Where have I been?

Well, it has been a while since I have blogged. Life has gotten pretty hectic between school and other projects. I have been able to do a bit of weaving, but artwork remains unfinished. Since school is on break this week, I am hopeful that I will pick up where I left off with a mask come Friday. When April hits, I absolutely need to be back in the barn studio preparing for the summer influx of tourists.

The other day, someone said that we only have 16 weeks of school left before summer break. Wow! Time has just flown by this year, as it usually does. There is still so much left to do. I am currently working on writing our art plan for the Gifted and Talented component of our program. Grading is due in a couple weeks, and our big push with literacy and differentiation is keeping me busy with re-working some lesson plans and rubrics. The student art show at the library will be coming down soon (see photo above) and before I know it I will be preparing student work for our big art show on Projects' Night in May. Also, students will be getting artwork ready for sale at the West Quoddy Visitor Center over the summer, and work needs to be prepped for the Women's Club Art Show. Things are happening fast!

I am excited to be working with a group next week in Ellsworth to review grant applications. It has been an interesting process so far and I am enjoying the reading. An inside view to the world of giving and receiving grants. Plus, I get to spend a day with some super neat folks!

The most exciting project right now, though, is that I am working closely (madly!) with Maine artist Natasha Mayers to apply for a grant to bring an amazing community art project to Lubec. I have a good feeling about it - and will write more on it later as details become more specific. The organizer in me is coming to the forefront. It all began when my dad coerced me into organizing a parade for Hallowell when I was 18 years old. I ended up doing that for three years, then was enlisted to be on various committees for different community projects. I enjoy the writing, networking, publicity, excitement on event day, and the general creativity of it all. Now, there just isn't enough time to do everything I enjoy, as often as I would like. I hope to be able to do more of this type of thing down the road to help move my art career along. It's a lot of work though. For now, I just need to be able to find a balance, keep my artwork going, stay on top of teaching responsibilities, and...most importantly....maintain my sanity. What's left of it anyway.

Check out Natasha Mayers work:
http://www.flickr.com/photos/natashamayers/

On another note, my friend Ruta runs this nifty business called Tours of Lubec and Cobscook. Check it out if you would like to get a better feel for this end-of-the-earth area we live in. Lots of treasures to be found here.
http://www.toursoflubecandcobscook.com/

Owl

To hear a podcast of one of Chris' poems, follow this link:

http://rosethorn.podbean.com/2008/10/02/owl-by-chris-crittenden-poem/

My other job....

Chris is in California right now - visiting family - working on his novel and poetry. The other day he left Maine for his 6:00 a.m flight out of Bangor. He wore, no doubt, his gloves, cap, wool coat, and LLBean flannel lined jeans...and a layer of thermals underneath. Eight hours later he was in L.A., stepping out of the airport into a balmy 86 degree temp. It must feel strange to, in eight hours time, experience an 86 degree shift. (It is pretty much zero, or below zero, at this point in downeast Maine.) He'll have to excuse my not feeling sorry for him having to endure that sweltering heat!

It has been a while since I last blogged. Time is always an issue it seems. In December I had taken some time off from work to get a few personal things in order, but now I am back at my full-time teaching job.

I love to teach - but admit that teaching full-time in a public school is a challenge. It is hard to balance being an artist with working set hours in a job that is highly demanding of a person physically and emotionally. Nonetheless, it is a career that I would choose over most others. I came into teaching as a second career, but I would say, a bit oblivious to the larger issues in the public education system.

My job consists of teaching art to approximately 150 students, pre-school through high school. I basically run ten different curriculums. Since I am an artist who enjoys dabbling in most any media, I am able to bring that experience to my students. We have an Earth Loom, classroom looms, a kiln and lots of clay, paint, awesome drawing materials, and lots of creativity all around. I am often inspired by what my students create and head home at the end of the day fired-up and ready to jump into my own projects.

The last two weeks at work have been extremely busy. Added to my usual classload and art class committments, this year I am a high school advisor, have to oversee portfolios and mentor a student for senior discovery. I have been busy with closing high school grades, portfolio sign-offs, and the biggie....a student art show.

I basically run two art shows each school year. The winter show is a selection of 35-50 student artworks at the local library. This is a great show - with top notch student work from all grades that I teach. We also have an opening reception and students, family and friends gather to socialize and graze on various culinary offerings (brownies and cookies). When I announce which students made it into the show - I have the students' full attention - each of them I know hoping they will be picked to participate. It is hard to see the disappointment on the faces of those who don't make it. Since I have limited space for the show - I am able to select only 2-4 artworks from each class. That is a difficult task for me!

The big art show, however, has a work from each student in the school. That show always falls on Projects' night in May. The students each pick their favorite piece to display. Then Chris and I spend hours mounting and hanging work for the one and a half hour display. At least the library art show hangs for a month or more.

So - I imagine my blogging and art production time will both be slowed as I get back into the swing of things at school. My mother arrives tonight from central Maine for a visit - and I am hoping that after her visit - I will find the energy and time to begin a new project. Or at least finish the weaving I began in December!

The artwork above is an illustration by one of my second graders. I read the class the book "McCawber the Painting Squirrel" and they created drawing inspired by the story. Notice the squirrel's tail...red and green - having been used as a paintbrush. Adorable!

Off on Holiday

Just a quick note to let my blog readers know that I have been traveling and super busy with the recent holidays - thus no posting! I will return to posting shortly after the new year. I hope that everyone has enjoyed this holiday season. Happy New Year!

Inspired by Coral

Finally! I am working on a new tapestry!

I have been preoccupied this past month and unable to work with clay or fiber - and am so happy that my energy is returning so that I can begin a new piece. I found (bought) a beautiful little rectangle of coral a while back and have wanted to use it as a centerpiece on a tapestry.Yesterday I selected yarns that I thought would work well with the coral and warped the loom for a small project. Today, I began the actual weaving. The photo here shows just a few warp strings and the first two colors of the tapestry. I hope to finish it by the end of the weekend - but will see what the days bring.

It sure does feel good to be working again...even if it is at a turtle's pace!

Living at the Edge

We live at the easternmost edge of the United States in a teeny little town called Lubec. Living here is an experience like no other. How we got here was an unusual, unplanned bit of fate.

I am a native Mainer - but central Maine is a completely different lifestyle than "downeast." My husband is from Los Angeles. We were both living in Knoxville, Tennessee when the opportunity came up for us to move to Lubec. Chris' grandfather had a house here that was vacant and he felt it would be a perfect place for an artist and writer. So, we packed up the Uhaul and in three weeks time had a new home and life in a region of Maine that we had never visited before. Of course, we had a glamorous image in our mind...coastal cottage on a sea cliff.

As we continued our drive (a good 20+ hours) up route 1 in Maine..the road became increasingly more deteriorated, the treescape changed (spruce instead of lush maple and oak), and businesses were nearly non-existent. Now, being a town without a Wal Mart or McDonalds is fine, but this gave the word remote a new meaning for us! Here, there are no traffic lights for 50 miles. The eagles soar overhead and bear ramble through town. In winter, there is one, sometimes two, diners that are open for business, and the local market closes by 6:00. Gas and heating oil prices are higher, food costs more, and wages (if you can find a job) are pitiful. Sea smoke pours off the bay signaling another extremely cold day. If you lose power in a storm, Lubec is not the first town Bangor Hydro rushes to repair service to. If you need anything - say a new pair of underwear or a prescription filled - it is either a 70 mile or 100 mile roundtrip to Machias or Calais. And, our little coastal cottage on a sea cliff.....? We arrived to a house, no running water, trees overgrowing the barn entrance, kitchen ceiling being supported by a birch tree branch, no stove, and a 1920's era Westinghouse refrigerator that did a superb job of melting ice-cream and freezing vegetables. And, we have to barricade the cellar entrance every night lest the raccoons break in and tear things apart.

Yet, here were are, eight years later still living here. The first few years were challenging, to say the least. But sometime around our third or fourth year here we began to meet some of the most interesting and incredible friends. They are poets, authors, healers, musicians, artists, storytellers, dancers, peace activists, Buddhists, Quakers, Shamans, naturalists, world travelers, teachers, weavers, and organic farmers. These incredible people, coupled with the raw beauty of this area has us now understanding why people come here and call it their paradise. It is a hideaway from the mainstream where nature is still in charge.

We can walk out our front door and choose from a dozen or more hikes. We can launch our kayaks in South Bay behind our house or in Johnson Bay if we want to tool around the salmon pens. We once saw at least fifty eagles circling over Carrying Place Cove. There are ancient shells hidden in the clay beds at Mowry Beach. Here, you hear the real "downast accent" that the Stephen King movies never seem to get quite right. In summer, painters line the streets to capture the glow of sun's first light on buildings. On Wednesday evenings, Summer Keys classical and jazz music pours out of the Congregational Church. Crow Town Gallery has the tastiest food spreads at their art openings that feature "local" but accomplished artists. On Fridays we pick up the best tasting wood-fired bread from Ed and Diane's place, and we have the sweetest little natural foods market at Sun Porch Industries. Martha is always stocked with fresh breads, coconut milk, spices, rice and pastas which seem to be our main staples. And, if you feel like doing some international travel, just hop in the car and drive across the bridge to Campobello Island, Canada.

So, we have to live miserly to get by here and we are sometimes cold with all the drafts in this old house, and traveling to visit family is a huge production and expense...but the treasures of this little village are worth the extra effort.

To visit some sites about this area check out:

http://lubecme.govoffice2.com/index.asp?Type=NONE&SEC={216C09B5-1156-4827-833E-B285802A912B}
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lubec,_Maine
http://www.culturepass.net/
http://www.summerkeys.com/
http://www.cohillsinn.com/
http://www.thecclc.org/
http://www.qrlt.org/

(In the painting above: The view from Klondike Mountain - overlooking South Bay, behind our house. The posts from an old pier are still visible at low tide. The pier once was attached to a business that was part of the Klondike Gold Rush - yep, right here in Lubec! It turned out to be a scam.)

The Machine

I began this series of work about four summers ago. At first, I just referred to these pieces as "spike pots". They were not typical of my usual work. They were spikey, menacing, ugly, and painful to pick up (mind you, some of these pots have literally hundreds of little prickly spikes).

I work intuitively. When I go into the studio, I often don't have a plan or sketch. It sometimes takes me a while to figure out the meaning (if any) to a particular work. I knew that these pieces were full of pain, far from the joyful and spirited works that I am accustomed to creating. It took me a while, but I finally found the connection. In my studio - I listen to either music cd's or NPR. At this point in time, I spent many hours listening to reports of war in the Middle East. While working, I would become emotional, and not able to comprehend how people could think that killing would be the answer to any problem. I thought about the children and innocents that are killed, or the young soldiers who have been told what to do, or what is right, before they are even old enough to form their own beliefs and values.

So evolved this series which I call "The Machine."

When folks see these pieces for the first time, there is no middle ground. They either love the pieces or hate them. I am not offended at all when someone doesn't like these sculptures. Even I can admit to their ugliness. They serve no function, won't look pretty in the den on a shelf, and aren't exactly the kind of gift you would send grandma at Christmas. After all, they do represent war. And what can be more ugly than that?

(Pictured above: "The General")