the first typeset box began unconsciously (see previous post, 'so many stories') - one day in the studio i simply began to place my favorite bits and pieces together in each window. i went back to it sporadically, attempting to balance the colors, the shapes and textures. the 'windows' began to turn into little stories for me. at some point i became very frustrated and gave the whole thing up...i couldn't 'see' it anymore, and my eye became confused and unfocused.

life was kind enough to offer me a friend who happened to have seen my progress and also happened to love it. she told me how much she loved it in the company of other friends, at a meeting...i could hear her passion and how moved she was AND how she thought i was brilliant at what i did. i sat there listening to her, this amazing metalsmith, and with tears in my eyes, i attempted to bottle and retain what she said. and believe it. believing's always the kicker for me...

all of this creation business is experimentation for me - my art teacher in high school was unimpressed. i had one semester of art school (after completing an undergraduate degree in psychology - where you can really make big money, let me tell you) and teachers who meant well. my parents were always of the mindset that i couldn't make money as an artist, so i absolutely shouldn't pursue art. they refused to help me with college if i went that route. this is not to say 'poor me'. this is to say that prior to my 35th year of life, i had not experienced people believing in me, in this way. and now i am. and it's the most amazing, fulfilling experience ever. it is equal to the importance of mothering my two children, at least.

so enough of all that for now. here's a look at the next typeset box - it's about half the size of the previous piece, and houses loads of stories as well...

itchy bear

when i was young, my dad often referred to me as itchy bear...whenever it was time to hold the bat steady and concentrate on the ball, or become still and focus on learning a new outdoor game...i got itchy. this past week i have sealed my fate as 'itchy bear'...systemic poison ivy is, well, something i might wish on sarah palin. my great hope is that this most recent prescription of steroids was not a rash decision (humor me, i'm itchy) and will clear the itch in 24 hours...until then, i am and remain yours truly...itchy bear. if you see me out tomorrow, don't gawk at my rash (don't worry, i won't touch you), instead distract me with talk of loose men and foundry molds. thank you in advance.

if i'm lucky enough to get to the studio tomorrow, i'm at the most recent piece full force - i can't wait to get my hands back on it. here are a few stories that are unfolding within the piece pictured... a bird emerging from her viscous nest, the mittened hand of a child desperately reaching for greetings and farewells, and a couple of worn corridors to my soul...

new morning

<-- this is the morning i will choose to wake up to today - i have more in the works at the studio and vow to remember my camera on the way out the door this morning. i will do my best to become one with my computer in order to bring you the most recent updates within my studio, on my children's amazing observations of our world and my erratic thought processes. so here it is, you girls who told me you'd follow if i built it, here's your chance...