An infinite number of monkeys and typewriters

An artist is defined by his or her body of work. Body of work, artist, no body of work, not artist. I said I would call myself an artist after I had made 100 sculptures. It doesn’t matter to me whether they are large or small, just that they are each unique from the one before. It’s hard to do this. Sometimes I look at some of my earliest pieces like “Resolve” and wonder if I can do that again. Other times I say, “Sure, what’s next will be unique and own its particular space”. But they’re not always good and like life good things balance with the less good. There are a number of my pieces living out their days in the woods. Quietly returning to the earth in the form of rust. But I have learned something new from every one. And I’m crowding 100.

Just in time too. My nephew is graduating from Pratt with a BFA and he is really good. A painter, and innately blessed with talent, we’re going to see some fun things come out of his studio. Thanks to family I get the opportunity to try and engage him in collaboration. I’ll learn from his experience and perhaps I can show him a thing or two from the errors I’ve made. This will be a lot of fun.

The other day my brother asked me if Annie is happy to be alive. My response was “Yes, 90% of the time”. And it isn’t that she doesn’t want to be here the other 10% it is just that sometimes it is very hard to keep doing everything she has to do just to make it through the day. But the rest of the time, with interesting things happening, art flowing forth, nephews with real talent (his mom and my dad flowing through) getting out into the world, she’s glad she is getting to see this phase. I am too. We wouldn’t miss this next generation’s impact for anything. 

A plethora of projects

It is good to be busy. I have a number of projects coming my way and while I’d like to do them all I’ll have to let some go. Work is good. Making art is good. Both are filling my days well. Yet, each time I finish something I’m left with a tiny bit of emptiness. It isn’t a negative feeling just one of “okay, what’s next?”. But continuing to grow, improve and learn is what these projects are all about. Like care-giving and therapy. Each successful turn is fulfilling. Each turn a moment of reflection.

I have always admired my mother’s curiosity and desire to continue learning. Perhaps a little of it was passed on. I know my paternal grandfather’s ability to work with his hands was. So the fish pictured below is about the schools of fish that form a larger “creature” in order to fend off aggressors. Maybe it has a shade of Gestalt theory and therapy like most of my art. I am learning and hopefully improving. Making things is…

Regardless, this one is finished and perhaps it will hang somewhere other than on my paint rack.

A most interesting conversation

Important and telling words come from the most unsuspected directions. I’m having some work done on the house. As my brother says “Keep everything sale ready”. Not that we are going to sell, but keep your options open and enjoy the house in always "like new" condition - and enjoy the improvements. The owner of the company, (we’ll call him Jerry), doing the work stopped by to check on the job. He liked my sculpture and was quick to mention the pieces he liked in particular. He also was telling me about another sculptor in the area, Damian Prior. Damian’s works are all over the country.

We began to discuss art, life and surprises. Turns out Jerry is also a caregiver. He has a daughter born with complications (now grown) that took a tremendous amount of care and toll. He has been in the role of a caregiver for the majority of his life. He deals with stress by working - though even he says he doesn't need to work as much as he does. His team of workers is largely self sufficient and very good. They clean up as they go along and are incredibly fast. They'll be out of here in two days. Jerry is going to bring his wife out tomorrow to see my art. I’m flattered since she apparently is an artist by training. Jerry is also a caregiver to his wife. The stress of her caregiving to their child proved to be very tough on her.

While discussing art, life and surprises we covered a lot of ground in a short time. We quickly agreed that there is always someone who has it worse. There are lots of small joys in life if you keep your eyes open. There is a lot to be said for taking advantage of opportunities to take care of ones self. Bear down, stay focused and keep moving forward.

When Jerry was doing some work at Damian’s ranch he noted sculpture all over the place – sort of like it is here. Damian told him, “Oh, that’s just inventory. It will all go someplace”. I like that. Damian died last September at 61. He never complained about his cancer.

An interesting juxtaposition – Art and Healthcare

I’m in the middle of two fascinating worlds. On one side I am surrounded by art, on the other I am deep in the healthcare world. I’m involved with both for the same reason – passion.

When Annie was hospitalized I was unable to make sense of the healthcare system. The “nod and wink” billing, the unfathomable amount of waste and most of all the errors. I was left with the feeling I must try and do something that might have an impact in a positive way. And it is hard to do. Whenever there are huge volumes of financial “flow" there are even greater levels of resistance to change. Five years later I am immersed in the side of healthcare software that focuses, through competency, on improving patient outcomes. It is a rising tide. Cost cutting and legislation are having a negative impact on patient outcome. Skills checking, checklists and required maintenance for up to date skills are the counterbalancing positive.

There is a parallel to what I am doing in the art world. Maintaining ones skills in medicine requires didactic as well as “hands on” application. It is the same as making in art. I can read all I want but until I apply the learning to my process I do not improve. And the passion? Yes in both. I would never want anyone to go through what Annie went through just on errors in the day to day process of keeping her alive. Without diligence the mistakes made could have been fatal a number of times.

Checklists and competency training are key to a good outcome whether you're starting an IV, connecting a welder or turning on a table saw. Checklists, competency training and verification of skills have made the airlines very safe. The same needs to apply to medicine.

Now to work on those studio checklists…

Urban Bones - Those distressed rebar rods that come to the surface as we excavate for new construction. Makes an interesting table base.

Some locally heavy

It rained. Finally we will get a break in cedar (Mountain Juniper) fever season. Worst year ever since we haven’t had rain to wash down the trees. At least I’m not stuck indoors just because of the air. Cedar tree pollen for those that are sensitive gives flu like symptoms and makes everything itch. I mean itch – eyes, ears, nose, throat, skin – even my hair itches. Nothing seems to work against it as the pollen explodes in a yellow cloud from the trees and gets into everything. Pity party.

Being stuck indoors makes the home atmosphere a little heavy too. Too much “togetherness” builds too much time for analysis and the enticing “look-backs”. We’re close to six years into this and it still seems like yesterday when the crisis hit us. I suppose that is because it never goes away. One does not “get well” from an injury like this. One just adapts. Gabby Gifford steps down and now so will Senator Mark Kirk. I’m sure he’ll put up a good front like the Congressman Giffords but in the end they will be too fundamentally changed to handle the workload. Too many thought processes damaged or rerouted to be “there” for the demands of public interaction. We know and we sympathize with them. Still they will get to see another sunset, another star filled night and participate in life. That is a pretty fair trade.

So much for navel gazing. The skies are cloudy, more rain on the way and lots of work to do. Hard physical work and challenging mental work. My sculpture work is backlogged and a couple refurbishments beckon, consulting work goes on in business. Rehab is ongoing. The horizon still shines. Some locally heavy storms – we’ll just deal with them.

Doing the Heavy Lifting

I find a lot of analogies between my sculpture work and my care-giving duties. To say care-giving is heavy lifting might be an exaggeration but there are times when it is truly a burden. It has been said that any job can be done; all it takes is the right tools. My favorite tools for care-giving support are the “co-pilots”. It’s Monday and the Holidays are pretty much over. This morning Katherine came cheerfully bouncing in to help Annie with her day. They put away the minimal decorations and took off to get new tires on the car. From there it is to the grocery. Three things I didn’t want to do today are already done.

I’m building a gantry crane today and tomorrow. I need it to lift equipment and tools. The metal stores are still closed so today is more planning than building. My time is freed up to do the heavy lifting. Thanks co-pilots. 

Urban Flowers - and other lessons learned

I built an arbor for a commercial plant operation this last summer. It took me longer than I expected because I had to build it twice. It isn’t the first time I have had to do something twice – or more – when it met neither client’s aspirations nor mine. In almost every case the metal generally can and is repurposed into something else. And generally it is a progressive lesson or learning experience. Like care-giving, you have to live it to know there will be progressive learning and lessons twice or more learned. Perhaps as General Patton (as played by George C. Scott) allegedly said “I don’t like to pay for the same real estate twice”, lessons sometimes are expensive.

In this case I am repurposing a couple thousand bucks worth of steel tubing. For the project I chose steel tubing rather than pipe for strength and weight considerations. I envisioned tree boughs linking through the rings and the tree becoming guided sculpture and the sculpture/arbor becoming one with the trees. The client saw the rings and looked at me in horror. Apparently I didn’t think about the rings cutting off and chocking the tree limbs. But once again, like care-giving, I’d set aside patience, jumping right in before considering the consequences. An arbor requires patience. Wishing a tree forward will not make it grow any faster. I went out and visited the installation last week and saw that the tree wasn’t cooperating and growing at a rate that would engage the arbor anytime soon. The two remain separated like uneasy relatives or in-laws on holidays. It will take a long time for the trees to become one with the arbor and so patience, nurturing, and limb training will be the point of the study for the next several years.

I get to reset my expectations…sound familiar?

Meanwhile the original arbor, now reduced to pieces by metal cutting wheels, starts a new life as a “skeletal” frame for a full-scale (very large) creature on which I will report appropriate progress. And the limbs and rings, they quite by accident became an “urban flower”.