My art is like a song, first in the distance, I hear it softly.
The tune catches a place in my heart and I feel it closer.
It goes from a few disconnected notes and keeps swelling.
I hear the song completely.
I see it in my mind.
I hear it in my heart.
It moves me in a dance, the flames of the torch, the softness of the fabric.
I see it, piece by piece, come together in my hands.
I recognize it as the notes I first heard in the distance.
A mixture of mediums is how my art is made.
It could be fibers, gently teased apart to become felt or ceramics fired in my kiln.
It could be precise sewing, either by hand or machine, each stitch evenly spaced.
Often it’s metal, cut and welded, manipulated and shaped by heat.
Sometimes it’s done in quiet meditation in comfort and seclusion.
Sometimes it’s in my welding shop, where it’s hot and gritty and I have to pay close attention because it is dangerous.
No matter which one of the mediums I am using I hear the music and I dance.
From my Blog
All morning we cruised the Rhine River. Since leaving Budapest the upper deck (the sun deck) has been closed due to the low lock clearance and the low bridges but now the Rhine runs wider and has much more clearance. The captain has a smile on his face. I am sure the responsibility of bringing this ship ($$$$) and all his passengers safely through the waters that [...]
This town is the most intact that we have visited. Unlike the previous towns that were substantially bombed in WWII and since have rebuilt this town has the buildings that have lined these streets since the 1400's and 1500's. There is a pub in the street level of a hotel, which has operated as a pub since it was built in 1411. It has large doors that [...]