Resume Normal Programming.

The week ended with a cool down, and rain. It's still gloriously warm for this time of year and I'll take any time I can get, being outside in a park; but this just feels a bit more appropriate. Like many Michiganders, I can't help but feel we will pay for those 70's and 80's days in March with some other TBD weather misfortunes. It's only a matter of time...course if you look for the negative, you will surely find it.

In any case, I transferred a drawing onto a woodblock a couple weeks ago, but couldn't bring myself to spend time in front of the basement workbench, when there was a premature Summer to be had. But today? Beautiful certainly, but not luring me to go lay down in the grass somewhere. So, armed with the first bowl of coffee, I did some initial carving on another Cakeasaurus design. A lovely way to start out a Saturday! After an unusual 6 weeks or so, it felt like a nice return to normalcy.

 After that, I checked out the 30x30 event at the Ann Arbor Art Center and I'm so glad I went! It was my first attendance and it definitely made me want to return, if not try to participate next year. The basic gist: 30 artists make 30 works of art in 30 days and they're all on sale for $40 each. Super? Super! I totally missed the driving altruistic part, in my need for stimulation: the proceeds go to the Art Center's Art for Kids program. I felt a little bashful that this had totally passed me by -- but I inadvertently did my best. So.

The offerings were pretty varied, the exhibit spaces were bustling and signs everywhere intoned: "If you remove an item from the wall, you are expected to purchase it." The latter part struck me as bit brusque, but I saw the wisdom in it soon enough when the hoarding part of me kicked in, wanting to amass my favorites prior to actual decision making. There would have been little art hoarding piles nestled in all the room corners and resentments would definitely have run high.

So I wound up circling several times and falling into conversation with various art acquaintances -- a lovely way to spend Saturday afternoon. Anastassia Fulmer had a nice wall of prints fused to plywood boards, including a cagey looking pigeon and a contorted rabbit who sported nice classic woodblock lines. She's a senior at UofM's School of Art & Design and will be featured in the senior show opening on April 13th, though I'm a little unclear which building will house it.

The always entertaining Jason Gibner was there with his happy-making paintings, which will certainly sell out by tomorrow's show. Ryan Weiss, who made that great house piece for "Reclaimed" in Wyandotte was close to selling out when I came through, as were Stephanie Salamone's screenprints.

 

Meanwhile, I had quite a time deciding between bowls and vases by local ceramicist and bartender Mark Ehrman. I really liked some of the darker glazes and designs created by tape resist, but this pastelly one pulled ahead in a surprise win.

Calming shades, nice variations and speckles

Trio of troublemakers. Robot vase by Douglas Spalding in background

...and wacky clay figures by Diane Hawkey. The more I look at them, the more they grow on me.

Stop looking at us like that. We don't need any trouble here. Actual acorn as beret: niiiiiiiice.

Sweetly satisfying. Small painting on gessoboard by Darlene Mowatt.

If you're local, this event's continues tomorrow from noon-5. Though many of us have already scooped the lot of you. Mwahaha.

I hope you don't mind if I call you a gaffer~~

At first I thought I wanted to write a blog post. But apparently what I need to do is to listen to "Mr. Dobalina" repeatedly and dance around in my chair. Even when I time my hunting and pecking to the beats, the going is slow (but jaunty!) and the chair wheels work just a little too well. It really would be sad if I gave myself a concussion because I couldn't quite be bothered to *stand* and dance. Especially when I managed to avoid one when I did the downhill faceplant a couple weeks ago. Tempting fate. One of the YouTube suggestions is Snow, Informer. Hahaha! Ahh, cassingles. Okay, one more play and then I'm done.

So, with that less than illustrious lead-in, it's time for a few words about Barbara Yerace, local glass blower extraordinaire. Her educators include the Corning Museum of Glass and Pilchuck Glass School, among others; her work graces the DIA giftshop (schwanky!), the Ann Arbor Art Center and WSG Gallery. I especially like her jubilee vases. And it's a good thing that she has some online visibility, because the photos I tried to take at her studio were less than stellar... The thing is, I was gawking, somewhere between hyper about being there and hypnotized by the molten glass. Naturally, she was moving quickly and I'm just not much of a photographer. Here's a typical shot:

kind of makes you think of Cocteau Twins, doesn't it?

Meanwhile, she's a total pro, has been doing this for years; she inhabits her studio as you'd expect. Fluid focused movements. She shares the basic details of her art, so as not to overwhelm the complete novice; and asks about life doings. I have trouble stringing a narrative along, because really, I'd be happy to watch this for hours. I think my need to soak it in visually is impairing my ability to absorb any other information.

I mean yes, you have the furnace, with molten glass, then you have a second, smaller heat source that you use to keep your emerging shape flexible enough to work with; then comes hours in the annealer, ever so slowing bringing the glass to room temperature. Yes, I got that much. By the by, the auxiliary furnace is christened the glory hole. Not by Barbara, mind you, but by glass blowers in general. And apparently it's also a nautical and a mining term. One may also watch "Glory Hole Tips" from glassblowers on YouTube. It pretty much calls all 12 year old brains to rise up, leaving most anyone exclaiming, "What?? It is NOT called that" and snickering periodically.

I saw her second glory hole before I knowingly saw her first, since she gave me a walk-around tour of the studio before she settled into glassblowing (she has a teaching space on the second floor!); she gestured to one side, "Oh, that's my other glory hole."

"What. I-- What's it called??"

Naturally, she has had this exchange hundreds of times. Yes, really. "Seriously??"  Yes, I *know* right? That is *truly* what it's called. Once upon a time a reporter wrote up a visit to her studio and simply gave it another name. Sidestepping: accomplished.


Which was really my first intro to it. And though I didn't know what it was from the driveway, it was the wonderful orange glow of the glory hole that drew me down to the studio. Something almost magical to see, while walking through the rain, with all the deep green vegetation all around. That was photo-worthy, with a good photographer. In any case, most everybody gets stuck on the name.

Glory, glory. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 Above photo in no way conveys the deep orange glow emanating from within. Which is *FANTASTIC.*

Some blowing.

Who uses them for their original purpose anymore?

These are the sorry battered remains of phonebooks, would you ever have known? She rolls the glass on them to cool slightly. They hiss and singe. Maybe I am inventing the hiss.

Magic crystals! glass granules to melt on the outside of the orb.

She will roll the molten glass over these tasty bits.

 

Here comes trouble!

Creating spiral patterns with old trusty needle nose pliers.

How's that for a way to spend an afternoon? Or a decade? Or a life? I can't help but feeling sometimes that people who make things with their hands, people who create things on a daily basis are some of the best people around. It was quite a treat -- maybe more glass afternoons in the future...

This was one of two ornaments hanging near her...auxiliary furnace. First a close up:

There's so much going on with this free-form bead! I love the swoopy black and mauve on the bottom half. And somehow at the top, my vary favorite part is that smaller orb of clear glass with the bubble inside (upper left). You can see other colors through it and yet it's almost like a resting place. A pause within the larger color play.

And then we have the whole ornament...

the ceramic bovine sees all.

Handy tip: If you're local, you're lucky. She's having an open house I *believe* on Sunday, November 20th. If it is a truly public affair, I'll update this with details...
  

Shhh, the Halibut is Resting (see also: Liberty Local)

Why, Hello Again. I've got some time, you've got some time...I have dishes to do and clothes to fold and crafty detritus littering my entire Ranchy house.  Clearly it's time for more bloggage.

I am happy to report that from where I stand, Day One of Ann Arbor Art Center's Liberty Local was a solid success. Traffic waned, but started off gangbusters; and when sales were slow, appreciation was nevertheless evident and...appreciated (dur). Organizers Sam and Amy were enthusiastic cheerleaders throughout, volunteers popped over to see if we needed to go on snack runs, and lovely local friends came through, perused my wares, allowed me to wake their sleeping babies, bought cards and were their supportive sunny selves.

MAN, I think I had lost sight of how very nice it is to sell somewhere close to my house. Love Rust Belt and such venues, but after driving almost an hour, part of me is already tired before I even unload and set up--  or talk to would-be fans, friends, the bizarre and the indifferent. I wasn't exhausted when I got home! I arrived home dinnerish time! Halibut is currently marinating, waiting to transform into a hopefully luscious curry, with yogurt, ground cashews, paprika (odd, Neelam Batra, did you really mean it?), wonderful green cardamom...In the meantime, we have a nice Founders Breakfast Stout. Oh! Also, when I got home, I was faced with this:

Several neighborhood kids in my yard. I slowed my driveway entry. Many halted upon seeing me, including a boy who had been trundling a wheelbarrow rapidly up my sidewalk. I love my neighborhood. I am, however, odd (wo)man out: single/no pets/no god-- so, I lack strong ties with the neighborhood youngins.

"Can we rake your leaves?" Hmm. My yard seemed to be mostly raked. Was this a minor shakedown? Or was I seen as a pity-case/eye sore?  B/c while I am lazy with these matters, my background also makes me loathe to pay someone else for what I would miserably do myself.

"...ummmm~"

Another kid: "It's free!"

Me:"Oh!" Now I was totally confused.

"We're making a huge leaf pile!! In our yard!!"

Me: "Oh! Sure!~~"

Them, emphatically, victoriously: "YESSSSSSSSS!!!!"

Well, alright then. Can't imagine that will happen too often, but pretty awesome.

Weren't you talking about the art thing? WTH. We now you blather, but, g-d.  Well, true. So. To my left was Laura Eckert of Albino Dino. She was doing cute things like snipping fringe into the scarves of long-necked plush dinosaurs. They also sometimes have mustaches and glasses. She also has zombie photos and an elephant, but really, she's on team dino. On my right, Deb of Deid Goods-- she has gorgeous pillows, ipod cases and bags made from felted sweaters. Lovely bright colors, lots of texture and appealing dahlia shapes. One table down was Heather of Bettula -- neat lacquered jewelry from birch bark and small boxes of dried mosses. I love how with table neighbors, it's possible to chat, delve into deeper conversation; and then retreat into more solitary bubbles.

There are so many people I am also tempted to mention, but then this would expand and expand. And while we want the halibut to be sufficiently spiced, we do not wish to eat at 10 PM. Mid-morning I got a text from Ginger that the (NOW LOCAL, kerrazzzy!) Onion had a.)written up Liberty Local   and b.) given me a shout-out, describing me as an "absurdist woodblock printmaker" (LOVE LOVE LOVE). Also given props: Chicago-based Owly Shadow Puppets -- I love the Yeti and dragon especially. But also love the anti-valentine at the Etsy shop "Your crazy emotional needs give my life purpose," which I did not see at her table. Her laser-cut shadow puppets are SUH-WEET.

Aside from my little cards, which usually do pretty well, my "Geese Suspect You Are Withholding" print was the star of the day (at my table, natch). The favorite purchase background I got (which I ALWAYS love) was this: "I MUST have that because I am heartily terrified of geese. I had a very bad experience as a child. And now every morning I go for a walk and there's a gaggle of them. I am convinced one day they are going to launch an attack. But I am ready! I've got my ninja moves ready... This will have pride of place in my home."This was also delivered in a British accent, which we can all agree makes most anything better.

Several people, upon buying this print, confirm a deep fear of geese. I had no idea I was tapping into this well of anxiety (though obviously, I do feel they can be demanding. Swans scare me more. A swan once stole my beach towel when I was studying by a "lake" on the campus of the University of Massachusetts. Aggressive swan! Mean swan!)

I imagine the halibut is sufficiently spiced to take to the next level. I have cashews to grind. Rufus is wondering:

"Why am I always on a plane or a fast train
Oh what a world my parents gave me
Always
Travelin' but not in love

Still I think I'm doin' fine
Wouldn't it be a lovely headline
Life is
Beautiful on a New York Times"

Liberty Local has one more day, tomorrow, noon-5 PM. Maybe I'll see you there, or just online...

Liberty Local!

I suppose this is an eleventh hour post, but I have been meaning to put up a couple more pics about the Ann Arbor Art Center's Liberty Local fair....course, I have been spending more time doing prep for it (except for Thursday, when I ran off to the DIA, to catch a changing exhibit, more on that later). If you're in the area, today's the day! And a fine day it should be: it's supposed to reach the 80s. Yayyyyy, last return of the Summer Dress.

The AAC folk have been doing a wonderful job of promoting the event. I have seen thimble posters all over town, plus take-away cards and artists features on Facebook.














For my own part, I decided to break out those smaller wooden panels for a little bit of block print-collagey action:

Have a glorious Saturday, All!