Category Archives: inspiration
What’s in a name?
Mile Marker XXX
There are as many stories as there are Mile Markers.
Titles are meant to act as a nudge, a hint, the first line of a story. Especially titles that seemingly are about a distinct place. They hint at specificity, maybe calling to mind an exact location, or perhaps simply triggering the memory of counting the miles on the long family vacations. The significance of the name isn’t found in the numbers. Your stories are the Mile Markers — they are not duplicated but they are everywhere.
Mile Marker 268, 16x22
This powerful story is from fellow artist, Sharon Spillar after reading the post “Booth Lessons”:
“So mile marker 268. This can only be Kansas. I know that place. Checking with my Mom to double check the mile marker number. With my husband I still am inconclusive. I traveled that road many, many times. Many people travel it and make complaints. I find that I am at home. I find peace. I find day dreams that I have missed. I grew up in Kansas and I truly cannot find any complaints.
What mile marker 268 for me is about the time I regain my peace. My Dad was an oil man and worked that part of Kansas. He was killed in a traffic accident at mile marker 263.5 ( I thought ) or 262.5 ( Verne thinks) but what ever it is. I know the spot because of the positioning of the bridge. But what I can say is that by this mile marker I have recollected myself, I have been brought back together by that vast depth of space, and I am home again.
Chris we have only met once but I am telling you this. You captured that area.
Thank you, Sharon Spillar”
What is your story?
Booth Lessons
This weekend had its challenges: a 5:00 a.m. set-up following the hour lost to “springing-forward” plus another hour lost due to travel eastward, location challenges including a restaurant encroaching into our space, and temperatures and humidity that seriously challenged the wardrobe in the luggage I packed almost a month prior. Combine these temporal challenges with some unwittingly insulting comments, and sometimes I question why I have chosen to share my artwork in this way. Easily forgotten are the importance of accessibility and the democratization that the art fairs provide, the richness of watching people interact with my work, and all the lessons I can learn when I am paying attention.
- Mile Marker 268, 16x22
Annie Griffiths
First artist statement — written in phonetic Texan
When I grow up!
As a 7 year old drawling Texan (who was learning phonetically) I knew I was going to be a photographer when I grew up. In fact, I was going to go on “fantasstick trips so I could tack pitchers of fames tings”. And to an animal loving second grader that laid on the rec room floor looking at the exotic pictures in the famously yellow magazine, I knew this could mean only one thing — I would be Jane Goodall with a camera. I would work for National Geographic!
And despite my path changing a bit over the last thirty years (although surprising little for someone that couldn’t even write in cursive yet!), I had the incredible experience of hearing an amazing woman that my seven year-old self thought that I was going to become.
Annie Griffiths Belt
Annie Griffiths
Annie (sure, first names, why not?) was one of the first female photographers to work for National Geographic, and Griffiths has photographed in more than a hundred countries during her illustrious career. She has worked on dozens of magazine and book projects for the National Geographic Society, including stories on Lawrence of Arabia, Baja California, Galilee, Petra, Sydney, New Zealand, and Jerusalem. Her photographs are gorgeous, she is warm and dynamic, she is humble, she is a mother that has managed to balance a family and a wonderful career. She is even close friends with one of my favorite authors — Barbara Kingsolver.
And — She spoke to a SOLD OUT crowd at KC’s new Kauffman Center for the Performing Arts!!!!
I have been to see a lot of photographers speak, the Nelson-Atkins Museum hosts many, and I have been to many more at galleries, and have given a few presentations myself. I even sat for an hour trying desperately to understand three photographers as they talked about pinhole photographs - in Spanish. But this one was different!
I don’t think I can actually express what this meant to me. The little girl in me that grew up without knowing a single example of a woman photographer was awe struck to have this woman behind the lens celebrated in this grand hall. The adult in me got teary when a girl of about ten climbed across our legs to make her way to the microphone in the aisle to ask the first question of the Q&A.
She is truly an inspiration!
Be sure to check out her amazing images and her books!
And on behalf of the little girl that dreamed of being a phtographer — thank you Annie! Thank you Kauffman Center for the Performing Arts! Thank you National Geographic!
Grandpa’s Hayrake by Jeff Boyer
Grandpa’s Hayrake
We cousins would climb onto a copious seat
worn slick by rain and sun,
the trousers of men both thick and spare.
We made a kind of game: Each setting of the giant tines
could chart your life. High for smooth,
hardship low, and tragic on the ground.
An overbuilt machine, no amount of hay
could need that bulk. The elms
would whisper secrets in the yard.
Lilacs by the road pushed against the drive
and hid approaching cars from view.
The tires hissed on tar as they sped by.
Only three or four, I knew enough to open wide the door
before ascending to the beds above
to let the breezy nighttime secrets through.
In the side lot under moon and stars
the rake would arc the metal tines like years
and shape the wind in rows.
Jeff Boyer (collector)
;
Thanks Jeff for sharing your poem with us!
;
I have a confession
I have a confession
Besides being late with another blog post, and having my languages so jumbled I can barely speak or write in english or spanish, I am also having a hard time photographing in this city. I had the same difficulty last year and perhaps that is what has drawn me back.
Yesterday Kyle was feeling a bit under the weather, so I took a short walk to get him some pozole verde (the sure cure for whatever ails you). The best source of this miracle is a restaurant, Tapatio, approximately 400 yards from our apartment. I can’t adequately describe to you how much life there is between here and there. Imagine within the length of four football fields is the symphony hall, 3 basilicas, 1 major state university, 1 garden, 1 plaza, a dozen street vendors, 100’s of homes, dozens of restaurants, and smells of both open sewage and fresh tortillas. Now line all of these items up and paint them each a unique bright color and insert 100’s of people making sounds that you are trying desperately to understand. This is just a simple errand to pick up a cup of soup.
Look at all those textures!
This city is in every way the antithesis of my artwork. The close proximity of everything and everyone, the brilliant colors stacked one upon the other, the cacophony of sound and smell has my brain on overdrive. And while the research on sensory processing by my good friend Dr Winnie Dunn has allowed me to understand intellectually why my brain is short circuiting I still find it disconcerting that I can’t “see” this city.
So yesterday as I was leaving for my walk, I gave myself an exercise to focus my eyes. What I am unable to do in this bombardment of stimuli is to focus, so by giving myself strict boundaries, I could begin to see. Using only my Iphone camera (so I would not get caught in technicalities) I would photograph anything yellow that I encountered. Things became more clear (and Kyle got rather hungry)!
A few selections from my yellow walk:
What tricks have you learned to help you “see”?
All I need to know
Reflecting on the best of 2011 has been a great way to begin the new year.
Of course there are many more things that could be included in my lists of bests; celebrating the union of our friends Gregory and Clark, after 20 years of togetherness my sister-in-law and her boyfriend throwing caution to the wind to get married in the San Juan Islands, and many pieces of great art made, viewed, and experienced. But with my mind running a million miles a minute, I know the most productive thing for me to do is set some limits for myself. I find that a narrowed focus helps me distill my thoughts, and get to the heart of the matter. (i.e. four words about my work)
There is always room for growth
So after a week of many, many words describing the best events or experiences of 2011, I have realized that there is a commonality, a core idea that I will stay mindful of and that will guide me into 2012:
Growth and experiential learning, and spending time with people that are striving for the same.
Can you distill your best experiences of the year into one sentence or phrase?
Filling the cup in Chicago
After our normally hectic summer travel season, this time of year presents a very different rhythm. When we are not working with patrons that are looking for the perfect gift, Kyle and I both spend most of these shorter days woodshedding and looking for ways to refill the creative cup.
We had a particularly joyous and inspiration filled weekend in Chicago last weekend. But with a collector due at the studio any minute now, I will simply share the highlights with you:
- Our beautiful and talented friends Gregory Story and Clark Miller.
Gregory Story and Clark Miller
- The Chicago Cultural Center hosting the ceremony and the home of the largest Tiffany dome in the world.
Largest Tiffany dome in the world.
- Write Now: Artists and Letterforms - a major exhibition at the Chicago Cultural Center that showcases a diverse range of recent works by more than 60 artists utilizing letters and text in a wide array of mediums.
Toll receipt installation
- Sonic Arboretum: A collection of horned speakers, made from compressed recycled newsprint and dryer lint, created by sculptor and instrument-maker Ian Schneller and composer/violinist Andrew Bird, are installed in the Museum of Contemporary Art Chicago’s atrium to create a unique sound garden.
Sonic Arboretum
Isn’t it wonderful to come home from a trip with your cup full — full of love and friendship, full of inspiration, full of motivation to spend long days and long nights in the studio.
Now I am back to work! to read or make a comment
My studio soundtrack — Richard Shindell
The most seminal moment in my career as an artist was at a music concert. Continue reading