Thursday, November 26, 2015


Arrrrrghhhh. I am frustrated with myself. I have gone and got myself into a dangerous situation. I should know better. I thought that I was totally cured but it turns out it may have just been a precarious remission.

I have not created much this year. Yes, the book I published is techncially a creation and that took most of my time and focus as I scaled that curve to produce it. I am talking about creating with my hands. I mean, showing up in my studio and getting lost in the decades of 'stuff' that I have accumulated. I have not gone into my studio all year and it's only upstairs. The Stonetown Arts Show is what motivated me to finally get moving.

It actually hangs in a window where the light goes through it. In it there is glass & china & sea glass & other little treasures.
For years I have been wanting to make some 'glass cases'. About ten years ago, a dear friend out in Newfoundland made me one for our home out there. Because I love it so much, I asked him years ago if he minded if I made some for here in Ontario. He assured me that it was fine, that in fact he had seen a version somewhere so it wasn't his totally orginal idea.

That has been a creative mission for me for years but one that I have never acted on. Every time I broke something, I would keep the glass or china for the project. I had a huge bin of it - some really pretty pieces. But what did I do this spring when I was determined to edit and purge? Yep, I tossed it all out, convinced that it was just one of four dozen other ideas that I won't live long enough to accomplish. I was pretty proud of myself for letting it go.

And then came the desire to make something different for the show, and I thought about how these window cases delight me and decided that I would tackle that.

This one isn't hung yet either but you can see the light through it. I am happy that it has found a home already.
You can't really see it because of the light, but the frame is done in antique white chaulk paint.
After days and days of figuring out how I was going to make the frame and get the glass in, and a number of failed attempts, I finally got 'er done. Since I had released all my 'already broken' glass, my only option was to go on a hunt for more and do the breaking myself.

Enter the danger.

It is not that glass shatters and there are a million tiny little shards. It is not the fact that I don't wear gloves because I just don't. It's not that I have to pick up all the sharp pieces and transfer them into storage containers and then carefully sandwich them in the frame.

It is the fact that ... all too often already ... I can not make myself bring the hammer down. It's poised; I'm ready; I'm excited to see what the pieces turn out like. And then I freeze. I say 'I can't ... this is too pretty. This would make a good candle holder.” Most EVERYTHING would make a good candle holder in my eyes – little bowls, mugs, wine glasses, vases. This is just my first foray into breakage and out of fifteen things that I have carefully chosen for their colour and design, I have 'saved' ten of them.

And so ... here I am. Determined to down-size, to purge, to dung, to pare down and make space; to release things and see the odd bit of emptiness around here. And what am I doing? I am bringing all these things into my home with the good intention of them becoming fodder for my creations and they turn themselves into candle holders right before my eyes. Hence, there goes the space and any hope of profit. And then I will have to go shopping again and I know exactly what is going to happen.

This is very, very dangerous. Oh no.