On the Road Again

Claudette Gamache, pastel painter, shares some her techniques with us during the MFA Weekend Seminar at Heartwood College of Art.
Photo by Bonnie Faulkner

It's amazing to see a pastel painting from the beginning (note red/orange base layer in previous photo) to the near finished creation. What a transformation!
Above: Pastel Landscape by Claudette Gamache.

Photo by Bonnie Faulkner

Back in Lubec in my own studio, I have begun encaustic painting on the surface of my "chakra pods". This six-part sculpture is far from done....Check back later on for the finished work!

While packing sake sets for a gallery, Bouli thought it might good idea to pack herself in a box.

New gallery, IRONBOUND, located at 37 Bayview Street, Camden, will be carrying my pottery work. It's an amazing two-floor space and I am excited to be on board! (due to open Spring 2012)

IRONBOUND owner, Joy Armbrust, shows off her enthusiasm for power tools and the remodeling process in her new Camden gallery. I think you can tell from this picture that she exudes much optimism, gratitude and "joy" for this new adventure.


ANNOUNCEMENT
Lubec Arts Alive
A short film by noted filmmaker Jon Wing Lum
depicting a community-inspired week of art

Mural painted during Lubec Arts Alive 2009 under the direction of Natasha Mayers, located at the Lubec Historical Society. Funded in part by a grant from the Maine Humanities Council and the Maine Arts Commission. Photo by Goodman/Van Riper Photography.

Featuring
Union of Maine Visual Artists and the People of Lubec

Tune in to watch it on ABC TV
Sunday, March 25th, 3:00 PM
Airing on WVII out of Bangor
Warner Brothers Channel 8, Dish or Satellite Channel 7
Viewing area Rockport to E. Millinocket / Oakland to Machias

This 36 minute film documents the one week residency of thirteen artists in Lubec, Maine to "art-up" the town. Artists including Robert Shetterly, Natasha Mayers, and Kenny Cole, Rose Marasco, and Richard Brown Lethem joined Lubec community members to create a history mural and installation art for businesses. Over thirty portraits of local personalities were created and oral histories documented.

"Lum's film is a poignant portrayal of artists, art making, and sense of place in a small town during the summer of 2009."

I missed a week of blogging and am now "on the road again" trying to sneak in an hour or so to get my thoughts down on paper. Well, not paper. Keyboard and screen more like it. The past two weeks have flown by with lots of excitement but at the same time, have offered me some peaceful and relaxing moments. I am attempting to bring more non-work time into my life. It is a challenge, but am learning that pacing the self will work best in the end. The rabbit and the hare, right?

This weekend I am enjoying two nights at the Samoset Resort in Rockland. Things are hopping here with the annual Fisherman's Forum. I am not here for the forum, but the lively energy is all around us. Last night Chris and I peeked our heads into the ballroom where an auction was in progress. Not the typical auction, mind you. Rain gear and lobster traps were the coveted items, complete with an auctioneer who boasted a thick downeast Maine accent!

This morning I delivered work to a new gallery that is opening later this spring. IRONBOUND, housed in a gorgeous brick building in downtown Camden, will be a primarily sculpture space. The owner, Joy Armbrust, is a real pleasure to work with. It is evident that she is passionate about art and her journey has been an interesting one for sure. I look forward to this new adventure and partnership.

Last weekend I was in Kennebunk for our MFA weekend seminar at Heartwood College of Art. These weekend residencies fill the soul. I am fortunate to move along in a pod with a group of other women artists/teachers who are passionate about art and the art process. The roundtable conversations are deep and inspiring, the food filling, and the hands-on workshops offer up lots of great techniques that can be transferred to both the studio and the classroom. I feel so incredibly honored to be in the midst of such strong and focused women.

This semester we had the privilege of learning under pastel painter Claudette Gamache. Her talent with pastels and her patient, nurturing, and intuitive teaching style made for a wonderful first-pastel experience for me. I love to draw and am quite comfortable with oil pastel, charcoal, pencil, and conte, but the color and soft powdery, lush, sticks of pigment were a new experience and I feel a bit more comfortable with the material than I did before the workshop. There is much more to the process than one would expect - but those steps that I had never seen demonstrated before made handling of the material a much more confident experience.

The next three months will go by quickly as I juggle a myriad of projects. I am in production for the spring season and preparing to have my pottery at three or four new venues this summer. Teaching at school gets wild in the spring, too. Projects' Night is just over two months away and there is lots to be accomplished in the classroom before the big student art show goes up. A new website is in the works, too, and requires a hefty amount of rewriting and photo shoots.

I am in the process of researching the factory industry in Lubec and find myself enthralled by all the old photos and the images of huge buildings and a bustling downtown. These factories, for the most part, do not exist anymore. Barely any evidence other than remnant foundations or photos. I am creating an installation sculpture based on the factories, planned to show in June 2012. It will be months of work for about three weeks of display, but I am excited since this will be my first installation-type piece. I have been thinking about it for the past few months and the physical part of the project is just beginning. I have easily a couple hundred hours of work ahead of me and know the clock is ticking. I still am trying to get my head around the "how-to". There is some compromise between what I would like to do and what is feasible. But, this is a beginning, and in every new process, I learn a bit more to take to the next project. I have always had some sort of connection to buildings and feel incredibly sad when I see a building heading toward its demise. I am in a way sensing the pain and loss of our community for these buildings that once existed. Not only was a means of employment and stability lost, but also a sense of identity. My installation sculpture will touch on just one tiny detail in a two-hundred year history.

Tonight we wine and dine Mom amidst birthday cheer. I am not even sure how old she is. We kind of lose track of the numbers as we get older. I am expecting lots of laughter tonight and some majorly satisfied salivary glands. Soon Chris and I trek back to Lubec to sequester ourselves into our respective creative spaces. The cats will no doubt be bent out of shape over our two night disappearance. Hopefully some tuna and catnip will remedy the situation in a timely manner.

A New Semester Begins at Heartwood College of Art

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

Glaze Tests, Studio Tours, and Phishing

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!

Grass for Sarah

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....

Heartwood College of Art and Colored Porcelain

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!!!!

Weekend Seminar at Heartwood College of Art

Encaustics and brushes warming on the aluminum hot plate

Artist Kim Bernard facilitated the Saturday encaustics workshop.

Three pomegranates: the actual fruit, clay with acrylic paint, and clay with encaustics.

Wendy Burton created a gorgeous cool-blues and greens Monet-ish encaustic painting.

The Kennebunk Inn on Main Street was all decked-out for Halloween.
Considered one of the most haunted inns in Maine!!! (I had my own very strange experiences while staying there last weekend...so I am inclined to agree with this assessment!)

The old Fort Knox bridge, engulfed in pea-soup thick fog.

I just returned from my fall weekend seminar at Heartwood College of Art. The part-time, low-residency MFA program is an excellent choice for teachers because it works around the teaching schedule with weekend meetings, snail-mail, phone and web communication, and a studio component which is primarily done in your own studio. This semester I am in close-contact with two mentors and an advisor and so far the feedback has been phenomenal, keeping me on my toes, on track, and in critical thinking mode probably far more hours than previously-thought sanely possible.

Our "pod" meets once a semester for a three day seminar that is jam-packed with conversations, presentations, critiques, and my favorite, a hands-on workshop where we experiment with a new art medium. I look forward to the weekend seminar for many reasons, one of which is to reconnect with the other students. We have the perfect pod with excellent chemistry. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that we are all art teachers who are also serious about our own work as artists. This passion for both teaching and creating filters down to our "back-home" school students, and that same openness and nurturing is shared amongst our own peers in the Heartwood program.

Every part of the finely structured three-day seminar is meaningful, but the encaustics workshop really had my heart this time around.

A lot of my friends have learned encaustics from Kim Bernard. I was ecstatic to learn that I too would have an opportunity. The one day workshop only touched on the very beginning of what is possible with encaustics, but it was enough to get us rolling. Kim is an accomplished artist as well as a fabulous teacher who exudes immense confidence in her medium as well as a love for the history and technique. It was interesting to learn that mummy tombs were painted with encaustic techniques, and that today, those artworks still exist in good condition.

Encaustics is an art medium that consists of beeswax, dammar resin, and natural pigments. The technique involves melting the ingredients and then applying them to a porous surface with a brush. Each layer that is applied is fused either to the support or the previous layer by way of a heat gun or torch. The relatively simple technique does take time to prefect. My own work most times looked like a massive glob of melted wax with inconsistently-placed lumps and a hodge podge of color. Somehow, when Kim does a demo, the wax is smooth and the colored layers interact harmoniously with one another. Granted, I am new at this. Nonetheless, I am the first to admit that my shortcomings are plentiful with this technique!

I tried the encaustics on a bisque-fired pomegranate sculpture that I had made. It was an experiment of sorts as I have been trying to decide how to finish the surface of a recent ceramic sculpture. I thought I might use acrylic paint, or maybe shoe polish, but wanted to give encaustics a fair shake. As it turned out, I fell head-over-heels in love with the texture and process of encaustics. I filled up a bag with goodies from the Heartwood art supply store and returned home late last night, eager to finish the sculpture.

Homage to My Teachers

Four years old, my first graduation, Mrs. Stone's Nursery School in Farmingdale, Maine (1973)

Susan Barrett Merrill
Weaver and Author of "Zati: The Art of Weaving a Life"

My mentor during the Maine Arts Teachers Fellowship in 2007

Alice Carroll-Bair
Sculptor/Jewelry Designer, shown here with her metal wall sculptures
My mentor in the MFA program at Heartwood College of Art

Natasha Mayers (left) and Karen Adrienne (right), during Lubec Arts Alive 2009
Natasha has been my inspiration and model for community arts and activism
Karen was one of my university drawing professors
Photo by Goodman/Van-Riper Photography ©2009

This afternoon Chris and I will go to school to watch a group of teens pomp and circumstance down the aisle to receive their high school diplomas. At age eighteen, I imagine that they feel this is the grand finale after a long and often turbulent or exhilarating ride on the rollercoaster of life. It probably has not occurred to most of them that this is only the mere beginning.

As a teacher, I wonder what impact I have on my students. Teachers are in their classrooms day in and day out, lecturing, demonstrating, leading, and testing. We throw out our bits of wisdom here and there and think that most times those words fall on deaf ears. I try to choose my words carefully, though, knowing that my own experiences as a student have impacted my life more than my teachers may ever fully understand.

I can name most every teacher I have had since I was four years old, starting in nursery school with Mrs. Stone. I remember her beehive hairdo and her little pink house with a yard that felt like a page out of a fairytale, with droopy willow branches and lots of magical, secret hiding places. Kindergarten at Helen Thompson School in West Gardiner was equally as fun with Mrs. Bernstein on piano leading us in a round of "On Top of Spaghetti" and plaster-casting our handprints. I still have the yellow saddle-stitched "See Spot Run" booklets in my memory box in the attic.

I'll admit, much of my school years are a blur. I have blips of images and conversations but as I get older, I find that I can't remember most of my 250 high school graduating classmates. But I do remember key moments that have helped to shape me into the person that I am today.

Once a week between the ages of eight and ten, I would take the bus to Mrs. Rommel's house. She was an eccentric older German woman who had a ceramics studio. We would begin our afternoon class ritual with a cup of Russian tea, then into the work space we went to create. These were the poured-mold ceramics. For a young budding artist, this was as good as going to the corner store with twenty five cents for penny candy. My eyes would peruse the shelves for the mold that caught my fancy. Then I would sand the edges and paint. My proudest moment was winning a blue ribbon at the Litchfield Fair for my hand-painted Eskimo girl. Other little treasures from my time with Mrs. Rommel are still on display, thirty years later, in my parents' home.

Chemistry Class, Grade 10, Gardiner Area High School, Mr. Waters. During a final lab we worked in groups to discover the material in our test tubes through trial and error. While Mr. Waters was out of the room, a student noticed the answers to all our labs in the rank book, sitting open on the teacher's desk. Most students ran up to the desk and jotted down their answers. I was one of four who did not. Because of my highly developed morals? Doubtful. I probably was afraid I'd get caught. Whatever reason, I didn't cheat as most students did. As you might guess, someone in the class fessed-up to the teacher. We were called to his room one-by-one and interrogated. He asked each one of us what happened. I told him my story. he already knew that I didn't cheat, but...here's the kicker....I still got a 2 in deportment. Full-on cheaters got a 4 and had to re-do the lab. But why did I, who quietly went about my business in an honest fashion, get a 2? Because when I saw that an injustice was being done I did not go to the teacher to tell him. Boy was I ripped. But, years later, I understand the lesson. It was only high school, and it was only a chem lab, but in the larger scope, I learned that keeping silent when there is an injustice does not move a people forward.

Philosophy 101, Joe Grange: A Professor that I had for only one semester that I will probably never cross paths with again. Still, it was in this class where my spiritual and philosophical beliefs started to take solid shape. I remember Prof. Grange standing by the window and discussing Spinoza. The line "God is Nature" struck a chord with me. I never looked at a cloud or tree the same way again.

Patt Franklin was my ceramics professor at USM. I admired her from the very start. She was somewhat of a mystery to me and I wanted to create work that made her proud. Though she didn't talk much about herself, I felt that she was a healer and quite intuitive. Clay became my "medicine" and once I experienced the meditative qualities of working with the earth, I was forever hooked. I went on to take several more courses with Patt and ceramics as my studio concentration. I received the ceramics award certificate when I graduated in 1993. Patt told me that it was a close call between myself and another student. I didn't take it for granted. That certificate was a sure boost for my fragile self-esteem and no doubt gave me the confidence to continue with my artistic dreams.

I returned to USM in 1998 for the ETEP (Extended Teacher Education Program). For years, people told me that I should be a teacher. I fought it like crazy. Eventually the teacher in me won out. I had been teaching out of my Hallowell studio and saw first-hand how art is a vehicle for healing. I worked with inmates, women's groups, and children. So many times I would hear an adult say "I don't have a creative bone in my body" then they would create something amazing and as a result, self-confidence was boosted. A friend of mine was studying to be a teacher and he encouraged me to apply to ETEP. I remember heading into my interview, three women questioning me about my goals and asking "what would you do if....?" I think there must have been a bad cop/good cop routine going on because by the end of the interview I was a bit flustered and red-faced. Trudy Wilson kinda scared me at first. She seemed tough and asked the hard questions that got me a bit bent out of shape. I honestly don't remember what those questions were, but I remember thinking I did not make it into the program and drove home that day feeling a bit peeved.

Trudy, as it turned out, became one of my mentors/professors in the ETEP program, and no doubt, has become one of my all-time favorites. She is intelligent, creative, nurturing, and has high standards. It was during ETEP that I for the first time ever thought that I was "smart". My work was judged and critiqued and it wasn't like taking a form test that questioned whether or not I could memorize basic facts, it was about finding my skills as a teacher and learning to organize those talents. Trudy made me want to be the best teacher that I could be.

During ETEP, I was honored to work under two phenomenal Maine art teachers. Jan Mellyn, at Longfellow Elementary, showed me that kids are amazing artists and to never underestimate what they are capable of. Kendra Farrell at Freeport High School taught me that teaching is fun, teachers are "hip", and that laughter can get you through most any situation. I keep in touch with Kendra through Facebook. She now heads the art department at a school in China and she still possesses that same incredible enthusiasm that inspires her students to be serious artists.

I first met Susan Merrill at a workshop in Lubec. I was immediately moved by her loving spirit and knew that I would someday again work with her. Four years later, I received a Maine Arts Teachers Fellowship from the Maine Alliance for Education and the Maine Community Foundation. I was privileged to spend a summer under Susan's tutelage learning the weaving techniques in her book "Zati: The Art of Weaving a Life." Susan is pure love. It just oozes from her. Not only did I learn new skills as a weaver, but I learned that the most important thing in this life is love. She is a gentle teacher, inspiring, healing, and nurturing. She helped me to focus in on what is important to me in this lifetime, and I am overjoyed that the foundation that was set in my work with Susan has carried me through and has been instrumental in forming who I am today, both spiritually and philosophically.

I met Natasha Mayers years ago in my family's business, but it was just last year that I got to know and befriend her on a more intimate level during Lubec Arts Alive. She is an accomplished activist and artist who has traveled the world to lead community art projects. She is a visionary with a warrior spirit and has been a model for me in my own work with community. I kind of see her like a beautiful tree that has endured all the weathers and years yet still continues to blossom every spring. I am sort of like a tiny sapling, an offshoot, trying to grow, aspiring to someday reach as close to the sun as the Mother tree. The partnership with Natasha during Lubec Arts Alive has set a foundation for my present and future development as a truth-seeking artist and activist for what I believe in.

Now enters three new teachers in my life. Our journey is only at the very beginning, and I look forward with great hope and excitement in our partnership. Berri Kramer and Susan Wilder are President and Dean at Heartwood College of Art where I am enrolled in the MFA program. They are down-to-earth, forward thinkers, enthusiastic and passionate artists. I admire their tenacity and vision. It is amazing what women can accomplish when teaming together their ideas and dreams. The first mentor that they chose for me is a metal sculptor, Alice Carroll-Bair. I just met Alice for the first time about a month ago, and am ecstatic to be working under her guidance. She is wise and spiritual in her work, a master of her craft, and is confident in a quiet way. She has been kind of like a "zen cheerleader" throughout my first semester, encouraging me from a very centered and sage space.

Of course, there are many non-traditional type teachers in my life, from my parents, to my grandparents, friends, husband, and even my cats, but that would be a lengthy blog chapter in and of itself.

For now, I give praise to all those teachers out there who make a difference in someone's life. Even when you don't realize it, you are leaving your footprints on an other's soul, and the lessons you teach go on for many years, handed down from you, to student, to their students, and so on and so forth.

Grenade
2010, Shanna Wheelock
Clay, metal, acrylic, wood
35" x 45"

A detail of the sculpture

Close-up of the pomegranate

The initial sketch for the pomegranate

Five poms sculpted (extras in the case of a kiln disaster...good to be prepared!)

Initial sketch for the grenade

Planning for the grenade project began in December of 2009. I remember spending an entire day in the studio sketching and writing the proposal. I still have the paper with my hen-scratch scrawl and a list of about twenty things that I could visualize as a possible long-term project.

I am a student in what Heartwood College of Art refers to as their "Pioneer Pod". We are a small group of artists working toward our MFA in the state's first low-residency program of its kind. The program is a good fit for me. I am able to work independently in my own studio under the guidance of a mentor and an advisor. We gather once a semester for a "weekend intensive" and move along at the rate of two classes each term. Though it is an immense amount of work, I am able to schedule it around my full-time teaching job without interruption. As an arts educator, this is a perfect program as it complements what I do in the classroom perfectly.

So, I spent that winter day in December in the studio racking my brain for an idea that I would be willing to commit myself to for five month's time. I am not sure exactly how the image came to me, but I began to research grenades. As soon as I read the Wikipedia entry, I was solid in my idea.

"The French military term grenade probably comes from the shape of the pomegranate fruit, which is also called grenade in French."

Wikipedia

Much of my work in the past has emphasized symbols and objects associated with women-centered mythology. The idea that the term grenade was a direct translation intrigued me. I decided to juxtapose the two objects: The pomegranate with it's warm magenta color and ancient fertility symbolism against the drab cool color of the grenade which represents the loss of life.

I researched the grenade online as well as read a US military issued book on grenades. An inert M67 grenade was purchased and used as the model for each of the hand-sculpted objects. The process was long, often tedious, and came with lots of challenges that I did not foresee. Ultimately, I feel that I became a better artist for having to endure the many obstacles. Perhaps, this experience could be understood as my "artistic rites of passage".

My philosophy associated with the piece runs much deeper than I am stating here, but for now, I will allow the image to ruminate within each viewer, permitting interpretation.

Life is still moving at a fast clip and the past few weeks are a blur. It is a good feeling to have the final evaluation complete, as well as my two major projects. I'll plan to post pics of my second MFA creation next week , the "Transformation Tapestry".

As a side note - it was way cool to see myself and my words in glossy magazine color. If you have access to a news-stand that carries "Artscope" (termed "New England's Culture Magazine") you can find me on page 12, in the column "Roundtable", May/June 2010 issue.

Turning the Earth does the Mind Good

Transformation Tapestry in progress

I am sitting in my studio, breathing easy and feeling completely at peace. Sad to admit, but this is a rare feeling lately. Life has been speeding by and if there were any roses, no, I did not stop to smell them along the way. Not in the past couple weeks anyway.

Yesterday afternoon was a turning point. After two solid days of work that was accompanied by pure frustration with techniques going bust and materials running out at critical moments, Chris and I headed outside to soak in the sun and the first real warm day here in Lubec. We planted a rose bush in honor of Chris' brother Gudger. It replaced the ancient rambling rose that met its unfortunate demise last summer due to excavation equipment and my not being here to save it.

Digging into the cool moist earth was rejuvenating. In fact, I get the same feeling turning the earth as I do when working in the studio with clay. We decided not to stop at the rose bush. We raked rocks and heaved up weeds. Hyacinths and hostas were planted as an attempt to green the dreary dirt landscape that is a remnant of recent construction.

Today I entered the studio with a new frame of mind. I felt okay. I felt like I could accomplish what I set out to do, and dare I say, maybe even finish-up a project?

At 4:45 p.m. this afternoon, I was able to call a piece "done" that I began working on back in January. Maybe I would have finished today anyway, but, I think that yesterday's shift in scenery and time away from the studio gave me a fresh perspective.

I am almost done with a clay sculpture that began in January as well. Both projects are for the MFA program that I am in at Heartwood College of Art. It is an incredible feeling to finally see the ideas, formulated nearly five months ago, come to completion. Or near completion anyway! I still have a few details to work out on the clay piece, but I'm in the homestretch. Final project evaluations are May 15th, and I suspect that I will be tweaking things right up until the last minute.

Here's the interesting thing to me. I am forty years old. I have been calling myself an artist since I was about twenty. I have created hundreds of works over the years and sold much of them. But for some reason, this current sculpture feels like my first real piece of artwork. I might be confusing this with, simply, taking a new direction. But there is more to it I feel.

This is the piece that I have labored over more than any other, with over 150 hours and hundreds of dollars invested. It has challenged me to persist even when I was completely frustrated and wanted to can the whole idea. I stuck it out. I spent hours sketching, journaling, researching. No doubt, this project that challenged and frustrated me will be a spring-board for further pieces. And silly me, I am thinking of going through some of the same processes again! You would think I had been beaten down enough already by it, but as I have said before, artwork is not all fun. An artist has a vision and will do what needs to be done to bring that idea into physical manifestation.

I know you must be wondering what is that I have actually sculpted. I have provided only bits and pieces the past few months in this blog. I plan to post the final piece after my MFA evaluations later in May. Even I have yet to see the finished piece all assembled.

In the meantime, head on outside to soak-up some warm rays, breathe-in the fresh air, plant something beautiful, and remind yourself to smell the roses.