Mountain Spell at Lone Tree Performing Arts Center Dedicated 10-28-19
I am sitting here in Oregon watching the gold and red leaves gently falling from the maple trees in the back yard. Under the trees and under blue tarps sit my tools for the physical creation of the spiritual creation that is sculpture.
While the physical creation has slowed, waiting on some architectural remedies, the spiritual creation never stopped. Soon they will blend, but I am sure the blend will be novel. I expect things will be the same, just in a different location. That keeps me sane. But I know I have changed right down to my molecules.
Through miraculous happenstance, I have met my most admired figurative realism sculptor, a production designer dripping with accolades from broadway plays to Disneyworld, Crimson Rose the once-naked fire lady of Burning man, and a dozen other creatives who, without giving me direction changed me--forever. My daughter has a t-shirt reading "Don't look back. It's not where you're going."
The chaos that once was my studio will soon give birth to new sculpture, a reborn studio and new opportunities for beauty. I didn't give serious thought to sculpture lighting possibilities, to mediums expressing their true emotional and implicit messages, or to the effects of elemental spirals on joyful creations. Can I go back? Nah. When the world is swirling around me, I tell myself nothing has changed. Makes me comfortable. But nah.
While the physical creation has slowed, waiting on some architectural remedies, the spiritual creation never stopped. Soon they will blend, but I am sure the blend will be novel. I expect things will be the same, just in a different location. That keeps me sane. But I know I have changed right down to my molecules.
Through miraculous happenstance, I have met my most admired figurative realism sculptor, a production designer dripping with accolades from broadway plays to Disneyworld, Crimson Rose the once-naked fire lady of Burning man, and a dozen other creatives who, without giving me direction changed me--forever. My daughter has a t-shirt reading "Don't look back. It's not where you're going."
The chaos that once was my studio will soon give birth to new sculpture, a reborn studio and new opportunities for beauty. I didn't give serious thought to sculpture lighting possibilities, to mediums expressing their true emotional and implicit messages, or to the effects of elemental spirals on joyful creations. Can I go back? Nah. When the world is swirling around me, I tell myself nothing has changed. Makes me comfortable. But nah.
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