the practice of children having to toil in crowded, unsafe rooms.

LePage and an influential cadre, are attempting to efface those brave and unquenchable souls who brought us the 40-hour work week and the weekend. The word "efface" means to rub out or erase. Etymologically, it literally means to remove the face from. To deprive of a face.

This is crass censorship at its worst. An attack on a history rich with moral pearls. LePage would crush those pearls and replace them with a brine of obeisance to the lowest considerations, the sad and unsupportable principle of "Money Makes Right."

Paths

2011-03-20T04:50:00.000-07:00

It's been a tough week in the news. I'm experiencing a bit of emotional overload, between the developing nuclear crisis and devastation in Japan to the situation in Libya. It was only a few short weeks ago that we celebrated a major success in Egypt. The world is moving and changing at a rapid rate. I don't remember a time in my life when everything felt so critical on our planet all at once, but Chris points out to me that the 1980's were equally unsettled. I was a young teen then, and though I was becoming aware of the world around me, I was still engrossed in my own life and the joys and tragedies that accompanied young love and trying to make the grade in school. But a seed was planted that has been growing for two and half decades.

I was a kid who questioned everything. I wasn't the type of rebel who could be found in detention every day afterschool. I was more of a philosophical rebel. From a young age I questioned the church, denied the safety of nuclear energy, and was the only teen amongst of a group of seasoned activists in "Beyond War" meetings.

Does anyone remember the video by Genesis, Land of Confusion?

Even though I didn't quite understand all that was happening around me, the video definitely struck a chord. On one level, I found it humorous. On another level I thought "what a sad world we live in". I was a senior in high school when it first aired on MTV. The images and lyrics from that video has stuck with me for all these years. It is a testament to how powerful the arts are (music in this case) and how what we put out there for the public to view, read, or hear has perhaps a much greater impact than most realize.

Little by little, I was receiving an "education" that coupled knowledge with my instinctual self. Four years after the video, while I was in college, a marine friend sent me letters from the front lines of "Operation Desert Storm". I didn't understand fully why the U.S. military was over there. I just knew that anything that put my friend's life in danger didn't seem right. Some of my artwork in college began to illustrate my thoughts around war and peace.

After college, my work took another turn. I began to focus on matters of spirit and myth. The work was more gentle in nature and fed my soul at a deep level. I retreated from reading the newspaper or listening to too much news. I focused solely on empowerment through spiritual enlightenment. Those few years felt blissful in many ways. There was a price in that I adopted an intentional ignorance to avoid that which was painful. These years were crucial, though, in helping me to develop a strong sense of self. Maybe it was kind of like creating a spiritual armor that in later years would protect me from the ugliness and pain that surrounds us, much of it brought on by fellow humans.

My work the past four years has come full circle. I started questioning at an early age, and now my art is once again focused on social/political matters. This time though, I feel that the spiritual component is always underneath the surface, urging me to create with empathy and hope, from a kind and understanding space. I recognize that not all issues, or answers, are as simple as we might first think. I realize that the world has an energy crisis and that less than safe measures may seem the only feasible choice. I realize that even though sweatshop conditions are inhumane, that for some it is a price perceived as worthy because the money feeds a family. I realize that war is horrible and disgusting but at times has been fought to genuinely save a people from concentration camps, or in the case with Lybia, to save people from being murdered by their own government.

The bigger issues we face are seldom black and white. There are always shades of grey, and through my art, I am able to explore the varied sides.

When it comes down to it, when a situation is not easily rectified, or if the answers seem unclear, I have chosen to side with what I consider to be the humane choices. So while the thought process may be long and drawn out, and there are shades of grey, I (as most people) eventually come up with a simplified "this way or that way." But, I always recognize that there are other viewpoints. The key is learning how express a viewpoint that opens a productive dialogue rather than one that is done to deafly incite anger with no intention of trying to understand another's viewpoint.

The path I am taking with my art, at this point in my life, is one that I hope does send a message. I hope to teach people about a viewpoint that they may not have previously considered. It doesn't mean that a viewer has to agree with me. I only ask that people that instead of coming to an immediate conclusion about what is "right" that they stop a moment to consider all sides of a situation. This sort of thought process is essential to developing empathy. And empathy for our fellow human being, the earth, the animals...is what I sincerely feel can turn this world around.

We are powerful. There is a conscious choice that we make collectively between living in a world of fear and hatred or a world of love and safety.

Which do you choose?

These lyrics filter through my head often, stirring my emotions as I struggle to find a balance between awareness of what is going on in our world with genuine hope for a better life for all. I choose to visualize that love and beauty prevail, even when life seems so defeating.

In Time We Forget

2011-03-13T06:40:00.000-07:00

A clear, easy to understand video about the Chernobyl nuclear disaster and the long term effects it has had on the region and its people.

Today I count my blessings, more so than others. I am home, I am safe, and I know that, at this moment, the ones I love most dearly are healthy and safe as well. I have clean water to drink, warm shelter, and air that I can breathe without worry of radiation poisoning. My home is not crumbled to the ground or floated out to sea. I know where my relatives are and they are easily reachable by phone if I desire peace-of-mind to know that they are okay.

I imagine that the people who live in Japan affected by Friday's Earthquake and Tsunami felt the same way as I do, only seconds before tragedy struck. In a matter of moments, as we all know, life can change.

To survive Friday's record-breaking earthquake was the first feat. As if that wasn't already devastating enough, a Tsunami soon hit that wiped away homes, businesses, airports, roads, and people. The death toll grows each hour, some estimates now at 10,000. The ballooning number of dead is reminiscent of other recent natural disasters that kept us glued to the television set or live newspaper feeds: New Orleans, Haiti, Indonesia. We watch in horror as stories unfold, our hearts sinking while we empathize with those faces who are injured, grieving, and walking around with a sense of deep loss and fear of an unknown future.

Those who survived the earthquake and the tsunami have yet a third possible disaster knocking at their door: Nuclear Meltdown.

A major nuclear power plant in Fukushima has been overheating and leaking radiation for three days and recent news reports say that a meltdown is likely in progress. It's hard to exactly define what a meltdown is, other than an extreme overheating that causes, as far as I can tell, the unit that houses nuclear materials to begin melting thus releasing the inside deadly poisons.

Already, citizens within a 12 mile radius of the power plant have been evacuated. But, if a true meltdown occurs, the consequences will be far reaching beyond a 25 mile wide stretch.

Recently, under the Obama administration, billions of dollars have been allocated for research into growing our nuclear power power facilities in the United States.

Billions of dollars.

Cost alone, and the fact that we could actually be investing that money into SAFE renewable energy research and resources, has me reeling. Add the disregard for human safety, and it is downright heinous.

As people of Japan face the terror of a possible meltdown, maybe we should ask them if they think that nuclear energy is the way to go.

Or, ask someone who survived the Chernobyl disaster, someone who watched loved ones die or whose children and grandchildren have suffered unimaginable illnesses and birth defects.

It's amazing how we have so conveniently chosen to forget the tragedies associated with nuclear power. Three Mile Island was a scare in the late 70's, and Chernobyl was the mother of all Nuclear disasters. (Could this soon change?) We are told that a Chernobyl-like incident won't occur because of new fail-safe precautions. I bet the residents of Japan were told this same thing, with an impressive 6" inch steel encasement "preventing any possibility of a meltdown."

Well, those who were on board the Titanic were told it would never sink.....

I became passionate about nuclear power during my 7th grade history class with Mr. Hutchinson. Nuclear power was a hot topic with the then-operating Maine Yankee. I chose to do a research paper on the subject and remember interviewing a Central Maine Power employee. He was absolutely insistent that our nuclear power plant provide cost-effective safe energy to the people of Maine. Despite his best arguments, at twelve years old I didn't buy it, and I still don't at forty-one.

The Chernobyl disaster occurred April 26, 1986. Pripyat, a city once inhabited by approximately 50,000 people, is today, in 2011, a ghost town with radiation levels far exceeding any level of normalcy by thirty-fold. The original radioactive plume drifted over large parts of the Soviet Union as well as parts of Eastern, Western, and Northern Europe. Over 1,000 humans died in the incident , over 336,000 survivors were resettled, and cancer and birth defects continued to rise dramatically with biological changes occurring at a chromosonal level. Soon after, 45 kilometers of forest turned red and died, and is today known as the "Red Forest". Animals died and suffered, became infertile, or if survived, produced offspring with numerous defects.

The last reactor at Chernobyl was shut down in 2000. Ultimately, 4,000 people are estimated to have died as a direct result of the incident due to cancer deaths.

Maine Yankee in Wiscasset demolished its reactor in 2004. It was a day to be celebrated. Still, though, years later, nucelar waste exists and the question remains; what do we do with it?

Two things for my readers to take from this post today:

1) Count your blessings.

2) Is nuclear power the best long-term energy solution if it means sacrificing peace-of-mind and wellbeing for ourselves and generations of loved ones?

Article about possible meltdown and current radiation exposure status (as of 1:14 p.m. EST 3/13/11)

Heartwood College of Art and Colored Porcelain

2011-03-03T09:21:00.000-08:00

Colored Porcelain, fired pieces
by artist Karen Orsillo

Karen Orsillo demonstrates the "scallop pattern" technique

My first colored porcelain piece in greenware form
Colors will intensify when fired (see Karen's examples at top of page)

Colored porcelain slab vessel in greenware stage
by Shanna Wheelock

I've been a student in the MFA program at Heartwood College of Art for almost a year and a half. The low-residency, part-time masters program is a unique educational opportunity in Maine. I had been searching for such a program for several years, one that would feed my soul as an artist and a teacher while allowing me to continue to live and work in my own little nook downeast. The program is perfect for educators and I feel fortunate to be in a pod with my art-teaching colleagues, though the program is equally satisfying for those who are not teachers. It is not an online program, rather "low-residency" which means that the time we spend on campus is consolidated into short but intensive weekends. I carry a two-class load and am generally on campus two weekends a semester: one three-day "weekend seminar" and an end-of-semester one-day presentation. In between weekend meetings, I keep in constant contact with my mentors and advisers. This allows students to work toward their degree while keeping up with their normal workplace responsibilities in their hometowns. At Heartwood, MFA candidates hail from all over the country. Some fly-in for their weekend intensives, others endure the lengthy hours-long drive like me. But it's all worth it.

I had looked into the popular MFA programs at Portland School of Art and Vermont College of Fine Arts. These programs both proved to be prohibitive for me for two reasons: cost and time required on campus. Even though they are both low-residency models, and excellent programs, they moved along at a full-time rate and required more than I could offer while working full-time. At my first art teaching job in central Maine, teachers were required by contract to have their Masters degree within five years. At that time I worried because no program existed that fit my specialty area and needs. Those programs would have required me to miss several weeks of work each year. Heartwood College of Art really did tap into the the needs of the working artist, creating a program that filled a niche for art teachers, at a reasonable per-credit hour cost. If this program had existed when I was first teaching, I would have hopped on board immediately.

Heartwood College of Art is a small school in comparison to the bigger city art colleges, but that has proved perfect for me. Set in beautiful Kennebunk, Heartwood plays host to a myriad of professional art studio spaces: ceramics, painting, drawing, fiber arts, sculpture, metals, printmaking, photography, etc. The staff is incredibly personable and working closely with professors and advisers, I feel validated in who I am as an artist. With pods, I have had the opportunity to build close relationships with my peers, mentors, and advisers, and that understanding of one another allows for open dialogues that nurture each student along his or her personal learning path. The way we learn and are treated is an excellent model for how I, as a teacher, choose to work with my own students.

I read an article earlier today in an online science digest about happiness and success. It stated that spirituality is more important than religion in the development of these two things in a child. It did not specify specific spiritual paths, but rather the qualities that accompany a spiritual path - specifically the building of self-esteem through self-awareness. I have always stated that the most important work that I do as a teacher, the greatest gift I try to bestow upon my students, is a sense of self-esteem through the success and enjoyment that they encounter while creating works of art.

It is so refreshing to be part of a masters program where this is happening to me as well. Being a student again gives me new perspective, puts me in my students' shoes per say. I am reminded to always keep in mind the importance of what I am doing, both as an artist, and as a student. I am reminded that it is not always about creating a perfect finished piece, but about the journey we take while creating. In the process we filter through our own life experiences. Who we are is illustrated in our artwork. We may not recognize ourselves immediately in the work that we create, but eventually we start to read the images the way we do a written biography. We decipher the symbols and clues and begin to have those ah-ha moments where the pieces of the puzzle fit together. I had this experience with the current sculpture that I am working on. At first, I didn't understand where the vision came from, but now, two months into the working phase, I am finding all kinds of correlations to my family's and my own life experiences. It really is an amazing feeling to begin to make sense of things in one's own life. Art is the perfect vehicle for this.

Recently I attended the spring semester weekend intensive at Heartwood. The weekends are broken down into different activities including critiques, discussion groups, lectures, and an all-day workshop where we learn new skills that can be applied in our work as artists and teachers. I love all parts of the seminar and though the weekend leaves one exhausted from the packed-pace, it is also highly inspiring. This spring, we had the honor to learn colored porcelain techniques from master artist Karen Orsillo.

Colored porcelain technique involves wedging stain powders into the clay. Once thoroughly mixed, clay is stacked in varied patterns and sliced. Then, the process is repeated until desired patterns are accomplished. The finished pattern blocks are then sliced into thinner panels which can be used for handbuilding. Sometimes the patterned slabs are inlaid into other clays, sometimes they are simply formed as-is. The process requires a delicate hand to attain a certain level of precision. But as Karen said, almost anything you do looks awesome! It is a bit tricky deciding on color combinations as the stains in powder form translate differently when fired. Such is the case with most ceramic glazes, too. For example, the dark blue stain is pink in its raw powder form. The slab platter that I made, as well as the taller vessel, (see photos above) will not be pastel after a cone 8 oxidation firing. Rather, they will be a bold combination of black, rutile, dark blue, and green. What's extra nifty about this high fire process is that the clay is vitrified when fired to temp, meaning that it is water-tight. No glaze is required unless one desires a glossy surface for aesthetics.

I poked around on the web for colored clay sites and found some interesting work by an artist named Vince Pitelka. His architectural sculptures resonated with me, and he explains the process and materials well. It's worth a look!

It's good to be back to blogosphere. The last few weeks I have been preoccupied with other life happenings and look forward to soon jumping back into my artwork. I have been working on a couple new sculptures and plan to have them complete by May. Spring in hectic as my teaching responsibilities kick into high gear (more so than usual believe it or not!). If you are in Lubec, check out the mask show at Lubec Memorial Library, on display March and April. Folks have lent masks from their personal collections, as well as their own handmade pieces. Three of my felted masks are included as well as masks made by some of my 6th, 1st, and 2nd grade students. Grades 3 and 4 are making awesome paper mache masks right now. Unfortunately, they weren't finished for the exhibit deadline. I love masks!!!!

Out of the Snow and Into the Studio

2011-02-06T09:10:00.000-08:00

Got a wee bit of snow a few days ago...

Current sculpture in progress

This past week has kept me fairly focused in the studio. Yet another snow day allowed time to work on a new sculpture. This one, when finished, will reach over three feet tall and is quite hefty. Throwing and wedging the larger-than-usual clumps of clay left me fearing I had permanently damaged my stomach muscles, but a few days later all returned to normal, noting to myself that I better be a bit more careful next time!!!

Creating artwork is not always fun. Just like with any job, there are parts that you enjoy and there are parts that you despise. Not that I fully despise any part of working with clay, but there are definitely some things that are more "grunt work" than pleasurable. Wedging is always a source of discomfort. It is taxing on my shoulders and takes quite a bit of time to get all those unruly clumps and lumps back into a smooth, workable ball. With the current sculpture, I spent perhaps equal time researching and sketching as I did forming the structure. The part that I do love, though, is carving. This particular piece is carving-intensive so I was in all of my glory for a few hours while I toggled from tool to tool to get the look and feel of my vision. Now I wait (hope/pray) that it survives the kiln firing so that the next phase of the process may occur.

In between shoveling last week's storm, I spent hours holed-up in my "cave". Chris said to me that I must really have a passion for what I do when I am willing to spend several hours in a cold, damp, concreted space below the earth, and actually crave and enjoy it. I never thought of it like that before, but when you break it down, yeah, it is kinda strange.

Amazingly, I am comfortable in that space, engulfed in messy, dry clay dust and mounds. For someone who seeks the just-so feng shui feeling of a home space, it is kind of odd that I don't pay attention to the lack of "homeyness" in the basement. Maybe it has something to do with being in a space that is natural to clay; deep within the earthen underground. Or maybe I am just so enthralled by the project at hand that my peripheral vision ceases and I am completely zoned into the form that is before me.

I probably shouldn't try to hard to understand it all.

A bit of rain this morning sunk the snowy yard and has created a new ice rink. It's like last week's "Snowmageddon" never occurred. Chris narrowly averted the intense shoveling schedule, boasting of sunny skies and warm temps while taking his afternoon walk with his father in California. He somehow dodged all flight delays, once again, upon his return to Maine on Friday. Bello and I are glad to have him back home with us. Now, I'm just hoping for another massive snowstorm so that he may experience the endless shoveling as I did this past month. I wouldn't want him to feel left out of all the fun, afterall!

I have some things to tend to over the next two to three weeks and suspect that I will not have a chance to blog. If you don't see a post next time you check in, just keep checking back. All should return to the regular normally scheduled life routine by the end of the month.

Hope all you romantics out there have a memorable St. Valentine's Day! (or at least your fill of quality chocolate confections!!!!)

Snowy Winter Encourages Artistic Endeavors

2011-01-30T01:34:00.000-08:00

Last Thursday's storm brought another foot of the white stuff.

Teeny-tiny component of a much larger sculpture currently in progress.

Wheelthrown cylinders for a new sculpture in progress.

Kiln loaded and ready to fire.

It's been a snowy winter. No one will dispute that, not even those who live in the south. We have all had our share of it and it seems we can barely get shoveled out from one storm when another is forecasted on the way. This morning I had a "snow alert" in my inbox. Apparently we got another 4 inches of snow while I was snoozing, and last night the weatherwoman on WSCH news cheerfully alerted all the viewers here in downeast Maine that there is a "potential for significant snowfall mid week" with the next storm.

More than a few times over the past three weeks my arms have been reduced to a jello-jiggle after shoveling. It's a bit different here on the coast than what I was accustomed to in central Maine. On the coast, we tend to get a heavier, rain/snow-mixed precipitation. So, when the rest of the state has that light fluffy stuff that isn't a back-breaker when shoveling, we usually end up with a heavy, sticky mess that would give even the most Herculean of men quite an upper body workout.

This winter the forecast has called for more-than-usual "coastal huggers". Those storms that go out to sea are often clipping us here in Lubec. While the rest of the state (or even the next town north of us) may be dry and sunny, we are getting dumped-upon with whiteout squalls and mass accumulations.

So what does this mean beyond lots of shoveling and an enormous plow bill?

Snow days. The kind where the phone rings at 5:30 in the morning and the voice on the other end of the receiver tells me to go back to sleep. (But I never do!!!)

We've had four of them so far this season. Sometimes that elicits complaining since they have to be made up at the end of the school year, but I have sort of resigned myself that already. There is nothing that can be done: Mother Nature is in control.

For me, the snowy days have been great for studio time. Instead of my usual two days on the weekend and scattered weeknights, I have been able to squeeze in an extra full day which amounts to approximately ten additional hours of sculpting.

Winter is wonderful for creating, especially that which requires much thinking and reflecting. The stillness allows me to be more in my head and less distracted by the pull to be out in the garden or heading out of town, etc. Being snowed-in is the ultimate. Everything that was previously planned gets dropped from the schedule and that makes for pure creation.

I am currently working on two clay sculptures simultaneously. In general I don't like to have my mind scattered amongst too many things, but sometimes that is inevitable. The main component of a sculpture I began almost four weeks ago has a fracture so may need to be re-sculpted, and while I am waiting for that situation to become more clear I have begun a second major piece. With clay, I am always working against the clock. Different steps need to be done at a particular moment when the dryness is "just-so". I may come home from work some days exhausted, but I know that if I don't commit a few hours in the studio that all the previous labor done for a piece may be for naught.

Art is like that. Creating is pleasurable, but it is still work. Inspiration is a motivator, but once a piece has begun, the steps need to continue along at a specific tempo, whether or not the energy is there.

At present moment, the sun is still over an hour from rising. I've yet to assess what amount of snow we actually received overnight. I'm hoping for a shovel-free Sunday so that I may spend as many hours as possible in my pottery cave.

The beginning of a new piece always begs for extra attention. The anticipation of what it may become is at its height.

The Odd Couple

2011-01-23T03:54:00.000-08:00

It does perplex me, how people are able to get along well enough to live together for any length of time, but somehow we manage. We begin with growing up in a house with siblings and parents, sometimes grandparents as well. Squabbles are the norm but unconditional love is ever present. I consider it training for the adult years.

During college, we achieve some level of independence, but then we graduate, seek a mate, and do it with all over again...COHABITATION.

When you live alone for any length of time, you become quite comfortable in your own routines. The toilet seat or toothpaste tube is tended to in a manner likened to your personal preference. Maybe laundry loads always include matching socks, and dairy has its own shelf in the refrigerator. The thermostat is at optimum level. The nightly TV shows are always to your liking. Then suddenly, it is all turned upside down when you fall in love and decide that you will spend the rest of your living days with one particular person.

Chris and I have been together for about twelve years, and have lived in the same dwelling for almost eleven of them. We are not exempt from individual quirks that can bring a person to a near neurotic meltdown, but in most cases, we can pluck the humor from our day to day.

I told Chris that I was going to find an "Odd Couple" video and post it for the next blog. I'm not sure he believed me. As I prepared to blog this morning by watching the 70's reruns, I was belly-laughing with just about every episode I watched. I could find correlations to our own habits and lifestyle here in Lubec. Of course, it is highly exaggerated. We aren't exactly Felix and Oscar, but clips such as "Insomnia" and "Psychic Shmychic" had me in stitches.

I won't tell you which one of us is the "Oscar" or the "Felix": I'll leave that up to your imagination. incidentally, in the sitcom, one of the characters is a writer, the other a photographer. In my estimation, that makes for a pretty good combination.

What really got me on this thought pattern was that I received an email the other day from an artist in New York whom I had met last summer when she and her husband visited Lubec on vacation. I instantly saw correlations between that couple's relationship and mine and Chris'. Both Patricia and I acknowledged that without our husbands' support, there is no way that we would be able to be the artists that we are.

I had heard, years ago, that there is no way two artists can live together harmoniously, that they are each always vying for the spotlight and inevitably jealousy ensues. I have, however, found the opposite to be true. Chris, an artist with words, and myself an artist with the visual, make for a perfect team. Because we are both so passionate about our art, we understand one another and the idiosyncrasies that come with the territory. We keep strange hours, working morning until night, obsessed with the project at hand. Weekends are not for down-time, rather they are an opportunity to continue our work unfettered by the usual weekday demands of errands and job.

We both recognize that creating is as necessary as breathing. And that is key in our relationship. We make space for each other to be the artist and the writer. We support each other: artistic cheerleaders.

So it is with deep love and understanding that I post the video clip of Felix and Oscar. I imagine that soon Chris will be watching the segment as well and (hopefully!) laughing as hard as I did. I can see his hand coming down in an enthusiastic thump upon his desk each time he chortles. The banana on the beans really got me going!

Some of you know us pretty well and have a good guess who is who is this relationship, but truth be known, Chris and I are each a little bit Oscar and little bit Felix.

If most people are honest, they will recognize the duality in themselves as well.

Post Note: So there is no confusion, Chris does housework, cooks meals, and is always respectful...so don't go reading too much into the video!!! (um, I do those things, too!)

Artists and Their Funky Homes

2011-01-09T04:48:00.000-08:00

Daine Langley's home/studio, located on Westport Island, Maine

Diane in her Wildwood Gallery on Westport Island

Two of Diane's encaustic paintings
(and a wall-hanging that I made!)

Diane's hallway to a very tiny, rustic, galley kitchen.

Artists live differently than the rest of the population. While some people strive for the beautiful home with matching curtain to plate dinnerware, we often exist in a bit of a hodge-podge existence. The home is seldom considered completely tidy - with everything in its place as if plucked out of a Martha Stewart Living catalog. Instead, we tend to not be able to refrain from acquiring quirky objects that we think could someday be great in a painted still-life or assemblage, or perhaps offer some sort of inspiration for a work later-on down the road. Have you ever wondered why the artist has a rubber chicken or wagon wheel sitting in the middle of his or her studio? This is why.

I always love to visit my friend Diane. I don't get to very often since I live so far away. We first met at USM in the late 1980's where we were both art students. It had been almost two years since I last saw her, but we try to keep in touch weekly.

Diane lives on Westport Island in an old 1800's schoolhouse. That's pretty nifty in and of itself. If you visit her in the summer, you get to see all kinds of beautiful plants enveloping the grounds and house. There are a couple of outbuildings: an old barn and a smaller structure that houses her gallery.

It's the inside of the house that always amazes me. No matter how many times I visit, it is always a new experience. Diane is constantly moving furniture and switching out artwork to fit her mood or needs and the studio never stays any one way too long. When I walk into the main living area which is her studio, all the senses are brought to full attention. I want to touch everything, look at it all, and more often than not, there is the smell of something yummy cooking in the kitchen. Lilly the cat is parading around in her beautiful long fur coat demanding acknowledgment. A dozen or more in-progress projects are strewn over various tables, chairs, or hanging on the wall or from the ceiling.

In one corner of the room, floor to ceiling book collection and library loans. In another corner, her sewing equipment and fabrics for slow-cloth and quilting. By one window her encaustics are set-up, another window lights her easel for oil painting. The computer (which is extremely outdated and seldom works) is tucked in another corner with piles of papers and photos surrounding, and in the middle of the room, a large table for workshops and a small loveseat and chair for reading and guests, albeit, it is covered with her current rug-hooking projects. Spinning wheels, looms, sewing machines, and furniture that tells a story are randomly sitting here and there. Walking through the space is no easy task, having to maneuver a multitude of interesting items.

Diane doesn't own a TV. Her time is spent reading and working with her hands, and tending to daily tasks that keep life running as smoothly as possible. She is always busy making something whether it is for a show or a gift. I love receiving her emails that read something like: "two pair of socks finished one sock for emma done started quilt for birthday gift encaustic paintings wrapped for show need to get rug hooking example ready for Tuesday's class spinning group here on wednesday think i'll make blueberry scones car not working right not sure i can find someone to plow maybe i will do some oil painting today" (long list lacking most punctuation - but I seem to somehow be able to decipher it all.)

I am blessed to own several pieces of Diane's work from over the past twenty years, from oil paintings to quilts, to slow cloth and rug hooking. I have watercolor paintings from her last trip to Ireland and this past Solstice I was gifted homemade items which included a new pair of hand knitted socks in earthy but bright homespun/dyed wool colors. My toes are very happy!!!!

It's not an easy life for Diane to keep up with the demands of modern society, i.e. bills! But she is doing well to keep art at the forefront of her existence. There are many sacrifices, and everyday simple pleasures or material items are things that many folks take for granted. Diane lives simply, and is grateful when she makes a sale or fills a class. As she says "I have become accustomed to eating."

Click here to visit Diane's Blog.

New Year's Resolution

2010-12-31T06:36:00.000-08:00

Sculptures completed over the past three months by Shanna Wheelock....

U.S. Totem Pole
approx. 22" tall
Wheelthrown and slab construction
Stoneware, acrylic paint

Incendiary
Approx. 26" tall
Slab and wheelthrown construction
Stoneware, acrylic paint, wood, metal
with interior light source

Pomegrenade, sequential series
Total 6' wide. Individual sculptures approx. 8"x8"
Slab and press mold construction, fuze toppers each individually carved
Earthenware with acrylic paint and encaustic medium, metal, wood

Well, the New Year is upon us. Folks all around the world are making their ritual New Year's resolutions: Lose weight, exercise, get to work on time, spend more time with family, pay off debt....The list goes on and on. Some people will accomplish what they set out to do, but most will probably fail miserably. Sure, we all get off to a good start. It's the New Year afterall. We certaily have gorged ourselves so much over Christmas and other celebrations this past month that we think we might vomit if someone so much as mentions another glass of eggnog or piece of cake.

Add me to the list of those who have failed miserably in the past. I can't count the times I have made the same resolution over and over year after year. I finally gave up on making resolutions. Still, people ask, what New Year's resolution have you made this year? I have come to the conclusion, after years of failed attempts, that if you think you should do something for your overall betterment, then why wait another month, week, or five days to begin?

So, I planned to begin 2011 with no resolutions.

But, I have been pondering this thought....

What if....

We were all (yes, the entire world, every last one of us, child or adult, no different what country we are from, the color of our skin, sexual orientation, religious affiliation, etc. etc.) were to.... make the exact same resolution?

What if....

We all proclaimed enthusiastically to ourselves that we would make 2011 the year that we...

Make a vow for Peace.

Yes, I really do think it is that simple.

If every person in the world would vow to not say or do another hurtful thing to another being.

PEACE.

Just like other resolutions - it may take while to catch-on. But eventually, with enough people on board, vowing year after year to be kind, empathetic, forgiving beings ...change is destined to come about.

Power in numbers.

Why wait until January 1?

Spreading the Holiday Spirit to Those Less Fortunate

2010-12-19T15:16:00.000-08:00

"Then the Grinch thought of something he hadn't before! "Maybe Christmas," he thought, "doesn't come from a store. Maybe Christmas...perhaps...means a little bit more!" And what happened then...? Well...in Who-ville they say that the Grinch's small heart grew three sizes that day!

-Dr. Seuss "The Grinch Who Stole Christmas"

I just returned from my end-of-semester presentation at Heartwood College of Art and am now full swing into holiday mode. I love this time of year: time with family and friends, a few days of "down-time", and spreading a bit of goodwill. It is late and I still have lots to do before I turn-in for the night, so thought that I would re-post part of last year's Yule entry. It is equally relevant today as it was last year.

Blessings to all for a magical Yule and a peace-filled New Year!
Shanna

Blog post from December 2009:

Thanksgiving has come and gone. People sat around tables stuffing their faces with all kinds of epicurean delights, sharing stories, giving the occasional thanks for blessings in their lives. Eventually some members of the gathering made their way to the couch for a snooze or to watch a few plays of football. As soon as night passed, it was on to the next holiday and hordes of cell-phone-carrying crazed bargain hunters flooding the streets and stores to find the best deal on this year's hottest toys and gadgets.

Yes indeed, I was part of that mix. Not so much to find the latest deal, but living in a remote area I grab at the opportunity when in "the city" to seek what items we need "back at the ranch" that just aren't available locally. I had been dreading this day, knowing that I would have to skirt around crazily-driven cars at backed-up intersections only to find myself standing in line for what would seem an eternity for one or two items in my hand while others in front of me flaunt their overflowing carts while listening to "The Little Drummer Boy" play over the speaker system for a fourth time that morning.

Okay, maybe I am sounding a bit like the Grinch now.

But in reality, I am not Grinch-like. I love this season. I love (almost) everything about it. Christmas time conjures up all kinds of nostalgia for me. To this day, our family, friends, and neighbors still gather at Mom and Dad's for the Christmas Eve buffet: an enormous spread of food and cheer, gift-exchanging, music, and festive decorations. As a young child, my sister, brother, and I would perform little skits for everyone, or play music or sing. I can still recite the corresponding organ key numbers for "Dreaming of a White Christmas" and "Auld Lange Syne". We don't perform anymore, but the younger of the clan like to belt out a few holiday tunes on the paino or guitar, and the occasional AC/DC song.

In my youth, the butterflies would work overtime in my stomach on Christmas eve. I knew that the sooner I went to sleep the sooner I would wake to find all kinds of toys that Santa had tucked under the tree. There were plenty of chimneys for him to use, and my letters had been mailed to the North Pole ensuring that he would be well-prepared. I was certain I could hear the sleigh bells tinkling as he and his trusty crew of reindeer flew over, Rudolph at the helm of course.

Now that I am older, I still look forward to Christmas (and Solstice!) with great anticipation and excitement. As you age, you appreciate the holidays for different reasons than you did as a child. Now, I find more joy in giving and knowing that I will be spending time with those I love most dearly.

My mom wrote me an email yesterday reminiscing about Christmas past. Like many families, there were financial struggles, but, I never knew it as a kid. The Christmas tree was always overflowing and my sister, brother, and I didn't want for much. It always seemed we had everything we needed. Mom tells of the hours she spent making us handmade clothes and toys because times were so lean, and with tight budgeting she could supplement the handmade items with a couple of material-world toys that we had requested from Santa. I can think back and remember some of the gifts. There were certainly lots of dolls - one that peed and pooped when I fed her, one whose hair could "grow", the beauty-school head that I could I could glam-up, Little Red Riding Hood, and too many Barbies to count, all with high-end runway-type outfits. But what Mom would probably be amazed about is that the items I hold most dear from Christmas' past are the little beanie baby doll she made and the big stuffed pink turtle. I remember toting those two items to school a number of times.

I have lived a truly blessed life. I always had a roof over my head, warm clothes, food, family that loved me, beautiful holiday memories, and material items that I know many in this world don't or won't ever have an opportunity to experience.

I teach in a public school, in a remote, rural area where there are more of those who "need" than those who "have". I know my students, and I know which ones haven't been blessed as I was, or as I am. I know that children, regardless of income class, believe in Santa and expect that he will travel from the North Pole on Christmas to deliver them their dreams. And I know that some students will be more silent than others as kids return from holiday break to show-off their new toys and talk about what goodies Santa delivered to them.

I imagine that most people who read my blog are kind, nurturing souls who are already helping-out others. Given the economy of late, I know it can be a lot to ask. Some folks may not be able to extend themselves financially, but are able to help out with time and volunteering. If you are able to help out, with a toy or in some other financial capacity, a great place to start is a school. Teachers know of lots of little boys and girls who could benefit from the generosity of another. Give your local school a call and ask if there is an item(s) that you can pick-up that will make a child's Christmas morning a little bit brighter. If not a school, there are plenty of children's homes/residential facilities that could use some goodwill as well.

It is a heart-opening experience to help another family who is less-fortunate then yourself.

There are lots of ways to "give" this holiday season (and any season!). If you haven't already made your plan to help-out another, make it a goal to begin now. Whether it is a donation of time, money, or gifts, "tis the season". Perhaps you will help at a local shelter or food bank, be a secret-santa for a school-aged child, pay an out-0f-work neighbor's electric bill, or volunteer at the local hospital's children's ward. It's all beautiful - and it feels great!

Start the giving now and feel your heart grow...and grow...and GROW.

Sounds of Silence

2010-12-12T14:28:00.000-08:00

Day after the first real snowstorm of the season. Yep! It warranted a snow day!

Sometimes you just have to take a hammer to a piece and start all over.

Bello has been feeling neglected lately. He made his way onto my lap despite my continuing to weave.

Last time I blogged I was crossing my fingers for a snow day. I sent out an all points request (begging) to the Weather Gods to please, please, please, give me a free day to get some work done (ironic, isn't it? a "free day" to do work).

Well, I guess the Weather Gods heard me, because next morning at 5:30 a.m. I the phone rang. School canceled. And it should have been, too. It was a nasty frozen mess out there with a mix of sleet and snow. Definitely not good conditions for anyone to be driving in. I was ecstatic. I laid my head back down on the pillow and snoozed another 45 minutes. When I woke, thinking of all the things I could get done that day, I noticed an unusual stillness. There were no sounds of heaters, no hum of appliances: just the sound of distant blowing wind.

Hmmmm.

The Weather Gods giveth. The Weather Gods taketh.

My hopes and plans fizzled as I realized that the power was out. How would I get my 10 million things on the to-do list done without power? I needed heat to be comfy. I needed light to do the finer, more detailed work. No electric toys to help dry paint?

Not knowing how long we would be without power, my first instinct was to shower before the hot water cooled. Once that was accomplished I clothed in the warmest wools and layers I could get my hands on. I turned on the Jotul stove, pulled up a rocking chair, placed a camp lamp beside me, and began to weave. I sat toasty by the stove, creating, while watching snow fall briskly outside.

The silence is not something I am used to, but that morning, it felt incredibly comfortable. I worked for about three hours in that spot, thinking how this was the norm for so many not so long ago. This silence. With only my thoughts to entertain. I felt peaceful. Focused.

Chris eventually sauntered down the stairs. His camping skills came in handy as he pulled out a tiny single-burner stove and prepared us scrambled eggs and hot water for coffee and cocoa. I'm sure that our ancestors long ago didn't have it quite this easy without power, but it did make me wonder what it would be like to take ourselves "off the grid".

I'm not sure I could do it long term. I have become accustomed to modern ways and modern toys. I would miss listening to music, the convenience of a quick warm meal, or hot water for a shower. Oh yes - how could I live without hot water?

Still, the thought intrigues me.

The power returned a bit over three hours later. I missed the silence. I missed the peacefulness. Even if you turn off the music, TV, and furnace, there is still the hum of the refrigerator and other electrical devices. Even if you turn off all the lights and heaters, you can still sense the electrical flow.

I finally found my groove again and got in a long day's work. One week ago I didn't think I would be able to accomplish all that I have, but I sit here tonight in awe of the amazing amount of artwork that has been completed over the past week. I finished three tapestries and am almost done with a third sculpture. The pieces have been in progress for almost 15 weeks and it feels good to see them coming to some sort of conclusion. Right now I am listening to the hum of a fan, blowing on a wooden pedestal that I just painted with acrylic paint. I am waiting for the paint to dry so that I can move on to the next step. It feels good to look around the studio and see all that has been accomplished in such a short time.

On another note, the North Pole called today. I normally wouldn't answer the phone on a Sunday morning when in the middle of work, but when Santa phones around the time of holidays, I think it best to Pick-up. It was his top elf calling with a message from the big guy. Apparently Santa was watching us in his big snow globe (yep, checking us out in Lubec, Maine) when he saw Chris, in an ecstatic frenzy, grab a gift from his Christmas stocking and tear apart the paper while dancing frantically around the room and gloating that he opened a gift and I couldn't do a single thing about it.

Well, I don't need to do anything. Seems Santa has taken care of things and Chris is on the probationary Naughty list. If I was in charge of all things festive, I think I would have just slid him right on over to the Naughty list with no chance of gift-receiving parole. But the big guy in the red suit has the final say.

It will be interesting come Solstice and Christmas, this year, won't it Chris?