An Artists' Life


This is a work tray; sometimes when I can't begin to get started working, I stare at the beads for a while with my eyes sort of squinted, and move the little cups of color around. It helps me a lot. Many people think my work tray is nicer than my work.

I left a dangling paragraph way back, but before I return to continue my wish list of places I miss going: the ocean, Monhegan Island especially - now stop that - but before I continue this list, I wanted to comment on two photos. Scroll down past the encased vignette and you'll find me. I want that photo over on the right, permanently sitting where the template showed me I could put it. However, I don't yet have the skills to do it. I have come oh so close, but not close enough.

Next thing is about the encased vignette. Or that is what I call them. I have made about five of them, and then during an unfortunate bout of illness, destroyed all but one. This is the remaining one, and needs a replacement lamp. I was told that the lamp would last forever, so forever turns out to be judicious use over about 3 years. Kind of annoying, as I really sealed that baby up, and haven't quite decided how to reach the fixture. Oh boy, I backed myself into the corner with this thing. Or should say, built myself into the corner.

My friend Stanley appeared for a visit while I was hand-cutting window holes in the front facade of the piece and was very concerned. I was tired and messy, and he asked when I planned on stopping. I told him that was a big problem for me, stopping before such things were done. I try to control the work and not let it control me, but I get so absorbed in it, well, I forget all about time...

There is an entire story inside this box, which you can't really see. There is a very tiny two story farm house, which I made, as well as a corner cupboard, which holds a few knick-knacks. There is a Queen Anne armed chair, with the legs removed, and an Alice in Wonderland, not like the teeny one outside the box. She is a different Alice, with loads of curls and a beguiling look on her sweet face. Her costume lets us know right away who she is. But no matter who she is, she isn't allowed to sit on the lovely chair, and must sit forever on the floor.

Meanwhile, there is Pinocchio in a tiny bird cage, which I also made, and he looks cramped and unhappy. Made of jointed lead, and imported from the UK, he is so well detailed, I am fascinated by him. But his lying has trapped him in his jail forever. It is beautiful, but still, it is jail.

The cupboard is filled with pretty 'things' but nothing good to eat, or dinner plates to put food on. No hospitality here. It feels harsh and forbidden, even though it's colors are so warm. The lace curtains in the beveled crystal windows are handmade, and just charming, inviting, bringing to mind thoughts of Tollhouse cookies and cups of cocoa with extra marshmallows. Certainly no thoughts of raising children here who dragged their childhood forth like a duffle bag of angst, into their adulthood, marriages, all they did and said and thought.

So I didn't know anything about this box at all until I decided to bring it to show my therapist. Now if I had given this thought more than a passing touchdown, and examined it for motivations, I might have seen myself raising the red flag, or hoisting the flag upside down, indicating some kind of deep problem, but I can't remember what, naturally, motivated me at all. Oh yes, I was looking for her approval, just as I had looked for my mother's approval.

The thing is, it is filled with symbolism, but I myself don't know what it is all about... my therapist of that time was into one's inner child. She dumped me for mysteries all her own, and announced in group she was marrying one of the other women in our group. Here is how I felt about that: Like she had chosen a favorite out of the whole school and would probably never care about any of the rest of us quite the same again. She wasn't too ethical a therapist, 'ey?

So I wanted John to be able to see the encased vignette, as I am calling these boxes, which I also just call 'boxes'. I have the urge to start making them again, and this leads directly back to where I want to go. To a store call Earth & Tree, where I buy amazing miniature 'lumber' and fret work and tiny doors, pre-made, for my little boxes. Also kits to make the other stuff inside the box. It is very difficult to find a place with a handful of quality miniatures, and good building supplies, let alone the magical world you walk into when you open their door. It is so much fun to shop in there, I always have to set my budget before shopping. I have sold a tiny house - just like the one inside the vignette - stained natural, kind of a very dk. oak. The people came from far away to see it, and asked me to call them when I had more things to show them. My usual palette is way too over the top for them, but I did appreciate that sale.

I want to go to all the museums in Boston, to watch a Redsox Game, and see my own work hanging in the Copley Society, then stay over in some cool hotel in Boston. Neat. I want to go to Cape Cod again, and just go everywhere. This list always starts with going to see Esme, Baya, Rebecca & Nathaniel in Rhode Island. That is #1 for sure. I have a fantasy of going on a vacation with them. I love those twins, and want to see more reactions of people to them in public... I am so proud of them, I must admit. Bad bad bad. I want to go more places, but for now, bed will do.