Postcards from Paducah, day 22

Rubber ducks adorn an ornate concrete fountain, gingko trees line a bank drive-through, and turquoise pods nestle in magenta sepals. Just another day in Paducah, Kentucky. In full disclosure, the rubber ducks are a surprise sighting during tonight's walk; the trees are sought out, following a tip from Judeen; and the botanical specimen is plucked by Anita from a fragrant bush in her garden. It continues to feel magical here.

Today, Pinecone Studio has visitors from "the boats." The American Queen and Queen of the Mississippi dock in the Port of Paducah from May through November. Then a chartered bus delivers sightseers to Lower Town, where they can walk into any gallery sporting an "open" banner. At least a half dozen individuals appear, haling from Louisville to Australia. It's a bit like Second Saturday.

In between these visits, I complete the piece, "Postcards from Paducah." Then it's time to refresh "the little grey cells" - to quote Agatha Christie's character Poirot, which is when and where on my walk, I encounter rubber ducks, gingko leaves, and turquoise pods. There is also a shop offering art, art supplies, and craft workshops. Ephemera is a 50th birthday present owner Kristin Williams bestowed upon herself, and is just across the street from the Paducah School of Art and Design. She features local artists: quilts by Rose Hughes, beads by Bob Davis, and a charming alphabet book on Paducah illustrated by Bill Renzulli, Gay Speirbahn, and Stefanie Graves, to name a few.

Time to consider tomorrow: installation day at Studio Mars. It is always a pleasant surprise to see the individually-created pieces intentionally located together. And so begins an entirely new dialogue. Let the conversation begin!

Postcards from Paducah, days 20 & 21

An artist is both worker and boss. Yesterday, the boss told the worker that "enough is enough." Desiring yet one more piece for Friday's exhibit, I create a collage and spend the day sewing it together. Early in the process I consider discontinuing the effort but press on. You guess correctly: it's disastrous and it's in the trash.

Rather than mourning the loss of time and effort, I acknowledge the inherent lessons: listen to my inner voice, persistence does not always pay off, letting go often does. If every artistic effort results in a successful outcome, where does discovery emerge? If perfectionism is a paramount goal, where does creative joy enter? Let's face it, we more readily share our triumphs than our tragedies.

I finish Monday's studio time ensuring that every monofilament tie-off receives a reinforcement of glue, that every strip of paper is adhered and secure. Tuesday begins with a bit of negotiating at the dry cleaners, but ends with positive energy following collegial visits to Pinecone Studio. Margaret Claus-Gray and Rosemary, (escorted by Lily Liu), were unable to attend last week's Paducah Fiber Artists meeting due to weather, but are in sunny Paducah today. We are all sharing our creations, oohing and aahing.

Then a visit by Judeen, who lives and works around the corner in a building she designed as part of the Artist Relocation Project a decade ago. It's beautiful, and for sale, as are a variety of objets d'art, books, tools, and more. To say Judeen is prolific is an understatement: fiber art, stained glass, and ceramics. She delved into ceramics with a passion, partaking in the senior benefits at the Paducah School of Art & Design - tuition waived. Give her a call (270-444-9525) to set up an appointment, although you are forewarned; you will not leave empty-handed.  

Although the sun has set, I want to extend a special thank you to Char Downs, owner of Pinecone Studio, who is a great listener. Especially as she deals with her own curatorial demands, readying for "Phantasmagoria E," a happening where viewers discover artwork via flashlight in the darkened Studio. Select artists are creating works using one ordinary item from the Old E Hotel, premiering anonymously on - when else? - Halloween. Works are for sale, participating artists are featured in an accompanying book, and the reception is Second Saturday, November 8. I'm working on a creation for this event, but I cannot tell you more...it's a secret for now!

Postcards from Paducah, days 18 &19

Ideal weekend; rapturous sky, sunlit butterfly, Halloween decorations appear in windows, and pumpkins on doorsteps. On Saturday afternoon, three walk-ins (thank you, Victoria, for sending them to Pinecone Studio) visit from Indiana, Missouri, and Florida. At 11pm, Freda Fairchild appears at the studio door, enroute to her own work/live space. We chat about, what else, our current art explorations. I share a few magazines that I've finished - Surface Design, and Fiber Art Now, and then Saturday rolls into Sunday.

I decide to utilize the oval embroidery hoop as an armature for yet another suspended artwork. The intensity of my daily routine reminds me of my college days in 2008-2009, consistently staying up until 1am and 2am. It's burnout mode, but I sense that this is just the kindling for a bonfire of creativity. Ah yes, I can hear my Greenville friend, Alice, asking "why do you want to do an installation?" and, just the other day, a Paducah artist voiced the very same query. My answer: I want to give you an art experience.

Off the wall, out of the frame, moving in the air. Perhaps it's a bit like theater, casting players and directing. Or a concert that has a finite beginning and end, leaving only a memory. I could continue the analogies with dance and poetry, but you get the idea.

So, the latest piece - note the binder clips are serving a temporary function - is quite difficult to convey via photography. The layers are lace curtain outside, negative gingko leaf shapes inside, and several strands of gingko leaves suspended in the center. The gingko leaves are digitally printed with details from my "Edo Influence" collage/cradled wood series. The negative shapes are actually the carrier-sheets for the die-cut gingko leaves. There are over 70 leaves in this piece, with 40 of the 8-1/2x11-inch carrier-sheets sewn together. I like the effect, but you need to see it in person.

All of these numbers remind me of a question Paducah Sun journalist Laurel Black posed: "Do you find the work tedious, or contemplative?" It is both. I wonder if there is an artist who has figured out how to better manage or avoid this necessary step? Other than sending one's work to China. That's a conversation for another time. For now, sleep!

Postcards from Paducah, day 17

It is always good to be interviewed. What I hear is the current conversation in my mind, where in the course of the interview, I also "overhear" some previously unspoken insight, either from myself or the interviewer. Laurel Black of the Paducah Sun leaves the studio with notes on my discourse, responses to questions, and numerous photos that are due to appear in an article in the local newspaper next Thursday. This was a good part of the day.

Then there is the other - not the grocery shopping, by the way. It's the struggle to enclose the top of the walk-in installation piece. It's also what seems like a waste-of-time attempt to move another piece to resolution. Cut, combine, disassemble; all the while knowing that I should walk away from this artistic dialogue that feels more like an argument, or perhaps just a tiff. "Why won't you resolve?" "What do you need?" "I should just discard you!" But I resist the call of the koi pond outside, and try yet one more potential solution for my problem child. While I am in process, I hear voices outside the studio, in the dark.

I think to myself that the comments must be emanating from passersby as they admire the fun park bench in front of Pinecone Studio's window. No, two women are not looking down at the bench but are heads back, eyes wide, and mouths exclamatory. I realize they are viewing my suspended installation pieces. I invite Erica and Monica inside (if the "c" should instead be a "k," I am sure they will understand my misspelling) where it is now 6:30pm. Erica, a Lower Town resident, informs me that she was drawn across North 7th Street to take a closer look. Monica, celebrating her birthday but approaching her parked car, is also curious. Their enthusiasm bubbles out into the studio air and transforms my earlier artistic funk.

I suspend the revamped problem piece, perhaps finally resolved, and decide to venture through the studio door. I need to see what captured Erica's and Monica's attention. My attempts to photograph the nighttime scene are blurry, and my vision will never be the "first time" experience that you enjoy, but here are the pics anyway.

Thank you, Laurel, Erica, and Monica - you made my day.

Postcards from Paducah, days 15 & 16

Indulge me in the mushroom pic; I can't resist the sculptural quality and the fact that it so unassumingly exists near the sidewalk on Jefferson Street in Paducah. It's a quiet discovery that makes this overcast day magical.

The Paducah School of Art & Design, West Kentucky Community and Technical College, casts its own magic. Thanks to Carrie and Gustavo, I am warmly welcomed as I drop in to visit both of the School's locations: Broadway and Madison streets, the former anchors downtown Paducah while the latter anchors the Lower Town Arts District. Pristine, naturally lit and well equipped, the newer Lower Town location boasts studios for ceramics, small metals, sculpture, wood, metal fabrication, and a foundry. Dark but workable, with a set of creaky stairs, the older downtown location currently houses the drawing and painting programs. I say "currently" because the doors to a rehabilitated Lower Town building will open in 2016 - literally across the street from the arts district PSAD - for students pursuing drawing, painting, photography, visual communication and multimedia. 

Here's another part of magical: nontraditional and traditional students work alongside each other and, for those age 65 and older, tuition is waived. I might have to move here.

Yes, I am working in the studio on the walk-in piece...until 2am yesterday. Well, technically, today. Except that it's 1am, so it's actually Thursday. Never mind.

I find that living with work in progress, greeting it daily with fresh eyes, and listening to visitor's reactions is a good recipe for creative brewing. And I have to be honest with you that today I am struggling with the energy of the work. Is it too produced? Is it now missing that "raw" energy so palpable in earlier pieces? Installations are at a scale that require either large elements or a large quantity of elements, that demand engineering and logistical thinking as well as conceptual. Where to find the balance and the truth in the midst of it all?

While I ponder all of this, an invitation to a delicious meal at the home of Bill and Patience Renzulli, amidst their seven (!!) whippets, is such a welcome addition to the day. And when I mention that I plan to visit Paducah again following my artist residency, Bill offers to cook pasta.

Postcards from Paducah, day 14

"Short and sweet" could be the title of today's blog. Basically, I post yesterday's blog this morning, procure more project supplies, and experiment with the large suspended piece. As you can see, part of the process is clipping connected gingko leaves to vertical strips - in this case, what is referred to as "decorative mesh"; all suspended from the metal (wreath) armature. Admittedly, I appreciate the kinetic nature of being an artist: sitting, standing, and even ladder-climbing. Conversely, I exercise patience with the repetitive and sedentary tasks: cutting, connecting, sewing and weaving. Process, process, progress...and finally, product.

Highlight of the day? Well, one is when Jay intuitively walks into the large in-progress suspension. And smiles. Yes! Five years ago when I created a walk-in "kimono," more often than not, I had to invite viewers to enter the interior of the suspended piece. It's permissible. It's intended. It will be interesting to see the response of gallerygoers to this walk-in piece next week at the installation's opening. But if you've read this blog, you'll know that it's a walk-in. Yes!

Postcards from Paducah, day 13

This is gratifying: cutting the 192 x 7-inch paper weaving into seven strips approximately 32 inches in length each, then reassembling the components into a more three-dimensional suspended piece. And it looks less like a snake skin, the most common response upon viewing the mottled tones; even I couldn't get past the association - one I was not purposively trying to achieve. 

I am also beginning the largest installation piece of my residency, a walk-in (potentially) suspension. In the wings is the Postcards from Paducah artwork, an ongoing effort: incorporating strips of printed blog ("Postcards from Paducah") as they are written, published online, and then inserted into the drum-like armature.  Yet one more armature patiently waits its turn before I install the October 24 exhibit here in Paducah. Amidst this experimentation, there is the realization that in less than 18 days I begin the process of disassembling and packing all of these creations for the return trip to Greenville, South Carolina. Yikes! Push that thought into the far corners of my mind and enjoy the moment.

Enjoying the moment is one of Paducah's fortes. On Sunday, over a dozen blocks were cordoned off for Bikes on Broadway - not a race or marathon, but simply a courtesy the town extends its citizens for the pure joy of bicycling to the river sans traffic concerns. This coming weekend, everyone is talking of donning appropriate cultural costumes for the 4th annual Maiden Alley Cinema's Oktoberfest. I have just learned of yet another annual event: Halloween on Jefferson Street, where six residential blocks are, once again, cordoned off for a massive candy giveaway. I understand that in previous years, despite tornado warnings and rain, between 3,000 to 4,000 trick-or-treaters were treated to an extravaganza. So that the homeowners don't have to take out second mortgages, friends and volunteers are recruited to donate the sweet treats, as well as distribute them. See what I mean?

Tonight I am treated to a potluck and show-and-tell at the meeting of the Paducah Fiber Artists group. The massive rainstorm that pummeled the neighborhood earlier is deterring many of the regular attendees. Among the handful of animated members present - sharing stories, book recommendations, career updates, and current projects - are host and quilt artist Rose Hughes, fiber potter Lily Liu, artist Freda Fairchild, curator of the National Quilt Museum Judy Schwender, and owners of Jefferson Street Studios art-quilter Helene Davis and Nerokomi-beadmaker Bob Davis. Lily offers to accompany me on a visit next week to the Jefferson Street Studios. In the meantime, she is working nonstop to meet her goal of 50 handmade scarves for an Oktoberfest booth. Yes, the one this weekend.

It is quite tempting to simply walk, visit artist studios, take in a film or performance or event, watch the seagulls at the river's edge - you know, enjoy the moment - but I must maintain my focus and "visit" the Artist-in-Residence studio so graciously provided me. Sigh. I'll save some of the fun for my return to Paducah.