This evening I was checking a book out at the North Idaho College Library. I noticed a beautiful beaded breast plate just behind the counter. I asked the librarian about it and she said that she made it. I asked her if it was intended for a powwow dancer's regalia. She said yes. We talked a bit about beads and powwows. I asked her if she was Native American and she said no but her son was.  She added that he was also a powwow dancer.

I told her that for fun I had been taking pictures at Julyamsh the last couple years and that a friend had told me my pictures were good enough to sell but that I didn't feel right selling them without model releases. She told me she could probably help me identify some of the people in the pictures. "Wow, this is great," I thought. "How lucky to run into her." I had been wondering how I'd find the people I'd photographed. The Julyamsh Powwow is one the biggest with 500+- dancers.

Then she said she wanted to show me a picture of her son on her computer. She had a Facebook page upen with.........a very familiar picture...er...uh...one of my pictures. She pointed out her son, immediately I blurted out, "That's my picture!"

She said she'd gotten it off the internet. I am very aware that anyone can snatch anything on the net. When I post photos or blogs I do so with the expectation that I am putting content out there without control over what happens to it, but I had never had this fact gob-smack me so.

It turns out that the girl in the picture, the one with her back to the camera, just died. Everyone is grieving. This picture seems to bringing them a bit of comfort. I never anticipated such an effect from one of my pictures.

My original post here on Gaia.com is here: http://zzzoom.gaia.com/blog/2007/7/julyamsh_powwow

I have cross-posted this on my new blog Breathe here: http://blog.omsah.com/?p=77

My intention for writing a series of blogs about artists is to let everyone know about them. They are very special people...


I love it when I find evidence of karma and vipaka. Karma being action and vipaka being the result of action. In the following I'll relate two stories of how this has happened for me.

Last spring I was at the North Idaho College student art show. This brought me back in time to a student art show 40 years ago at UC Santa Barbara. I had had a piece in that show. A friend of mine named Kim bought my piece and told me about how it was the only one to sell; however, he didn't tell me he was the buyer. I remember being very happy and excited but probably did't say much to Kim about how I felt. Recalling this was like water for a seed planted way back then. I decided that it would be nice to finally get around to thanking him.

Well, I found Kim and what is so cool about this story is that Kim is an artist. I seem to have found an old new friend who is also a kindred spirit. He was always operating on the creative edge and still is. In college he published a collection of poems on a roll of paper towels.

Now, among other things, Kim makes braille jewelry, candlestick holders from recycled plumbing fixtures and rubbings of manhole covers. He will not be pigeon holed into doing just one creative thing. (Much like me.)











His mind seems to go out there, grab the unusual or the ordinary, for that matter, and figure a way to make art out of it.

Who knows when a kind act will bear fruit or what form that fruit will take.

http://kimchristiansen.com/



And also:

A while back someone with the user name TheBuddhaBuilder left a nice comment about one of my photos posted on Flickr. A simple act, but this simple act set off a chain of events. I became interested in who the person was that made the comment. I followed the links to her blog and found out that her name is Anita and she makes wonderful raku clay statuary, mostly Buddhas. I couldn't resist buying one. Anita is a zen practitioner and she also writes poetry. It's great to know about her. This happened because of her of act of kindness.






Buddhas @ www.TheBuddhaBuilder.etsy.com
Books @http://www.anitafeng.com/
Blog @ http://rakubuddha.blogspot.com/


Anita said in an email, "It is something akin to magic in the way connections are made these days."

Yes, indeed.

This blog and the pictures are for everyone who told me they were interested in the results of my first barrel firing. To make the kiln and do the firing I used the instructions from the book, Alternative Kilns & Firing Techniques, by Watkins & Wandless.






Pictured are the pots ready for firing. I coated them with terra sigilatta or sealed earth, which is a mixture of ball clay, EPK clay, sodium silicate and water. To make the "terra sig" the ingredients are mixed and left to settle. The top layer is then siphoned off, the second siphoned and used. The bottom layer is discarded because it has larger particles.








This my downdraft barrel kiln made from a 55 gallon drum. A downdraft firing is supposed to be hotter than a regular barrel firing because of a downward airflow. The pipe going across the bottom is slotted. I found this double walled pipe at the Habitat store.










I loaded the barrel with a variety of combustibles: kindling, construction scraps, cutup boxes, lavender stalks, a couple banana peels, pine needles, newspaper, Miracle Grow and sawdust. Amongst this melange of flammables I placed my pots. I used foil saggars, or compartments for my pots and sprinkled in a tasty mix of the colorants: copper carbonate, copper sulfate, and red iron oxide. It seemed that I was whipping up a yummy lasagna. I also put chicken wire between layers so if a pot fell during firing it wouldn't hit one below it. (Marlene's tip.)







I went through my checklist: water hose, matches, lighter fluid. (Things I should have had on the list, a comfortable chair and a cold drink.) I finally lit him off asking forgiveness from Mother Earth for doing all this burning. The barrel burned for most of the day and put out a lot of smoke. This is probably not something to attempt in
town.






Things didn't work out exactly as pictured in the book. The downdraft never happened. I tried priming the pipe as instructed by putting burning charcoal directly into the pipe. Since my husband Charles securely fastened the pipes together with screws, this entailed climbing a ladder.

Maybe the air got confused because my pipe was double-walled rather than single walled? Maybe the slots I made were not big enough? Perhaps it was the way I loaded the barrel? I have an idea of what I'll do next time. Perhaps the air needs a clear shot down the barrel. Think I'll use some cardboard tubes placed vertically.






I unloaded the next morning and despite my dysfunctional barrel kiln, this is the result. These pots look kind of like instant artifacts. In a few places the "terra sig" was put on too thick and flaked off but nothing cracked or broke; and the big surprise is that a couple pieces were greenware. I put them in just to see what would happen. The fact that they survived certainly gives me more creative possibilities for making decorative pieces.






Next time you bring the marshmallows.

Saturday I did my first "upclose and personal" Art Festival/Craft Fair. I had giclee prints and what I call, "Artisan rope," for sale. After counting my money I found that I came home with $14 gross proceeds. The only items I sold were $1/piece friendship bracelets to the 10 year olds.

I noticed that folks were not even coming by my work to take a look. I mentally went through all that self-doubt and self-flagellation. Am I sending out the wrong vibe? What could be the reason for seemingly being invisible? My thoughts became desperate. Hell, next time I'm hiring the company that attracted Beetlejuice to bordello with flashing neon arrows pointing my way, the seductive smell of fresh baked cookies to lure folks, you name it.

I started imagining the paintings as flowers and the people as hummingbirds. The paintings were all yelling, jumping up and down clamoring for attention. My four measly quieter giclee prints were in the corner meekly and shyly saying in whimpy little voices, "Hello. We're here. We're smaller than all the rest; our colors are more subtle but you might find one of us pleasant to have hanging around your house."

They (the people) seemed to be on a track. They would look at the display of art cards placed very near the walkway and then they'd beeline right past me to the very large painting of a bright red apple on the other side. (And if Amy or Linda read this, I am not at all being negative toward you for your stuff being so distracting. I truly believe that the success of my fellow artists is my success as well.)

After a while, curiousity dominated my thoughts and I began watching the hummingbird people without attachment to an outcome. I was amused that I would equate fellow humans with little winged creatures of sub-human intelligence.

I wasn't able to move the partition holding my giclee prints but by moving my chair closer to the walkway, spinning wool to get attention and smiling at the oncoming hummingbirds, I was able to direct a bit more attention toward my shy flowers.

I feel a bit conflicted by advocating consumption but even artists need to eat. And you might be thinking, "Gee, this gal is suffering from some real confusion about money." You'd be right. I am at this very moment reading Brent Kessel's book, It's Not About the Money, to help get myself straightened out.

Other things I learned, that is, if you want to sell stuff:

-This is a great way to get instant feedback. I know exactly now, which of these four images is the most popular with folks here in north Idaho and which is not.

-Instant gratificaton rules. Hard to sell a winter item in the summer.

-Learn from the supermarket check-out lines. Place impulse items within reach.

-I started sensing that even though a picture is worth a thousand words, people still like to hear the story of the artwork and making that story a good one can be important.

-The feng shui of the venue can be deadly.

I only made $14 but came away with insight worth much more.


Tell me which is your favorite?

Last weekend our artist group participated in a local art festival. I parked my car in the parking lot to unload my artwork; and there it was, a ubiquitous Subaru stationwagon with two Hulley Roller kayak carriers and an "S" sticker on the bumper. It struck me like a lightning bolt and I went back to a memory from 2005 when I was still very new to north Idaho and didn't have many friends.

I remember going to get the mail at the post office and parking next to a ubiquitous Subaru stationwagon with two Hulley Roller kayak carriers and an "S" sticker on the bumper. I was driving a ubiquitous Subaru stationwagon with one Hulley Roller kayak carrier.

A beautiful, striking white haired woman came out of the post office and got into the Subaru. I smiled at her and initiated a conversation. I commented about her matched set of kayak carriers and asked her something about kayaking. We talked for a bit and then she drove off.

After she went I was thinking, "Gee, she seemed like a nice person; too bad this conversation didn't go much further because it would be nice to have some friends like her here with similar interests." I was so very lonely.

Here I am today with a great group of artist friends who were introduced to me by Tai Chi teacher, and it turns out, that the ubiquitous Subaru stationwagon with the two Hulley Roller kayak carriers and an "S" sticker on the bumper belongs to Judith, my Tai Chi teacher's wife. And I hadn't realized this until now!

There are two ways to interpret this. Either it is true that whatever kind of energy one puts out to the universe comes back, or it is true that whatever we believe we recruit, interpret or act in a way to accumulate evidence to verify and validate our beliefs.

Whichever, I am thinking this is just too cool.

If history didn't happen the way it did, we in the United States, would probably have government sponsored  healthcare and spell the word "color," "colour;" but it didn't, and so we celebrate Independence Day.

However, by adding the three letters T-E-R we might make a whole new holiday, InTERdependence Day. We are all interdependent; let us celebrate this fact.

Pictures following are from the Bayview, Idaho, Independence Day parade. The idea to participate came from Susie Snider, an entreprenurial whirlwind of a lady in our artist group - our goals: to have fun and also to advertise our fledgling Scenic Bay Arts Guild.

We made goofy hats out of newspaper, enumerated a couple of slogans, got sunburned (next time I'll bring some sunscreen.) and had lots of fun. It was very hot. That's probably why cool kept sneaking into my photos.





















Artists pictured from left to right:

-Susie, pastels
-Lauren, fibers
-Janine, photographs
-Jacque, pine-needle baskets
-Leata, sculptures


The wordsmithery is not mine. I got it from Bodhipaksa.

http://www.bodhipaksa.com/
http://www.bodhipaksa.com/archives/interdependence-quotations


We are all interdependent after all.

Once a month I get together with a group of local artists. We eat, talk and support each other's artistic endeavors. Last week we got together at Leata Judd's house. She and her husband Tom live off the beaten track and they have been there for a while.

When Leata gives directions she says, "You'll know you have arrived when you begin to see the faces on the trees." Miraculously I did not get any pictures of the faces on the trees, but I took pictures of many other faces. I wonder if Leata might get a bit lonely in the winter, thus her the focus on faces.

It was so much fun to wander around her place looking at her work. The following are some of the pictures that I did take. I would like to share them because Leata, who is a paper mache artist and sculptor, is such a special person with a wonderful sense of humor.  I hope you enjoy them.



























All these sculptures are © Leata Judd.

The teacher, Larry Clark, gets an "E" for effort. He put a lot of effort and energy into teaching and shared his expertise generously, answering my persistent questions. I became so involved that I let many of my other artistic efforts fall by the wayside. It became clear to me that clay, for me, can be addictive.

A big part of this class was being a part of a community of artists and hanging out with younger people. I enjoy their energy. With creative projects they are so cool because they don't know they can't do something so they do it anyway.

I learned that for the 20-30 something age group, there is absolutely no stigma about being a single mom, something that is different from my generation. One of my classmates, when asked if she was going to marry her boyfriend/father of her child remarked, "Gee, after you have a baby with someone, you learn things about them that make you not feel the need to marry." Yikes! What an interesting statement.

At NIC, there is an electric kiln and a big honkin' gas kiln. When pieces are fired in an electric kiln it is like putting them in a toaster, predictable. The gas kiln, on the other hand, is a trial by fire and the results can be either great or desastrous. It is best to not be too attached to a particular outcome.






A few of my pieces.






We had a sculpture assignment. My intention was to make a couple of spiral shapes. I didn't have much more of a concept. When I started doing the project, I was very aware of the space where the clay could go and then the clay just started growing and this weird creature thing happened. I say happened because I felt I wasn't the one doing this. It was transformative for me. Don't know if anything like this will happen again.






Does anyone care to help me with a name/title?

Yesterday we did a raku firing at North Idaho Colllege. Raku is a low fire ceramic technique from Japan.The kiln is portable. The top is pulled up, and when the pots are red hot, they are carefully taken out and placed in a trash can with straw. This treatment gives the bare places a black color and the accent-glazed places, hopefully, an oil-slick irridescent quality.

It's a social event. Everyone needs to cooperate and there is time to wait for things to happen. We all brought food, talked, ate, and admired each others work. With raku pieces, it's not a good idea to become too attached to a particular outcome. Lots of things can go wrong. It was fun watching the very young college coed trying a lift a heavier pot of mine with the tongs and failing three times. I was certain she'd drop it but she finally managed.












 
Black cracks in the white glaze are desirable.



Concerned NIC students shielding the pots on the top of the kiln from rain while they warm.

The kanji character for the term "raku" means enjoyment.

Martha, this is for you.