For this series of research on international artists, I chose a theme of narrative tiles and/or murals.  This has proved trickier than I expected, especially as I keep finding excellent and fascinating artists who work in ways that don’t necessarily fall under the heading of tiles/murals.  However, given that much of this work is still wall-oriented, I’ve allowed for some flexibility in the definition.  An underlying element of this research also is specifically tied to the use of text, which has borne some great fruit.

The first person I’ve chosen to profile is Ruan Hoffmann,  a ceramic artist from South Africa, who works mainly with semi-autobiographical imagery and text on plate-like objects.  He does some sculpture work as well, which I have seen in searches of his work online, though his website only displays one photo.  I love the simple look of the plates and tiles, balanced against the tight shine of his glazing and the crispness of his font choices.  I am also intrigued by the separation of text and image, which makes me think of the space between the thought process and living life.  Like the act of living juxtaposed against the verbalization of the story of life.

I do wish his website was working properly, the plethora of images available online would be great to see in context and with a little more information.

From a review posted on his website, Hoffmann has been working in clay for over 20 years, and recently broke into the American market with a show in New York.  He draws his inspiration from personal stories and observations, as well as his own political views.  This ties into what I am attempting to get at with my first series of pieces in this program, and the precision of his drawing and arrangement of text and decoration is inspiring and puts a name to some of what I’d like to experiment with over time.

http://www.ruanhoffmann.com/new-work/

These are 4 of the first 7 graphic novel inspired story board pieces.  As this series has unfolded, some pieces more successfully than others, this looks like it will become a sort of flow chart of life.  These will likely be headings, and then step over and down and follow the patterns of events and behavior that have shaped my life thus far.  The additional layers of this flow chart will explore additional ceramic techniques (high fire glazes, low fire glazes, different clays, construction techniques), delineating them from each other and allowing for deeper digging without making one giant series- letting the story lines stay a little more succinct and intimate.  Hopefully this will also allow each series to be shown individually as well as a whole conglomeration in my Faculty Show in the Fall.

So, you may have noticed that I haven’t posted in an extremely long time. A lot has happened. I started a series of organic figures, one of which semi-survived a car crash with me, and probably still has bits of my skin buried in its cracks somewhere.

This series of figures was supposed to continue the abstract storytelling I’ve been doing for years, graphing emotions with shapes and textures… It became a catalyst, because of crashing my car and nearly losing my favorite sculpture of all time (not to mention much more than that), to the idea that I need to get some things DONE. No more sticking to ideas I feel safe with and no more relying on a visual language I’ve learned inside out.  I am happy with, and at times, very proud of the work I’ve done to this point, but I know there is more.  At the risk of sounding pompous, I think my stories are pretty damn funny, also some heart-wrenching, but on the whole, would paint a pretty interesting portrait of a lot of what happens inside everyone as life occurs.  I want to make work that has ALL OF ME in it. That I am proud of and KNOW that I put everything I have in to.  In this, I hope the work I make will create a connection between all of us, a kind of psychological and emotional fist-bump between anyone who has ever been proud and chagrined and awkward and spectacular and shamed and perfect.

And then I balked. I couldn’t quite make the leap myself. I did drawings, revived research from a year before on graphic novels, woodcuts, carving, and had myself all staged to go… And choked. The stories I want to tell seem too vulnerable and too intrinsic to who I am to get them out by myself, and while I loved the series of figures that was developing, it wasn’t quite specific enough.  Which was so frustrating, SO FRUSTRATING, since I think of myself as unflinchingly willing to be vulnerable, and a good self-starter.  It turned out I needed a kick to hold me accountable to reaching for that best thing…

So, after a few weeks of crushing frustration during the summer, I thought, hm, maybe I should do grad school. I had always vaguely intended to go back to school, but this time the idea got in deep and would. not. let. go. I’ve gotten those irrevocable feelings before, and there’s no resisting. Whether it’s God or the Universe, or just that I can be stubborn when I know deep down, I don’t know, but here we are. So I applied and was accepted in a whirlwind of momentum and what felt kind of like destiny, and a fair bit of “oh, holy shit, what am I doing”, but there’s no stopping now, and if I did I would regret it forever. So, in January I started work on my MFA at Fort Hays State University.

As part of this program, I’ll be posting research, drawings, thoughts, photos, progress reports, and sundry other stuff.  I’m probably going to freak myself out pretty bad, putting all this out there… But that’s precisely what I’m after, digging and feedback. Abject terror and absolute confidence? That might sum it up pretty well.

This first semester, my goal is to take these pieces of research and ideas I’ve been carrying and use class projects to gain the “voice” and vocabulary I need to finish the program (in a few years) with work that I can say “yes” to, that I know for a fact contains everything I want to put into it.  And then go from there. It parallels years of (hard) work to gain my own voice for myself, and now it’s time to get it out there in my work.

I’m starting fairly basic, you’ll see shortly (I have a new, unbroken, camera coming!!), but I hope the underlying roar in me will show through as the story develops.

I appreciate all of you who have read my blog to this point, and I will continue to value that. Please comment if you feel like it, I would love to hear your thoughts as I go.

This, from a friend’s fridge magnets:  Speak your truth at all times, even if your voice shakes.

So, here I am after months, having not posted in ages. This is because I found a much healthier and sensible way to fire the kilns, specifically, not overnight. But this means I am not awake in the wee hours so much, and that strange sense of invincibility and safety in vulnerability doesn’t exist in the same way for me during the day, so I haven’t posted. And that’s too bad, ’cause lots has happened! There have been two shows up in Wichita (I just now finished taking them down, sorry) and partially completed two large commissions, which are very exciting. Actually, there is still quite a lot of stuff at Artworks in Picadilly Square in Wichita, if you want to go look. I understand that it will be back on display for Final Friday this month. So go do that, please, and buy lots!! If I can get my pictures to upload I’ll be posting pictures ASAP. So, I’m going to try to keep up with this and overcome that lack of insulation that darkness provides, and post more during the day.

… are amazing.  I can’t wait to make the Uncertainty Principle piece, including the Mind’s Eye with Astigmatism.  Here’s what I think it looks like. I’ll post pictures as soon as it’s done.

I picture the points of measurement- the measurement of place, and the measurement of velocity- as single shapes but with different sides, kind of…  Like the points will come to points, within a sea of chunky clay and dark colors, but out from under them will come these stretched waves, pulling up from underneath, encasing the sea.  I hope they come out looking fast and embodying urgency and maybe just a little overwrought.  I want it to indicate immense speed and force.  But not without control/grace.

Shapes are completely bewitching.  And there is some kind of obsession that happens chasing them.  I know when I’m close to the ‘right’ shape, but usually have to stop and come back, because you can keep pushing it and pushing it, and get somewhere.  But if you come back fresh, chances are you’ll see the exact point that needed to be pulled under or curved up to make it live.

This thing with control reminds me of something I spent a lot of time thinking about a few years ago, and I think finally became part of life after a while.  Which is:  Without strength you cannot have control/grace, and without control/grace you cannot have skill, therefor, strength and skill do not equate.  I don’t know if it’s true or not, but I know the best pieces I have made have included shapes based from that strength, both inner and physical… To make what I consider a decent curve or shape takes strength to hold the precision, and grace to perceive the fine points, to pull out the tiniest details that make a piece sing, and skill to bring it to completion.  It takes more than brutish effort to make a piece that has its own being.  And that’s what I’m after, hopefully without being brutish.

Actually, upon further thought, my little ‘line’ I thought about was, “Without strength you can’t have control, and without control you can’t have grace, but just having strength doesn’t equate to grace, and just having grace, doesn’t equate to control.”  So there’s that, but right now I have to go check the kiln, so the parallels are yours to draw.

The more precisely the position is determined, the less precisely the momentum is known in this instant, and vice versa.
–Heisenberg, uncertainty paper, 1927

This is a succinct statement of the “uncertainty relation” between the position and the momentum (mass times velocity) of a subatomic particle, such as an electron. This relation has profound implications for such fundamental notions as causality and the determination of the future behavior of an atomic particle.
(http://www.aip.org/history/heisenberg/p08.htm)

I really, really, want to see what happens if I try to make a Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle piece. Also, it has been suggested that I should make a piece about someone’s Minds’ Eye with Astigmatism, because they can’t imagine what an Uncertainty Principle tile might look like. This makes me laugh, and I think it must be done.

Also, its almost finals week, so this might happen sooner rather than later. But we shall see.

This seems similar, from what I remember of this day:

So, it came to my attention on April 19 that someone had copied content from my website and posted it on their own site without asking and without attributing. Their site appears to be a site comprised mainly of other people’s content. Aside from the appalling lack of creativity on their part, it appears to be a site publicizing some wackadoo financing book… Um, independent artist = financing? So, whatever. The point is, that as I was trying to figure out what to do with this, I contacted WordPress, who I incorrectly thought was the host of this fake site. They aren’t and were very clear about their position on that, but they sent me links about Web Plagiarization and how to make a report to the actual host of the infringing website. So I have. I feel pretty bold right now. Props to WordPress for being amazing and supportive, even about things that aren’t their problem at all. Thank you, guys!

This may or may not be interesting. But, as this semester has rolled on, I’ve been doing many more overnight firings, and many fewer all-day-on-Sunday firings. It seemed like a terrible plan at first, but has proved quite useful. I can often spend at least Sunday afternoon working at home or catching up on other work, rather than spening all day tending the kiln.

And the over-night time is interesting. It’s very dark, as you might have noticed. But it’s also full of creatures running round, and various student antics that are both entertaining and heartwrenching. And I’ve managed to scare a few pretty badly, popping out from the kiln shed. Sorry, guys.

So, as it’s Monday, and I’m staring down the barrel of two weekends in a row with Saturday all-nighters involved… Huh. I have no idea what I’m doing. Stocking up on sleep? But it’ll probably be pretty fun. Last time I made a bunch of cups and bowls. This time I should really mix like 2000lbs of clay and get to work on some tiles. Good times. (That would also hark back to the olden days when I spent lots of time mixing lots of clay. My back can attest to this. That post-clay-mixing feeling is the perfect combo of invincible power and utterly broken.) Roar.

‎”Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?” -Mary Oliver