My art is like a song, first in the distance, I hear it softly.
The tune catches a place in my heart and I feel it closer.
It goes from a few disconnected notes and keeps swelling.
I hear the song completely.
I see it in my mind.
I hear it in my heart.
It moves me in a dance, the flames of the torch, the softness of the fabric.
I see it, piece by piece, come together in my hands.
I recognize it as the notes I first heard in the distance.
A mixture of mediums is how my art is made.
It could be fibers, gently teased apart to become felt or ceramics fired in my kiln.
It could be precise sewing, either by hand or machine, each stitch evenly spaced.
Often it’s metal, cut and welded, manipulated and shaped by heat.
Sometimes it’s done in quiet meditation in comfort and seclusion.
Sometimes it’s in my welding shop, where it’s hot and gritty and I have to pay close attention because it is dangerous.
No matter which one of the mediums I am using I hear the music and I dance.
Prayer for Peace
Her testimony. Our words
Artist @ Play
From my Blog
As we sail out of Rudesheim we are headed to Amsterdam on the most scenic stretch of the river. Castles perch on the sides of the river from high above us, or straight out from us on the bank of the river. By the time we pull into Amsterdam this afternoon we will have traveled 1129 miles, through 5 countries, in two weeks. I found this map [...]
All morning we cruised the Rhine River. Since leaving Budapest the upper deck (the sun deck) has been closed due to the low lock clearance and the low bridges but now the Rhine runs wider and has much more clearance. The captain has a smile on his face. I am sure the responsibility of bringing this ship ($$$$) and all his passengers safely through the waters that [...]