Beach Dreams

In my last blog posting I set out on my ‘North Carolina beaches’ daydream.  This week I continued down the same sandy trail to the beach.  I moved along more beach piece themes, including finishing the background weaving for my ‘Sally Sells Seashells’ reprise.  Over the winter someone gave me some sea stars, which I’ve never incorporated into a weaving before.  In the background I also included sand dollars and a wealth of shells, which creates a movement in the piece that I like.  I make sandy frames for my beach pieces, and I created one before the rains came this week.  Unfortunately, the high humidity and low temperatures have prevented me from completing the polyurethane seal on the frame.  I’m hoping I can get to that project later in the day, but I’ve got a lot going on!  

 It’s the Trashion-Refashion show at the Buskirk Chumley theater tonight.  There will be a Discardia pop-up store where I’ll show my latest Re-Shirts and new spring Sweater Petals.  I’m really looking forward to seeing the designs, which are a tightly kept secret before the actual show.  It’s quite the challenge to keep the designers from leaking images of their work on the web before the show, because everyone is excited about their contributions—but happily, they have. 

My life took me to some interesting venues last week.  I watched the boy’s first lacrosse practice last Sunday, which went well.  On Monday was the Spinner’s and Weaver’s Guild auction.  It’s such a funny group, and we haggle and negotiate over all the yarns.  Most of them create wearable pieces, so their yarn needs to be soft and cozy.  They know if there’s a hideous green, scratchy fiber I’ll probably want it—which is true!  I need a diversity of colors and textures, and it can be hard to find the perfect yarn for grasses and vegetation.  On Wednesday I did an interview with a fellow from WIUX.  He and I met at my History Center show and we talked about the art and life in general.  I cancelled a 4^th Street Festival meeting on Thursday night due to predicted weather that never really materialized, so I did have one quiet evening at home.  

 Friday, however, I went to the FiberFair in Greencastle with my friend Ruth Rives.  It’s our yearly adventure, which always seems to be horribly cold and often wet.  Because of the rain I wore my rubber boots, which led to two frozen feet before we had gotten too far.  One of the vendors was selling alpaca felted boot liners.  I bought a pair and, oh-my-gosh, they were amazing!  Ruth of course said she could have made me felted wool liners, but I needed them right then.  I picked up lots of green fleece and yarns, as well as some dried yellow and oranges.  I depleted my stocks considerably when I completed my pepper piece late last year.  The Fiber Fair is a good venue to re-stock and interact with the vendors I only see once a year over the past ten years or so.  All in all, it was another great week!  But…   no pie!  Shouldn’t the rhubarb be up by now? 

Until next week,

Martina Celerin 

Thoughts of warmer weather…

We’re back in the icebox in southern Indiana after a nice warm-up last week. While my frozen toes understand reality, my mind is off in warmer places. I finished my seashell piece, but with a twist that took even me by surprise. I had very carefully laid out a pattern for the large shells, designed to create clear movement as you visually took in the piece. Then my inner child quickly surveyed the piece and clearly demanded: MORE SHELLS! I watched as she grabbed a handful from my ‘shells with holes’ bag and proceeded to dump them on the piece. I gave her a healthy snack to settle her down a little, and while she was eating I arranged the shells a little. I loved the idea of having a little chaos in the front, and yet if you look carefully you can still see the underlying pattern and flow. Now there’s a metaphor for my life with kids! Or maybe the feel of the piece just captures that little depression in the beach you find where all the shells collect at low tide. There’s usually a cute little beat-up seastar that didn’t handle the surf well. That’s the metaphor for my husband.

A lot of other new or commissioned art is also coming together in my studio, and some of it will unexpectedly be on display around town this month. I got word from Jean Kautt at Bloomingfoods (she organizes the Blooming Arts Series) that the February artist had a family emergency and couldn’t hang a show. I have a few new birch pieces (birches, beaches—I’ve got to branch out), plus a few ‘previously shown’ pieces that I’ll hang at both Bloomingfoods locations. The show will be called “Thoughts of Warmer Weather: Water and Sunshine”. The east side store will feature ‘Water’ and the west side will be ‘Sunshine’ in case you’re wondering. I won’t show my new ‘Home Grown Tomatoes’ commission piece, but after adding the last little cluster of tomatoes it looks warm, happy and yummy. This weekend I’ll complete the attaching and call it done. I’ll also be at Wonderlab this Friday as part of their “The Science of Color Series”, doing a kid- and adult-friendly community art project. We’re going to build a large Eastern Tiger Swallowtail mosaic out of wine corks that volunteers have been painting for the project. Stop on by and share in the fun!

Finishing pieces also means new beginnings, and at the moment I’m struggling to decide which piece to launch into next. I have several ideas swirling around in my head, and basically I’ll just wait to see what the weather is like Monday to decide which color palate I need to work with. The first piece will present a chameleon, sitting on a fernlike compound leaf. The second will feature a sand crab on a beach pocked with crab holes. Keeping the sand out of their living room carpets must be quite a task—I’m sure there’s a great market for rugged sand crab vacuum cleaners. The third piece hits a little closer to home, to be called something like ‘The Transplant’. It will show a section of earth with a freshly dug hole, ready to receive a geranium with a severely overgrown root ball. If you’ve ever bought a flower that’s spent a little too much time at the greenhouse with abundant light and fertilizer you know what I mean. It’s going to be a little painful (for everyone involved) to break up the root ball and get started in a new environment, but you know it’s both necessary and the right thing to do. I think about my own transplantations that way, whether it was my move from Ontario to Bloomington, or whether it was my move from world of science into the art community. I owe a lot to the gardeners along the way, and I know that with a little light, water and fertile ground, anyone can blossom!

Until next week…