Pained dolls at Gallery 9...Not thrilled with these...I've moved on.
Mom and cool Corgi dog at Gallery 9, Lincoln, NE(a painting I covet in the background.)
Ceramic dolls at Gallery 9. These rock. She also made a Leda and the Swan, which my Aunt Sharon and I both liked a lot. Think I'll make a Leda doll someday.
This is where I'd live if I felt pretty all the time:my own enchanted cottage.
I made this cottage at Art Fiber Fest. The next few posts are going to be about my trip to Portland, and what I made there. Also about our family vacation to NE last week.
Here's a story about "art camp." I met a wonderful girl at ArtFiberFest, Leslie, whom I really enjoyed. I related to her immediately because she said two things that often occur to me when I'm making art:
The first was something about the act of creating being a God-given act, as in "the creator creates...et voila! so do we!"
I used to feel humbled when I made something because I thought making (can I even claim it?) "art" was just an over-the-top, too-big-for-my-britches kind of pasttime. At the end of the day, I possessed a fully satisfied, but humbled disposition, as well as a small nagging voice in my head saying, "Who do you think you are, making that thing?" (Probably a common sentiment among young mothers who have plenty of other chores they could be doing.) And oddly, in spite of everything, I truly wasn't sure who I was. Call it hormones.
Now, thankfully, I'm beginning to know who is this person making (sure, say it!) art, and also -- this is big -- I know God approves, or at least I don't seem to need His/Her approval...for in making art/music/dance/whatever, we honor the Creator. BIG TIME. At least I think so. Making stuff is NO collossal waste of time!
The second thing Leslie said was something along these lines: "Whenever I try to make something "pretty" it just never turns out pretty. I'm not there yet."
Oy, do I know that; I know I do not have a pretty girl inside me! I went to Gallery9 in Lincoln, NE last week with my mom and my Aunt who invited me. I got to see a couple of dolls I sent as a guest exhibitor, as well as some really wonderful art like the ceramic dolls above. (And darn it; I didn't write down the artist's name!) I really did cringe a little bit, because having just returned from art camp in Portland, those dolls I made last year (to my eyes) seemed so pained and contrived. Ironically, just days before, I had felt so free. What I saw in those dolls I sent: Pretty -- with cramps. Ok, so what do I expect with a doll that has torn out her heart and extends it in front of her? And another dressed in a super-hero costume? I do realize there is something a little tart in all that. But still, I did try for "pretty" in a way...and failed.
But the cottage; ah, now there's something pretty! And yet, the broken woman's torso is stitched on as a chimney...after all, every woman has to let off a little steam now and then!
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