mostly for my own records, so I’ll remember

Things I’m thinking about between bouts of pondering the technical challenge posed by my next sculpture:

disorganized attachment

metta (aka loving-kindness meditation): I can’t find the article, but I read recently that if you want to kick your metta practice up a notch (aka feel like your heart got put through a juicer), you should not just bring a person to mind or send your kind thoughts out to them in a vague way, but imagine them sitting in front of you and then say the words right to their face.  Oof.

pepinos, horned melons, and cucamelons

Mark Flood Resents, a pop-up gallery where nothing was for sale

– that !@#$ red bucket

– Bruno Mars singing “Uptown Funk” while wearing gold curlers in his hair. Hot damn.

– hats, hats, hats! (this one is spoken for, and its owner is ROCKING IT!)

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ETA: Also, this thing:

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May you be safe. May you be happy and healthy. May you feel loved.

studio tour: Lindsay

This is Lindsay.  Last winter a couple of girls, maybe 11 years old, were visiting the studio and asked me what her name was.  I told them she didn’t have a name.  I said that they could name her if they liked.  So she’s Lindsay.

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She didn’t always have a red face.  I painted her and smeared her with plaster.  Someone recently referred to it as “warrior paint.”  I like that.  I didn’t make her hat/wig.  I bought it a long time ago at Revolution.  I never wear it.  It’s itchy.  I did make all those necklaces.  They are mostly knitted i-cord made from various kinds of sock yarn.  I wear the necklaces sometimes, even though they are itchy.

I bought Lindsay a few years ago and used her as a form to make a piece I call “the hunter.”  Here it is, partly finished:

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The hunter is the most cathartic thing I’ve ever made.  For several months, I had trouble being in the same room with her.  I was thinking of nkisi nkondi when I made her.  The making was a ceremony, during which a lot of odd things happened in my head.  She’s easier to live with now, but I still experience her as a vehicle of tremendous power.  She’s not so much a sculpture as a ritual object.

Lindsay stands near my bench and watches me while I work.  I don’t know if I’ll ever use her as a form for a sculpture again, but I’ve grown fond of her.  She can stay as long as she likes.