Studio Site Progress

“You won’t manifest it unless you can visualize it,” Paul said to me several times during the past two years. He would push a blank piece of paper under my nose after breakfast or get out a pen to draw on a napkin during dinner - each time coaxing me to draw my dream studio. Deeply impressed that he actually used the words visualize and manifest (seriously…this coming from a man with work hardened calloused hands) I realized with shock that I had lost a bit of my own belief in magic. Somehow my optimism lost its polish these past few years while faced with financial challenges, major surgery, no insurance, large medical bills, a bank which seemed keen to take my home and no studio to work in. Paul’s belief in manifesting fueled my imagination. I started taking pictures of old barn buildings, sketched and talked about my dream studio.  He began to salvage wood.

A shift occurred. Tarnished tired places began to beam. Polished. My belief in the BIG picture strengthened me during my father’s sudden terminal illness and death. I grieve. I embrace blessings too numerous to count. 

Now this:

 

The Universe has stepped up and drawn aside a huge heavy stage curtain with relish and a big “TA DA!!”

 

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Dream Come True...

A rather recent client bloomed instantly into a friend.  Now the beautiful bloom has sprouted into patron who hired Paul (without telling me) to build a studio for me on the mountain!!!!!

Did you just have to reread that sentence?  I can hardly believe it myself!!!  My very own studio.
 
A gift.
 
Blink       Blink      Blink
 
Gulp
 
Warm fuzzies, speechless and ecstatic!!!!
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Art Schlepping

Yesterday three fellas and I delivered “Sojourn” to the Jet Center. Today I’m off to Helena with a trailer to pick up the two “Reliquary” sculptures recently exhibited in “Outside the Box.” While I don’t mind rolling across the autumn Montana landscape to Helena and I look forward to a visit with the awesome people and place the Holter Museum offers - I must admit that my studio work is engaging – thus difficult to put on the back-burner.

Will be good for me to take a break and snack on art…
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Sense of Place(s)

An innate sense of place is hard wired into my central nervous system. The need to nest chirps incessantly like hungry baby chicks and follows me wherever I go. Perhaps it has something to do with art – creating composition whether that composition is inside a tent, the front seat of my truck, at home or in a drawer. The arrangement of things or even the absence of things and the space between things affects everything. Objects have energy. Space reflects the energy of the objects and the inhabitants. I don’t need much BUT the things that make their way into my life are carefully selected and consciously arranged.
 

My home is a haven. My studio is not simply a shop with tools. 

Sharing a chunk of my life with Paul and the kids in Bozeman during the past year is a “cup-runneth-over” blessing. Four souls (new loved ones) landed in my life not long before a year punctuated with the loss of my father and the surgical removal of some significant girlie parts. While I mourned the loss of my ability to have children the Cosmos gifted me – not with motherless children- but with three children whose hearts are big enough to love another momma-ish being in their lives.  Blessings and surprises never cease; the little buggers teamed up with two of my nieces to perform a play for my father after his pancreatic cancer diagnosis AND they each made mother’s day cards for me. 

Goosebumps, tears, and a grin. 

I was careful not to tromp on the familiar home they previously shared with both of their parents while the bond between us blossomed. I felt like a misplaced flower in a garden not at all like my own – I tip-toed through the tulips.   Last week we moved from that over-large vacuous echo-filled unconsciously arranged place into a smaller comfy family-oriented home near a creek at the base of a canyon within their school district. PHEW! Our new home feels weed-free and ready for us to arrange ourselves with each other in mind. The rented house is older but the energy is fresh and family oriented. I call it “The Hyalite House.”Unexpectedly life has placed me in three gardens at once: my cabin at the end of the road near the top of a mountain, the studio, and now – the Hyalite House. Skipping, rooting, creating, settling and embracing.

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First Post-surgery Summit

Long awaited – at last – I sat on top of a mountain Sunday. 

Phew!!

I had no idea the healing process would take as long as it has or that life would challenge me enough that the need to challenge myself with a peak would not be a priority but I must say that being on top of a mountain felt really good!!! 
Mentally, spiritually and…yes…strangely enough even physically it felt good even though I was slow, out of shape, and hurting in places I haven’t hurt in awhile but a good hurt if that makes any sense. Three days have passed and I can still feel that summit in my feet, calves and thighs but I am grinning. 
 
“Elephant Head” is the name of the mountain I tagged in the Beartooths –a rather odd looking but compelling peak not far from my cabin. We picked and ate wild raspberries (in October!) 
The weather was perfect. Zaydee had a blast. Even she was stiff and sore for a few days since we haven’t been going out on a regular basis but I am itching to get fully back in shape and get after it (ice climbing season is just around the corner!)
 
 
 
 
 
 
Elephant Head is the squarish looking peak in the middle of the photo.  The peak doesn't resemble an Elephant in the photo but it certainly does once a person hikes up to the ridge and around to the backside of the peak.
 
 
 
 
 
Do you see an elephant?
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Stetson Legacy (and a proud mom)

Tears sprung into my mother’s eyes Sunday when I returned from the Women Who Design the West show in Cody, Wyoming. Sporting my new black Stetson hat (given to me by Pam Fields the CEO of Stetson when I was inducted with nine other women into Stetson’s Craftsman Alliance) mom smiled with her voice full of emotion as she remembered my grandfather’s pride when he could afford his first Stetson hat. Mom was about 10 years old when Grandpa bought his first Stetson. He was a farmer in Nebraska who raised endless fields of wheat along with twelve children. My precious beautiful graceful and tough-as-nails grandmother was by his side for fifty-seven years (and many Stetsons).

Earlier Sunday morning, Cliff and I were busy loading the last of my art into Paul’s trailer outside the auditorium. We had to dodge a fresh pile of deer poop left by the beautiful momma (or one of her two babies) on the sidewalk. The sweet big-eared-bright-eyed family enjoyed munching at the buffet outside the auditorium (trees and grass). Once the trailer was packed and road-ready, Cliff and I gorged on the buffet at the historic Irma Hotel. I hit the road with a buzz from the special whiskey sauce poured onto my bread pudding at breakfast - an Irma specialty. We pulled out of Cody and headed toward Chief Joseph Highway; sore from moving heavy sculptures. I wore a grin.  My whiskey sauce buzz was only partly responsible for the smile - the whole event was spiked with talented women and new friends.  We rambled home in the late afternoon sun past sagebrush, mountains, small farms and autumn colors; my new Stetson hat packed away carefully in the back seat of the truck.   

Stetson photos take by XiaoLi - a talented filmmaker and Fullbright scholar.

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"Making things right and the best they can be"

That’s Stetson’s motto, “Making things right and the best they can be.”   I will be honest. I had no idea what Stetson’s motto was until today after meeting Pam Fields the CEO. Stetson’s motto makes the honor of being inducted into the Stetson Craftsman Alliance meaningful. I don’t cut corners when it comes to craftsmanship in my work. Never have. None of the 10 women inducted today make things less than the best they can be. Individuality, integrity, and lasting style define western values according to Stetson. I agree. 

Thanks Stetson. I appreciate your decision to honor women who embrace qualities inherent in your products. The big black hat bestowed by you on each of the women chosen to be recognized today is a dandy. I’m honored.
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Hard Wood + New Bits = Progress

My new Eagle America router bits cut hard wood like butter. No kidding. Slick. Smooth. Fast. Maybe “butter” is the wrong description since it implies the potential for mushy cuts but there is nothing mushy or sluggish about these precise crisp clean cutters. I cut deep. I remove LOTS of wood. I am working with raw logs not select precut prepared lumber. My current project is mesquite. Each 2000 pound log has intensely hard knots, sneaky soft spots and hidden holes - a combination of variables like little traps just waiting to muck up that perfect cut when free routing.  Dull, quick-to-dull, or easy-to-chip bits make the project of routing one inch deep in moody hardwood a potentially expensive disaster. Wrestling with low-quality bits turns the joy of working with wood into a task – much like trudging uphill on a slippery jagged slope with a ridiculously heavy pack and boots that hurt. 

Climbing mountains is one of my favorite outdoor pursuits. Running is a good way to stay in shape for my outdoor endeavors but I have never really liked running very much, especially uphill.  Jogging downhill is a welcome confidence boost. When my travels take me to sea level, I run with the theme song for “Rocky” in my head while resisting the temptation to throw up my arms and do the Rocky dance.  Do you remember the dance?  Sylvester Stalone does it at the top of the Philadelphia Art Museum steps (where I went to art school).  Eagle America recently sent me some complimentary new router bits to try and I can honestly say the theme for “Rocky” bounced in my head while the chips and sawdust piled up around me. Satisfying.
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Lay-away for me...

 “I haven’t done lay-away since high school” I quipped excitedly as I skipped out the door of Tart. I jumped into my truck and scooted across town to take the fresh grouse leftovers from dinner to my mother for lunch. Then I remembered. I actually have done layaway since high school; twice. 

My sweet stove was bought on layaway. Used. White. Gas. The friendly looking Wedgewood sports a built-in grill, broiler drawer, and room heater.   I just had to have it. Luckily the fix-it fella at the cluttered appliance repair shop was willing to accept $25 as down payment.  Several months and $175 later the classic beauty was mine! Smooth enamel rounded corners and plenty of chrome, my little cabin kitchen didn’t have electricity but my “new” stove sure made it homey.  The guy who installed my gas line offered $2,000 for the stove – enough money to get me through winter (in those days). Glad I kept the stove.
The only other layaway purchase since high school hangs in my cabin - an original artwork by Natalie Sudman.                                                                    Once again I have put money down on art. 
 
I am pleased! 
 
Tickled. 
 
I’ve admired Gabriel Kulka’s work during the past year, made pilgrimages to his exhibits and read the excellent article written by Michelle Corriel – a local writer who has a special knack when it comes to understanding artists and their work. Gabriel Kulka is a visual poet who packs a lot of punch into his timeless soul-licking intimate and interesting sculptures. Although I am still catching up in the studio and with life after an especially challenging year outside the studio - I feel re-charged with the promise of a new inspiring art piece by an artist whom I admire. Know what? I may have to make a habit of purchasing art on lay-away.  Feels like christmas 'cuz I have the tantilizing anticipation along with the good feeling similar to the gifting part of christmas since the purchase directs moola to both the gallery and the artist...a good feeling.
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NEW art

"Jubilee"

Three days of working in an air conditioned studio on a BIG beautiful ranch in Texas sandwiched between two days of travel last week. Travel days would be fun if it weren’t for the fact that I am easily prone to motion sickness. “Easily prone” means that I can get sick on a swing set. No exaggeration. But the recent commission is complete. I returned to my Montana studio yesterday and took a nap since I was too tuckered from my flight home to take after the big mesquite scultpures with power tools. 

Before the Texas trip, Patron Members got to see a preview of seven NEW artworks. “Jubilee” found a home right away and two other artworks were snatched up by my collectors. Thus, four new artworks have been posted on my site today. If you can identify just one of them as brand new then post a comment with your guess and if you are right, I will let you pick a limited edition print for free.

Take a look. Venture a guess…
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Texas frogs

The cutest frogs live in Texas. Seriously. I know Texas has HUGE toads and such but the regular little o’l frogs that hang out on the porch at the ranch early in the morning and on the country club sidewalk at night are simply better looking than frogs I have seen in other parts of the world. The Texas frogs are even cuter than the teeny tiny Coqui frogs that sing like birds in Puerto Rico. Perfectly proportioned with round little bellies and BIG eyes, they are beautiful…well…good looking anyway. 

Anyone who has visited my little cabin at the end of a road near the top of a mountain in Montana knows that I have a thing for frogs (and birds, and bunnies). I collect the little critters. They have also hopped into my paintings and even my favorite bronze piece (cast from a wood carving) features a frog. The frogs in Texas would make perfect models for future art projects. 
 
You’ll see…
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Pick of the Week

I believe his name says it all. “Hamlet” has a Shakespearian quality that is rough and ragged yet poetic and polished. I’m tempted to adopt him myself but would be happy if he found a loving home since the total purchase price of the "Pick of the Week” always goes toward charity. Visit the charity section of my blog if you’re curious.  Hamlet is half price this week. Enjoy

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Woodchips and Sawdust

Back in the studio making a mess with power tools and chisels has me feeling more like myself than I have felt in a good long while. I can hardly stand to take a day off since “work” entices. My paws are sore (out of shape) but it is SUCH a good feeling!!!

I guess the sawdust will get to settle a bit since early in the morning I have a plane to catch. Texas is my destination.  My "studio" for the next few days will be in the warehouse next to the chicken yard at Chaco Ranch.  I have a commission to complete. 
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Sweet Little Bits

Seasons in my world are usually punctuated with vivid challenging adventures: peaks, rivers, single track mountain bike trails, cliffs, slopes and frozen waterfalls. The past few seasons have been a bit of a blur without the periodic adventure punctuation points. Orange and red flashes in the foliage hint of autumn while crisp cool nights carry whispers of a new season.  

Fall is my favorite season. 
 
Actually every season is my favorite…which means I that I don’t actually have a favorite - but each season feels like a favorite when it is happening. Nostalgically, each season feels more like a favorite when the season is coming to a close. I am not sure what happened to summer…or spring…or last winter. Outdoor adventures were sparse since I have been healing from major surgery, wrapped up in family life, and blessedly back in the studio. Balance is allusive. Survival has been the mantra.
 
I can hardly call my father’s illness and death this spring a “punctuation point.” I can’t even wrap it up as a “chapter” or “saga.” Most days I hardly believe that Dad isn’t actually here…alive…with my mother in their house surrounded by a perfectly pruned yard animated with happy wild bunnies playing on the lush lawn or munching snacks on the deck. The lawn is no longer green since Mom and I cannot begin to manage Dad’s diligent sprinkler and lawn care vigil. Rabbits still play on the less-than-green lawn and eat at the flower-shaped bunny feeder. The riding lawn mower with the cigarette lighter Dad custom installed on the dash sits in the garage. Dusty.
 
Earlier this week I managed to squeeze a sweet little punctuation point with the kids into my summer.  Just two days before school started, we went for a late evening mountain bike ride followed by a full moon picnic at Hyalite Lake. Jolly from our ride, feeling the magic of the moon, satiated by yogurt, fresh fruit, and Grapenuts, we began a game of charades. Our actions danced in the moonlight accented by long shadows cast by the BIG round full moon. The lake sparkled and our laughter bounced off the mountain peaks which poked a sky filled with stars.  
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Pick of the Week

My family had a poodle named “Fifi” when I was a tot. I don’t remember her being as glamorous as this little lady. 

Last week was my first official "Pick of the Week."  "Sage" sold in about 20 minutes when I announced the original artwork on Facebook.  A few days later, some disturbing news arrived about my friend Walkin’ Jim Stoltz. How is it that one of the healthiest, kindest, most gentle of souls could be struggling with a nasty medical challenge? He has a place on his site for donations to help with the medical expenses and there it went - the moola from the first “Pick of the Week.”  "Fifi" is half price.  Her sale will support one charitable cause or another.  Check out Jim's site if you've a moment and a hankering to meet one of the extra special people who grace this planet (Jim is quite extrodinary)

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Bunny Abundance

Bunnies are in abundance this year. I love bunny years! Momma Nature seems to have her cycles..sometimes moths, moose, or mice (um…ok…always mice) but this year bunnies are everywhere – morning, noon, and night.

Alas, the bunny surplus has led to tragedy. Maya (my cat) is an excellent mouser. She is a super handy housekeeper for cabin-love’n mice but unfortunately her skills don’t stop there. Lately she has been grounded for the most part which means that she is IN MY FACE a good deal at night. Her protest tactics are highly developed and range from subtle (sitting within whisker tickling range of my nose while staring at me) to less than subtle (jumping on me in the middle of the night, howling, scowling, mewing and flinging herself about). Ugh.   Sadly, Miss Maya has successfully snuck out (I forgot to lock the screen door) or slunk out (I left the bathroom window open a crack while showering) or ran out (she ambushes me and scoots past while entering and exiting my house) which means that more than one bunny has gone to bunny heaven prematurely. Serious bummer…BIG bummer. Actually it is nightmarish to find a baby bunny ear on the bathroom floor. She brings the unfortunate furry little sweet rabbits inside my cabin to play with.   Thus - bunny saving missions punctuate my life when sly Maya slinks past the fact that she is grounded. More than one bunny has ended up tucked into my underwear drawer and even cuddled, protected, and slept with (I just love a bunny under the covers). Alas, only one has successfully been nursed, made it through rehab and been returned to the great outdoors. The cute tiny little bugger grew an inch during the few days of loving captivity. 

After the sweet little thing was stable, I took him over the mountain pass to my mother’s to finish his rehab and begin a new life in Mom’s “big rock candy mountain” backyard. Mom has abundant scrumptious grass…less predators…AND…she has a bunny feeder on her deck with “regulars” who stop by daily.
I LOVE rabbits…have some kind of soulful connection to them beyond my own big rabbit-like front teeth. They appear in my art, in self portraits (you have seen my logo?!) and as companions (pets Chanda, Baji, and Frida). I would very much prefer a rabbit over a cat for a pet. While Maya is an awesome mouse-catching, people-love’n, purring little athlete with an adorable under bite- she would be replaced with a dozen mousetraps and a pet bunny if it weren’t for my rabbit-chasing dog Zaydee.
Ugh. Zaydee is sweet, special, smart, soft, kind, and a good dog except she chases and catches rabbits.  She is…well…a dog (and fast).
Sigh
(both NEW bunny artworks were SOLD last week to a patron member before they were ever posted for sale on my website)
 
 
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Julia Martin

Inspired by the movie "Eat, Pray, Love" Julian Martin, a deep-souled, sparkly-eyed prolific artist from Nashville, TN decided to "hit the road."  She contacted her galleries (Nashville, Santa Fe, etc.) to announce a sudden sale -40% off - all her artworks, raised $10,000 in two weeks, had a buddy build a custom painting rack in the back of her Jeep Liberty, packed a tent and art supplies and TOOK OFF!

After a month of adventures, her GPS and gumption brought her here last night to my little cabin at the end of the road near the top of a mountain in Montana.  We drank wine while sitting next to a campfire on my deck under the stars and swapped stories.  We had never met before but my dear friend Wynn introduced me to images of Julia's delicate, bold and beautiful paintings more than a year ago.

I'm tickled and honored to have her up here on the mountain.  She slept "like a baby" in Granny's cabin last night.  While drinking my tea outside this morning, Julia and "Miss Liberty" showed up.  She stomped across my deck wearing short shorts, a flowing white blouse, red cowboy boots, and a grin.

We're both off to make art...

"Communion" (the painting above) can be seen along with other paintings on her website http://julia-martin.com

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