tornado warnings

Today might be the day I get started on my first seamstress order! It's an interesting project for a number of reasons. I know the family I'll be sewing for from my Quaker meeting, and they live 'plain'. This superficially means that if you saw them on the street you might think they were Amish. So their clothes are homemade- or in this case, friend-made. I'm more excited about this than the usual responses I've been getting because it's very true to how I'd ideally like my craft to be engaged with in respect to clothing. Their clothing will be paid a fair price for and made by someone they know locally. My needs (in part) will be met by my ability to barter a skill that will meet their needs, which I think is pretty damn cool. 

My significant other, Buddha, and I have already begun some experiments in doing things the "old fashioned way" in the interests in saving money, living healthy, walking lightly on the earth and breaking out of those systems that do not serve us well and are so ubiquitous in this modern life. 

I know it's been said before, but our dependence on fossil fuel is running us headlong into devastating consequences for the planet. Not just our furry/slimy/feathered/microscopic friends and the places they hang out in- this means you and me, fellow human. This is old news, unfortunately. I feel like I've known this all my life, and not a whole lot of progress has been made. I remember making a model of a solar powered house in fourth grade. I knew then we needed to change our wicked ways and the house seemed like a completely reasonable option. That was probably twenty years ago. A fifth of a century. Precious planet saving time squandered while the internet transformed the world and the global economy linked our resources and our histories, but apparently not our needs or efforts.

It seems to me that as a culture we've begun acting like someone with a terminal illness. We understand that our little day-to-day choices are harmful, but we're just sick and tired of being sick and tired. We know we're overweight and under-exercised and exposed to a myriad of toxins, it's just gotten exhausting to keep track of it all and is beginning to feel futile and like deprivation to try. This is true for many individuals and can also be a metaphor for the state of our planet. 

I know that many people have been working hard to make some changes in their personal lives as they can. I also know that personal change is not enough and larger scale forces must also change their ways (especially industrial meat production). I don't think it has to be impossible or terrible, but it does look grim.

I've spent the summer working on a farm, trying to feed a family from scratch as much as possible and trying to put away food for the winter months. We've fallen far short of being wholly prepared- my sarcastic solution, of course, is a diet of ramen noodles and canned soups. One thing I've learned from all this is that people didn't move off the farm, buy processed foods in boxes and shop at huge one-stop grocery stores because they're morally void or lazy. But because this is all really hard work. A person has to be smart, organized, creative and possess a healthy stamina to make a realistic effort. And even then, it calls upon these virtues to a much greater capacity than the available alternatives. 

I've been trying to live up to this. Now Buddha and I are trying together. Hopefully we'll get even more help than this in the not too distant future. We're not Luddites, but we also are not WOWed by every latest gadget guaranteed to identify and fulfill us. One of our major projects from this summer has been learning to can. In the picture above you see our tomatillo salsa, tomatoes, pickled beets and blueberry jam. Almost all the ingredients are from local sources, which we're pretty proud of. 

I know that I'm trying to focus this blog on my art/craft practice, but it really feels connected to these larger issues. My craft and art are part of the larger project of my life, and my life is part of my time/effect on the earth. I have a hard time seeing relevant divisions between these things. I think for now I'm going to get into one of those tomato cans and make us some chili for this stormy day. Then perhaps on to sewing...

I do other stuff goodish too

Friends, I am transitioning out of my 40-hour-a-week job and into the nebulous beyond. This means I might just get a chance to make yet another shot at making my living from what I love to do best- make things. It is an exciting and scary time for me for a number of reasons. You see, I have a hard time actually believing that this is a possibility for me. At the same time, given the state of these troubled times I feel that getting back to trading concrete things for other concrete things might be the best shot we've got.

I studied sculpture as an undergrad and worked a lot in textiles, and I still do. I have a bit of a line drawn between my craft and art practice which I have a hard time maintaining or defining. Functionality is a factor. Conceptual complexity is a factor. Mass appeal is a factor as well. But to what degree and what objects land in which category is not honestly governed by a clear system. So, I'd like to share some pictures and history about my making process as an artist and not just a crafter. 

This piece was part of my BFA thesis show and is titled 'But man is born to trouble, surely as sparks fly upwards' . It is my own arms with lace embedded into the surface and cast in iron. The lace reads like some sort of scarring or tattoos. They each have a channel cut from the armpit to the wrist which was initially intended to keep the weight reasonable, but became an interesting element. 

They are filled with felted roving that bulges out at the joint between the two. The gesture of the arms is meant to be that of carrying firewood, but their position also references kneeling legs. This, in conjunction with the soft joint and lace, make the arms decidedly female and somewhat sexualized. 

The boards they're resting on and the pile of wood both incorporate felt from sweaters. It acts as a stripe on the floor and covers the ends of some of the firewood pieces. The bark had come off some of the pieces of wood and the galleries of the boring insects were exposed and visually echoed the lace of the arms. 

This is the "Other Mother". She is a doll a little less than 2' tall made out of raw fleece, construction cloth, plastic, glass, human hair, cloth, embroidery floss, wood and an unfortunate frog that was plasticized in a pitcher of resin on accident. She comes from a story about a mother who eventually, as threatened, abandons her tricked-into-being-wicked children to the Other Mother with a glass eye and a wooden tail. It's a rather terrifying story, so I tried to create a piece that would also be dreadful. 

She is toughly felted and still smells of sheep and it uncomfortable to hold as her tail see-saws against the rest of her body and her flapping hand legs. 

I've shown her a few times, most recently in the Grand Rapids Festival of the Arts in Grand Rapids, MI. At the moment, she is to precious for me to part with, but I will hopefully be starting some new dolls of comparable impact. 

PS, the date on this is wrong for some reason. Consider this an early October 2010 post.