My community woodshop has been closed since March 14. Needless to say I have not done any turning since then. I’ve been busy with home organization and modest renovations. My friend, Mary Anne has helped me cut some thin cement board and I am now ready to return to my glass roots. As many of you know I have been dabbling in water color and sketching. Working on those skills has helped me develop new techniques for conceptualizing my glass ideas. Soooooo here is a design concept for a 40” x 22” mosaic
A friend of a friend (https://balmerart.com/blog-posts/) who self publishes catalogs about his work inspired me to revisit my wood turning art of the past three years and reflect on the role my art has played along the way to becoming Alone.
Before Richard (my partner of 40 years) died I read a couple of books about dying. One in particular “When Breath Becomes Air” (https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25899336-when-breath-becomes-air) was particularly poignant as it was written by a man, Paul Kalanithi who battles and eventually succumbs to metastatic lung cancer. His wife Lucy, wrote the epilogue. While I cannot remember the details (part of my brain’s cleansing activity) I do remember the emotions. Heartbreaking and yet inspiring. Survival was possible without losing the spirit of the love lost.
Initially I started “Path of the Cherimoya” as a way to explain to myself what has been going on in my head both consciously and sub-consciously. As it progressed and started to develop a life of its own I felt comfortable sharing it with a few trusted friends. While intensely personal there is nothing unique about the situation. Many people have and continue to find themselves alone after a mutually compelling relationship comes to an end. “Path of the Cherimoya” represents just one questioning voice where art and personal reflections on life’s changes meld to describe an emotional journey without a destination as yet…
The fifth in my Full Moon series. A Canadian friend of mine recently introduced me to a new french term for twilight: entre le chien et le loup. The literal translation is between the dog and the wolf. It’s such a perfect poetic expression!
My moon series is progressing as I contemplate my own struggles with returning to a regular sleep pattern. With each piece, the caption embodies aspects of my battles with sleeplessness. Here in the desert we don’t have wolves but we do have plenty of coyotes who call to each other at twilight, and later in the night too. There is nothing more comforting to me to hear them and imagining them running free in an alternate universe right outside my window …..