Zaydee curled up on her bed near the wood stove while a fire crackles. I'm musing over this freshly carved mini-reliquary while sipping on my 2nd cup of tea.
A day in the life (1000 feet above town)
Perched at the end of the road near the top of a mountain comes with perks. My humble home and sweet studio are surrounded by sky, blessed with serenity, visited by wild critters, teased with Momma Nature’s fresh aroma and exude a sense of magic.
But it can be a bit western up here. Last week when town got about 4 inches of slippery wet snow, I got over two feet. Slippery. Snotty. Wet. Snow.
Beautiful?
Certainly. Snow comes in more than a dozen varieties (I could ramble about the benefits and pitfalls of each type of snow but will stay focused.) Last week’s storm left the kind of snow that makes tires spin faster than a DJ’s record. I allowed an extra 20 minutes to dig my truck out from beneath the deep stuff, loaded Zaydee into the back seat and within 8 seconds was stuck. Two and a half hours later we were on our way to town.
Luckily my daily commute to work doesn’t require tire chains, shovels or seat heaters. I get to pull on my boots and stroll through the woods.
Snow tells secrets...
Saturday afternoon
"Through the Veil of the Soul"
A day in the life...
Before sunrise: Drove beneath a scrawny slice of moon nearly smudged out by fuzzy dark starless sky. Maneuvered the slick icy obstacle course of zipping ghost white jackrabbits on my way to the gym. After sunrise: Stopped on the flats after the cattle guard just before the climb home to wait for 15 deer to cross. The last young'n had a troublesome hitch in its gait but the others waited and watched out for the little bugger who opted to crawl under the barbwire fence rather than leap over it.
Mini-reliquary - a peek into the process
Christmas is coming...
What a sweet treat to yourself or memorable gift for the holidays...! Cast in solid bronze, these two palm-size sculptures have been finding special places to live all over the country. I love it when collectors share photos of the sculptures in their new homes. Orders must be placed this week in order to be cast, gift-wrapped and shipped in time for Christmas...!
Artprize recap
I knew next-to-nothing about Artprize until the day before the deadline when artist Adonna Khare enthusiastically encouraged me to enter. Adonna won the $200,000 prize two years ago at Artprize; her award-winning artwork was featured earlier this year at the Yellowstone Art Museum in Billings (where our friendship began). While the California artist was in Montana for the exhibit opening at the YAM the poor girl was hit with a bout of pneumonia which landed her at the hospital where she saw my sculpture installation “I Never Promised You a Rose Garden” at the Billings Clinic. Adonna said she continued to dream about the trees months after seeing them.
Despite my late entry, I was selected from more than 6000 applicants to participate in Artprize and asked to exhibit at one of the top three venues. The sculptures created quite a buzz at the world’s largest art prize competition featuring artists from more than 50 countries. A local newscaster picked my sculptures as a personal favorite from over 1500 entries and featured “I Never Promised You a Rose Garden on the local news. The public’s response was overwhelming, each day some stranger was moved to gift me something. People brought back family and friends to see the trees over and over again. I was voted the “Top 25” in my category – quite an accomplishment for a first-time entrant I am told.
The Artprize competition seemed like a good opportunity to show the sculptures and gain exposure to help realize my passion to create healing sanctuaries in hospitals and cancer centers. The sincere emotional heart-warming response the sculptures elicited from thousands of people at Artprize motivates me more than ever to continue to create art with a healing purpose.
Golden skull
Inspiration Point: Brené Brown
I feel like a kitten who just got a good "lick bath" from momma cat: Seen. Heard. Loved. Understood. And yes. I'm feeling a bit damp too (from tears). Thank-you Brené Brown
[embed]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=psN1DORYYV0[/embed]
Getting back into the studio
I pine for my studio/creative life when I am away from it too long. I even get grumpy like someone who has skipped too many meals or given up chocolate. But I do not actually bounce back into the studio like a dog with my tail wagging. The process is more akin to that of a mother hen who is inclined to rest up, clean house, get things in order and zip playfully about the barnyard (or adventure beyond) before settling down to the mental task of preparing to lay eggs and the commitment of sitting on them.
So I hiked. I mountain biked. I raged war on the mice that took over my cabin during my absence and I super-deep-cleaned the horrific messes the mice made while partying all over my home. I napped. Eventually I sifted through piles of mail, unloaded the sculptures, cleaned the studio, took care of my mother and caught up with my closest friends. I read a book (or two). I ate more junk food than usual and drank more whiskey than normal.
I climbed a mountain. The very next day I found myself back in the studio making piles of woodchips and sawdust. Feels sooooooo good to be back at it!!!
Better than chocolate…
Post-show summit fever
Halloween arrived with loads of sunshine. I’d saved my urge to climb a peak until artist Stephanie Revenaugh returned from weeks of shows so that we could share “post-show summit therapy” together. Perfect way to reconnect with each other, talk about our passions, plot business, vent, ground and regroup with the aid of Momma Nature after each of us put in grueling weeks away at shows.
This is how we rest…
Home Sweet Home
"The mountains were still to me a temple, where I went not to pray, but to feel the touch of the infinite."
The lovely quote was written by a nineteenth-century prostitute whose eloquent autobiography "Madeleine" surprised me with moments of spirit-kinship. I finished the book early this morning at sunrise - which now occurs after I get home from 6 am yoga. The days are freakishly shorter upon my return after the month-long Artprize endeavor. Pre-yoga dramatic sunrises have been replaced by bold stars and crisp cold. The embrace of my cozy little cabin home in the mountains beneath an expansive ever-changing sky is tonic to a soul wearied by recent endeavors.
I took a much-needed off-grid sabbatical after my return from Grand Rapids two weeks ago. The life of a full-time artist/solo entrepreneur so far as I've managed involves plenty of hyper-long days but I have never put myself through such an extremely demanding marathon of a public event. The added intensity of being in the world's largest art prize competition was excruciating (just being honest). Nineteen 14-hour days of standing next to my sculptures sharing, opening, revealing, giving, receiving, observing, explaining and smiling.
Good to be home...!
Unexpected gift
Moved to tears yesterday when a man named Joe approached me. He said he had visited my installation the day before, heard me talk to others about the sculptures, went home, watched my TED talk and "got an epiphany" which compelled him to gift me a sweet set of router bits as a gift compelled by my passion. "Thank-you for your rose garden" was written inside the wooden box carefully wrapped in a small padded cooler with bottled water for me. Blinking back tears, I drifted upstairs to settle myself into a wingback chair near the giant chandelier above the reliquary sculptures - a puddle of emotions - feeling so much from people here at Artprize
Artprize goodness
The past five days are a bit of a blur shared with thousands of art-seeking peeps. Amongst the heart touching, soul tugging, authentic and affirming connections are plenty of simply entertaining sweet bits of people watching.
Dozens of stories are piled on top of each other; some are melting together in rich gooey feel-goodness as people share their excitement, awe and appreciation for the sculptures. I have much to share – but seriously little time or energy after spending my mornings, afternoons and evenings at the Amway Grand Plaza Hotel. Today I was moved-to-tears more than once as people hugged me, brought gifts, shared their stories, insights and gratitude for the work I do.
Humbled with gratitude…
Montana to Michigan - the show must go on...
Between taking down the “I Never Promised you a Rose Garden” installation at the Billings Clinic a little over a week ago and installing the same sculptures in Grand Rapids, MI for Artprize two days ago, a whole thick long-winded chapter of drama with epic twists and turns has occurred. Crazy good-weather luck blessed my crew despite an early season snowstorm/blizzard on the day of the un-install. A few days later, an outrageous blood red bold moonrise beamed “all will be well” energy during a middle of the night rescue mission when I drove across Montana in a borrowed truck belonging to someone I have never met when friends (and a friend-of-a-friend) pulled together to help the sculptures continue on their journey to Michigan after my truck broke down when Cliff was hundreds of miles into the 1500 mile journey. Four a.m. Wednesday I met the crew after a sleepless night to drive to Bozeman, catch a few planes and pull off an all-night-with-dramatic-twists install. A lifetime passed and a few grey hairs may have sprouted in an unbelievably long chapter squished between 2 sunsets but I am full of gratitude for a faithful crew and a "big picture" which seems wiser than the attachments felt along the way. Things happen for a reason…
I am short on photos but long on good feelings about the synchronicity and good grace that got the sculptures settled into their beautiful location at the Amway Grand Plaza Hotel.
The Neruda Series finds homes
Only nine out of eighteen sculptures are left. But you can see twelve of them together in a beautiful inviting good-energy place by visiting the Wheatgrass Saloon in Livingston. The opportunity to have an exhibit in my own lovely town is a rare treat
First dog-less ride
Zaydee hasn’t been on every mountain bike ride since some are simply too long, hot and arduous for a dog but for twelve years she has been my enthusiastic faithful companion on most rides. She gets excited when I pull on padded shorts. She flips out at the trailhead when I gear up to go. Together we have covered hundreds of miles of single track. But at something around 14 years old (she is adopted) – she is showing her age. She can’t even keep up with me when I go for a run (and I am hardly a “runner”). We are coming to grips with this transition. I find myself full of gratitude for what we have shared and guilt for leaving her behind.
Carhartt photoshoot
Carhartt photographer Jennifer just left my studio after a sawdusty shoot – a sweet gal with a cool job hopping about the country photographing women for the blog “Crafted in Carhartt” about “women who do amazing things.” Carhartt sponsored me nearly two decades ago – before they made clothes for women – in fact my studio work clothes closet is full of Carhartt bib overalls (which are hard to wear out despite the gazillion hours I work in them. I added a “vintage” Carhartt cap from my closet to the photo shoot ensemble. Pretty fun to get some new “girlie” duds and turn Carhartt onto two other awesome Carhartt women; Stephanie Revennaugh and Ona Magaro. Jennifer was totally “wowed” by my studio – said it was absolutely the best studio she has visited during her year+ photographing for Carhartt. Will share photos when I have them…
Pure Oxygen
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/g2PkphVSJQQ" frameborder="0" allow="autoplay; encrypted-media" allowfullscreen> Someone from the Oprah network contacted me about a show called, “Fearless Women.” I laughed and admitted that I am anything but fearless. I told them they should name their show “Gals with Gumption” to honor those of us who pursue our passions despite our fears. The result is this five-minute segment about my life and work.