March 4

 Working on two small figures today, each about 15 inches tall. The first I had made several weeks ago -- it had a body with lots of small nails and tacks driven into it (like an African nkisi figure), long arms hanging down on each side. What were those arms doing? Were they feeling for something, should they be holding something?

Today I rummaged around the studio and found a carved wooden cone that was given to me. It isn't a chillum, because it only has a hole at one end; maybe it's for burning incense? It seems to be made of sandalwood. In any case, I began to see it as a musical instrument, and decided this figure should be playing it. I also stabilized the legs with glue and new pegs, so now it's in pretty good shape. 

Over the years, I've gotten better at "fit and finish", making things that are more well-crafted and don't fall apart. I've needed to cultivate patience. I have to drill proper pilot holes so I don't split the wood, glue properly, finish the surface, saw carefully, sand the edges, and not break things.
 

 

 

The second piece uses the fish on a dish from two days ago! I think of the head as a wolf, but I'm not sure it's right for this piece, so that may change. It appears to be offering the fish, which is an image I've used frequently in past work (often it's someone holding out a child).

Am I avoiding working on the larger wall-hung pieces? In some ways they are much harder, because of the scale. It's also hard finding a place to store or hang them in the studio when they're done! But I fiddled a bit with the Mother piece, thinking that the round body I was using may not be working. This is just playing. I will have to keep at it tomorrow.  It might be holding a child.

March 2

 I think painters love the physical experience of moving a loaded brush across a surface. Maybe for all artists there are  sensory parts of their practice that excite and engage them. For me: I love screwing screws into wood with a power drill and I also love banging on things. It just feels great, and, in both cases, makes a cool noise. Right now, I'm into using a ball-peen hammer to texture and round the surface of metal disks (in this case, the tops of tin cans that I have removed with a special can opener gifted to me by a friend that keeps the outside edge intact so that you don't cut yourself on the top you've removed).

 

When I made some yesterday, I thought "A silver dish!", and that transported me to a song that one of the first people I met in Vermont, Sarah Webster, used to sing, Dance to Your Daddy: "You shall have a fishie on a silver dishie, you shall have a fishie when the boat comes in". Words, lyrics, cultural references always circle around when I'm working. And then I just had to make it!

 I spent quite some time today working on a piece that I have changed substantially since I started it. It was called Play Ball, and looked like this:

I decided to remove the catcher's mask and the circular body, then it went through a few other iterations, and here's the result of today's work, with its stone nose and drawer-pull lips.

 

 

 

And finally, a word about materials: I use wood that I find, often outside when I'm walking or jogging. I love wood that has been modified by other animals -- beavers, wood miners, or other people, like this wonderful piece with its gorgeous vermiculations:

 

 Today I cut it up into 7 sections and am beginning to make some small people. It's handy to have small people around in the studio. You can always find a use for them! They will get arms and legs at some point, probably, but they're also nice just standing still.

March 1

The last time I was in my studio at Studio Place Arts (SPA) in Barre, I finished making six flying insects for the next exhibit at SPA, on Flight. They're hanging in the studio, waiting for their moment.

I figured some of them would come back to me at the end of the exhibit, and I could incorporate them into a big, wall-hung figure of an insect, so I had begun working on a head with a proboscis made of a funnel and wire, and eyes of beaten can lids.

So much of making art, at least for me, is trial and error. You think you've got a great idea, and then you start making it and it doesn't feel right. The wooden face was too flat, and the eyes too garish. So today I worked on another way of putting it together, and that may still not be what I need. I will put it aside and revisit it.

Now I wanted to make a piece, even a quick one, that wouldn't remain a work in progress, but could stand on its own (a little joke...). I had a bull's head I'd recently made, and was wandering around looking for what to use for the body and yes! An old record box that used to look like this:

but now looks like this, as of today! I often reuse and repurpose things many times over (I removed that figure awhile back). The only way to make that recycling stop is for someone to buy it and take it away!

 And finally, I'm working on a large wall piece of a mother holding a baby. I seem to make these habitually. This one was in a recent exhibit at J. Langdon in Montpelier, bought and taken away, so I can't deconstruct it any more:

and this is the one I'm working on now (with the insect eyes re-purposed as breasts) laid out on a table, with the legs leaning up against it. It's very much in progress, but I think it will come together.

Cleaning the Studio and Getting Ready for CVRAN Marathon

 I'm going to be doing a project called  March Arts Marathon during the month of March, in which I make a commitment to make work every day of the month and share images with supporters. Here's the letter I sent out to potential supporters on February 2.  So far 25 wonderful folks have responded with donations that will help support refugees:

I am participating in a project of the Central Vermont Refugee Action Network (CVRAN) called the March Arts Marathon to raise funds for their Asylum Seekers Assistance Fund that pays for legal bonds, living expenses, and lawyers’ fees.

I am hoping you will go to my page on their site https://cvran.org/janet-van-fleet/ and donate to help this effort. My part of the bargain is to send all donors (who are supporting this effort through me) information about what I'm working on in my art practice in the month of March. During the pandemic, I have not been going to the studio as often as previously, but I will commit to doing something each day (even if it is art projects with my grandsons, with whom my husband and I are podded up). My aspiration is to send daily emails to those who sign on, with an image. But if I fall behind with reporting in to you, I will certainly post at least once a week on my blog at https://janetvanfleet.blogspot.com/ detailing what I've been up to, and send you a link.

I have an idea of making small booklets to be sent out to donors at the end of the month (with images of work I've done, kids' drawings, etc...), but we'll see if I get that together. No promises yet.

I hope you are healthy, happy, hopeful, and hankering to help refugees!

The studio was such a mess that I had to go in and spend over eight hours over the last week or so hoeing it out and organizing shelves and materials. Here's how it looks now. Whew! Let the artmaking begin!

 

Rolling On at Studio Place Arts

 

Studio Place Arts (SPA) has four great new shows in their galleries at 201 North Main Street in Barre, Vermont. In the Main Gallery on the first floor (newly painted with one gorgeous white wall), the exhibit is all about wheels, which has been a big part of my work in a variety of ways for the last ten years or so. I have four pieces in the show, the earliest (2007) being Feeding the World, from my series called Rolling Boil.

I made another series of four pieces that featured wheeled chairs in 2017, all of which were built on small chairs, had wheels, and bones. This is the second of those. It uses a modified doll carriage, and contains an antique slide of a naked man in a wheelchair, affixed to the top of a wooden box that acts as a sort of light table. A piece of white paper at the bottom of the box reflects light up through the image.

And finally, two pieces using cars from my current group of large, wall-hung figures, that I wrote about a few posts ago.

SPA is very careful with Covid precautions, so I hope folks will feel comfortable seeing the really wonderful exhibits that are there right now. Here's a flier to show what all the shows involve and information about gallery hours:

A Happy Conjunction of Writing and Visuals

 My friend Irene Zabytko has a new book of short stories coming out with the wonderful title The Days of Miracle and Wonder, and she has very cleverly put out a video "trailer" for the book. I love this idea of doing a mash-up of images, words, and music. Conjunction is not just for planets any more!

E book is available now, with hard copy coming within months. I can't wait to read it.

Ho Ho Ho

 

A friend bought a large standing figure from me over 20 years ago, and it has stood just inside her front door for many years. Every time I go to visit, it makes me happy to see it there.

She just sent me this image of the piece with a temporary adornment. So much fun!