Random Thoughts and Work

Posted on by Sandy Webster

After returning from Australia I noticed slight changes with Lee. So started the third hand of Responsibilities. Not only helping him take the garbage out but sometimes assisting with the tying of shoes, and reminding of teeth brushing. Emptying the litter box as he just does not notice it and using the hose on the vacuum cleaner. Plus he no longer drives anywhere, so I added his car key. Some days he can have no problems, and others, just a reminder can do. Here are the other two hands.

After sewing up the Meditation Journal, I decided to patch a jacket I bought about thirty years ago. Funny how you simply do not notice how things are falling apart and then that is all you see. Well I love this jacket so decided to just patch it up. I need to attach this patch to the back, not because it wore out there, but because I need some patches in other places.

Sleeves and pocket edges are the first to go. then why not just patch over all the spills? Another thirty years for this jacket is quite possible.

And I started on the bundling of the patriarchs. This is a copy from a slide made years ago….mid 90s. He was the strangest to wrap so he went first.

Teaching Stamina

There are several of this series but I am running a bit short of wrapping. Art Group comes later today and I think some will come with them. Otherwise the recycle store for old sheets is a trip planned for this next week. Once I finish all the “boys” I think I will shellac what I have so far.

On random thinking. These are things that I wonder about. How can a channel on TV run crime stories all day and night then when you turn it on in the very early morning there is a guy with dyed brown hair preaching the merits of giving lots of money to what appears to be a complying audience? Does god know these fellows are working so hard at filling their pockets with the savings of the gullible?

And another thought….who is it that climbs those trees and telephone poles to repaint the words, “Repent” and “Jesus Saves”? I never see anyone….only fresh paint….is there a miracle involved?

These are Sunday thoughts. Other days I never think of it. And another, do the evangelical women have some stock in cosmetic companies….especially eye makeup?

Okay, that is all I have today.

On a fun note, I told Lee this morning as we passed one pasture full of white cows, then some houses and another pasture full of black cows, that one of the houses was a paint shop that they all passed through to change color. On our return from the breakfast diner we noticed some of the black cows got past the paint house and mixed with the white ones at the other end. Both of us were amused by that.

Til later.

Burial Beginnings

Posted on by Sandy Webster

I went through all the spare white fabrics that I had and tore them into strips for bundling the first of the artwork to be buried. And to be honest it was difficult in the beginning for me to wrap the first house.

But once the wrapping started, the care of each turn of a newly added length of cloth, it became easier. Explaining why to our son who came down for a few days visit was easier than I thought it would be. He felt sad about it. I asked, “What should I do with the pieces?” He only said that he wished there was a place for them to go. And I said, “There is a place and I am getting them ready.” I think he gets it now.

I used raffia to hold the wrapping cloth more tightly. It is a nod to my earlier basketry days.

House number two closed up and ready for wrapping. Here is a peek inside to the interior and the chair I left behind when escaping into the open. The interior wall papers were photographed images of inside the house Dolph Smith grew up in and copies of papers an artist friend had at the time. They reminded me of the wall coverings of my childhood. Another word for “childhood” I heard from my Indian cab driver in Victoria. He called it his “earlyhood”. I like that so much better because it does not always conjure up the idea of small children.

The last of the three.

All of them bundled.

And the goal of an empty box.

In the box was the house-shaped planning book. I could not wrap it up with the houses because I also used it to contain all my notes on a boat series that followed the houses. I really love all the thinking that went into working on how to portray what these houses meant to me…the houses of growing up. There are several quotes from Gaston Bachalard in this planning book. He had so much to say about the house in his Poetics of Space book.

What was very interesting to me was how often I changed my focus on what I wanted these houses to say. Were they only about escape? Weren’t they also about knowing there was a place to come back to? It seems that this little planning book was a great way to explore what mattered about doing this work and how it should look when finished.

At the time I made them I sure did not consider how they’d look the last time I would see them. Now it is just the shellac and a bit of rosemary tied to each piece. (The rosemary is because there have always been bushes of it outside my studio and I think it has something to do with memory.)

Shellacking won’t come until I get all the patriarchs bundled and that is going to take some time.

Til later.

 

The Starting Point of What to Bury

Posted on by Sandy Webster

The statement of these houses when they appeared in an exhibition titled, “Evidence of Experience” is as below. I think the year of the exhibition was 2000 at a local gallery where I filled the entire space with words and works that depicted my “evidence”.

Where I Once Belonged

“It was a patriarchal system where men managed the means of acquisition and made the decisions which determined our lives. The woman’s obligation (and usually desire) was to ease those determinations into existence.  As children we knew our place, our value, and our limitations.  We also knew that we were not necessarily needed and therefore easily excused to wander and explore our natural world in complete safety and with wild abandon.”

Those were certainly different times.

It was a series of houses replicating the one of my childhood and my desire to escape to the outside, to be free of being a part of the family. I was a child who needed elbow room. So the houses show my escape routes. Escape from that linoleum flooring of squares in brown and beige, that old fashioned wall paper, those curtained windows, the feeling of being closed in. I am sure I was a happy child, just a private one.

A book pulled out from another house with memories written and bundled into the attic.

The writing came from a paper I wrote in graduate school titled, “Observations on the Familiar and How They Determine Our Sense of Place”. 

Note: I really loved graduate school. Maybe not at the times I had to defend my work, but it made me really think about what mattered enough to make art about.

Anyway, these pieces will be the first to be wrapped and shellacked for the eventual burial. And because I mention the patriarchal system I was raised in, the patriarchs will be buried with them.

There are several more of those dear old patriarchs in the series….old men teaching the next generation how to be mindful of their responsibilities.

It is a whole lot of wrapping to get this section ready to go down first and I will have to find a designated area to pile the bundles. I might miss their company in the studio but it is time to let these things go.

The next layer after that will likely be the personal works about being a woman and the insecurities of all that entails. Not as large a group of bundles but sure do wish I had taken care of that a long time ago. So I am looking forward to a tight wrap on that work.

Then maybe the war works. Next the Expedition pieces which is the largest grouping I think.

Anyway, I am sorting out my thoughts and the pieces as I look for fabrics to strip and check my shellac supply.

Til later.

Home and Getting Along with Ideas

Posted on by Sandy Webster

We are back to walking the dam five days a week. This morning it was lovely. The water like glass.

I also returned to the gym at 5:30 this morning…rode the bike, did upper body workout and then boxed the heck out of the bag. All felt good.

Then just now I mailed this piece to a friend in Australia.

I am trying to find homes for some of the artworks that I have. Australia inspired works should find a home over there. The book below also went to a friend down under.

And I have decided that other works done for exhibition will all stay together and have a proper burial. Each piece mummy wrapped, shellacked and laid to rest. I shall keep myself occupied this summer preparing the wrapping strips and bundling.

I like the whole idea that they might just be discovered years from now and prompt a digging of the site…..a discovery all over again. Some pieces are anti war works that after going on exhibit returned home….no one wants reminders of war.

Another exhibit going to ground will be the entire Expedition to Elsewhere: the Evidence. How appropriate is that! All of it is biodegradable as most of my works are made from natural materials.

And since I have so much of the Native American sweet grass, I will use it to smudge each exhibit as it is laid to rest. And the soils collected for years to make earth pigments will naturally find a place to settle.

The joy was in the making, the exhibiting…not the storing or dispersing in parts and pieces. While I can I will give it all a final resting place. Burning was good for some of my work…but not the ones to be buried. I do know that the grave will have to be at least ten feet long, five feet deep and four feet wide.  But I don’t have to call in the digger for some time. Wrapping is going to take a while.

I will document as I go with this plan. For now I need to get started on making strips.

Til later.