I am often asked where I get my ideas for my work.  Here’s one example. 

In early 2007 I was itching to break away from my representational botanical pieces.  Although those pieces derive from my great love of botanical life, I was feeling hemmed in by copying what I saw in nature.  I wanted to open my work up with a sense of play, creativity and imagination. 

My first steps in this direction were branches with mixed fruits.  (Not very far from realistic, I know, but I guess I’m slow.)  I made Surreal Plums as a nod to Dali. 

Then one day while reading a book on Picasso, my attention was caught by this painting of Dora Maar, in which her hat looks triangular.  Somehow this sparked the idea that I should try making triangular leaves. 

Remembering Dora’s Hat was born from that idea.  I decided to experiment with white and with a coarse clover green frit.  I was almost shocked by the feel of this piece compared with my realistic pieces.  The sharp corners were foreign and the high contrast between the white leaves and the dark green of the branch added to the dramatic look. 

Figuring that being shocked by something new is a good catalyst, I made two more pieces in the Dora’s Hat series, this time with triangular blossoms.  First was Dora’s Hat In Bloom, in which I made the leaves, the blossoms and the entire plant in triangles.  Finally, I made a smaller Dora’s Hat In Bloom. 

These pieces lead to another experiment with geometric shapes, How Does Your Garden Grow?, with square leaves.  I have a set of yellow square leaves ready for another piece, which I will make when I get a new inspiration for the fruit or flowers.

And that is one story about how I get my ideas. 

                                                   Dora’s Hat In Bloom

How Does Your Garden Grow?

Today is my birthday. 51. 

It’s a strange experience to realize I am sitting on the other side of half way through my life.  Years ago my mom had cancer (she’s fully recovered!) and part of her treatment included declaring how long she wanted to live.  She chose 90.  It prompted me to think about my own life and I chose 100.  I want to live to be a fabulously successful 100 year old artist!  I always think, if I get too old for the physical demands of glass blowing, I will paint.  I hope by then somebody figures out how to make oil paints without the ghastly fumes.

Birthdays are a time when I reflect on what I’ve done in the last year and ask myself if I’m satisfied with what I “spent” that year on.  Did I let it dribble away, or did I really live the year?   I regularly live with the same impression – on a day-to-day basis, I always feel I could have worked harder and accomplished more.  I never seem to escape that voice sitting there on my shoulder, whispering into my ear, “you should be working harder, you should have this done already, you should have done more yesterday and you’d be ahead of where you are, you should already be there”.  But on my birthday I look back at my accomplishments and think, I’m living a good life.  My marriage and family are in good shape and that’s the most important.  Then, my career is coming along.  And yes, I could probably do more.  I could be less afraid of the things I don’t know how to do and less afraid of making mistakes with people.  This year I commit to more boldness!

Now, about expectations …

It must be hormonal changes.  When Reilly, our youngest son, turned three I had the experience of tangibly increased freedom.  I did not need to have my eye on him 24 hours a day, he could use the toilet, drink from a cup, sit at the table and feed himself.  Phew!  During that time I noticed my reaction to babies change.  I love babies, I can’t resist them; but after Reilly turned three, I was no longer charmed by babies.  This lasted years.  I have been on a mission, pursuing my dream of being one of the top glass artists in the world, and babies have not been appealing. 

Now, in the midst of a few years of hormonal changes approaching menopause, I find my feelings changing – I am completely drawn to babies again!  What is that?  I think female biology comes with hormones that inspire us to be mothers, then new hormones for raising our kids, and still more new hormones to prepare us for being grandmothers.  Curious!

My biological changes are showing up in life and in my art, of course.  I have not been the slightest bit interested in having pets, and recently decided I’m ready.  Now we are “expecting” a puppy.  In 2 1/2 weeks we will have our (for now) little great dane puppy.  I feel much like I did when expecting my kids.  Nervous, excited, nesting, making preparations.  I can’t wait. 

And I’m making “expectant plants” in glass.  Vines pregnant with fruits.  The fruits are contained within the plants, connected with umbilical cords.  So far I have made an expectant cyclone and I’m nearly done with another expectant vessel.  Here’s the vessel in process, the main body complete with lemon “fetus”, and the leaves laid out ready to attach.  Last will be the roots.  On Sunday I have a shoot scheduled with my photographer, Keay Edwards, and will post photos of the completed pieces.

In our family, we never seem to do anything small or conservatively.  It seems we commit and jump and then figure it out as we go.

Our latest adventure will begin in about 3 1/2 weeks – we are getting a puppy.  And not just any puppy; we are getting a great dane! 

We chose a female.  She’s now 4 1/2 weeks old and we will get her at 8 weeks old. 

Our family has been having fun naming her.  We have 3 sheets of paper on the refrigerator door.  All family members have been writing possible names and if anyone dislikes a name, they are free to cross it off.  We have some fun ideas such as Mr. Shickadance, Pinkerton, Mondinga, Grubblyplank, Fortinbras, Aberforth, and Spot; some traditional girl names such as Molly, Cally, Susie, Violet and Andie; some ideas with meaning to someone in the family such as Picassa, Piper and Monet.  Although I wasn’t serious about naming the dog this, I thought I made up a hilarious name:  Dawg E.  My kids insist, “That is NOT funny, Mom.  It’s not funny!”  It’s a family joke that I try to be funny and nobody thinks I am.  Apparently what’s funny is me trying to be funny.  

These are the latest photos of our puppy, taken about one week ago.   We are not settled on a name, but we’re getting ready for her – reading dog and puppy training books, gathering dog items, puppy proofing the house. 

I keep wondering if having a dog will produce new art inspirations.  Stay tuned.

In the early years of working with glass, my aim was to have a fun, interesting, and creative hobby.  I was making glass beads in my spare time, learning as I went, experimenting with a wide range of techniques, and thoroughly enjoying myself.  It was wonderful play, and the longer I played at it, the more something new began to grow in me – passion and commitment.

From today’s vantage point, I look back and remember my first tentative steps in the direction of serious commitment to my glasswork.  Upon reflection, it strikes me the enormous amount of courage required for a human being to declare a new direction for their life.   By definition, declaring a new direction means stepping into the unknown.  The moment we declare a new direction in life, along with the excitement of the new, we are faced with all that we don’t know about how to accomplish that new venture.

I can recall today the mixture of fear, hesitation, excitement and naiveté that engulfed me in those first few years.  I remember the pure joy I felt upon saying, “I’m going to be an artist”, my fear that some people I greatly respect would think I was making a big mistake, and my naiveté about what it means to be an artist – let creative inspiration flow in, make cool stuff, and people will love it and buy it.

Since those days, I have learned so much (including how much I still don’t know!).  My knowledge and commitment have continued to grow, as well as my ambition and my confidence.  Somewhere along my path I started to hesitantly hint at my dream of being one of the best.  A part of me still cringes when I say that.  Who am I to aspire to such a big ambition?!

Yet, that’s where I have arrived to:  I aim to be one of the top glass artists in the world.

On a daily basis I face that chasm of how much I don’t know about getting there and how much there is to take care of  in building a career and raising a family.  There are many, many, many, many days when I cannot see progress, when I feel stalled or I don’t know what to do, days when my art, my skills and my knowledge seem grossly insufficient, days when administrative work engulfs me and I can’t get to the studio, and days when I think I should just go get a job already!

Then there are days when I actually can see progress, when I see my art evolving or finish a piece that I especially love, or I make a sale, receive an inquiry from a new customer, days when I come up with a new idea I can’t wait to pursue.  Those days fuel me through the less inspired spells.

One such day arrived last week – the new issue of Glass Line magazine arrived with an important accomplishment.

Glass Line magazine has been dedicated to promoting and supporting the glass arts since 1987.  Their current issue (Volume 23, Number 2, August/September 2009) is a special edition celebrating excellence in flameworking/lampworking.  It features the top thirty-three contemporary American artists working with borosilicate* glass, as chosen by a jury of three:  Paul Stankard, Robert Mickelsen and Clinton Roman.  Stankard, Mickelsen and Roman are each highly accomplished, recognized and respected artists within various spheres of the glass art world, as well as knowledgeable about the history of flameworking and the scope and breadth of artists working in this discipline today.

Their goal was to present a survey of 30-35 contemporary artists whose work “represents the quality and originality of the broader spectrum”, and the “artists most directly responsible for the recent advances in flameworked glass artwork and technology.  The best of the best … those whose work had developed substantially, beyond the ordinary constructs of marketplace and function, of material and conformity” (Robert Mickelsen, page 6).

This issue includes articles by each of the jurors chronicling some of their personal experiences in the glass community, their views on the history and the status of flameworking today, and their thoughts about the thirty-three artists they chose.

I am honored to be included in this survey, in the company of such spectacularly talented artists!  This serves as a marker on the path to my dream of being one of the top glass artists in the world.   I’m on the right path and I’m traveling in the right direction.  Thank you, Mr. Mickelsen, Mr. Stankard and Mr. Roman!

Visit the Glass Line website to subscribe or to order this special edition.  www.hotglass.com
 
* Borosilicate is a specific type of glass conducive to flameworking.  It comes in a variety of forms including both clear and colored tubing in a range of diameters and wall thickness, clear and colored rods of varying diameters, colored frits (chips) in varying grit sizes, and colored powders.  One common brand of borosilicate is Pyrex.  It is a hard, hardy glass that holds up to the processes of flameworking.