In the garden Autumn is a season of removing, of taking away. On the farm, it is a time of harvest; for the gardener, it means a cutting back so flowering plants can consolidate and renew themselves through the colder season. For the farmer, it means gathering up the produce and grain, so they can be used to nourish.
It seems most appropriate then that this month I brought to conclusion my time as a teacher, ending 25+ years in a formal classroom, teaching levels from pre-K through college (So amusing to have been called ‘Professor’) followed by 25+ years giving workshops, teaching in the studio and in varieties of informal spaces and leading arts organizations. My hope is that this new phase will produce both a harvest of renewed creative energy, even as I now give consolidated focus to what my mind and hands do directly with the the clay, to the sculpture I create.
My studio practice is now all.
While I found all that has gone before exciting and so very appealing…I loved engaging with ‘human clay’ as much as the earthy stuff…I do look forward to this new moment with great eagerness.
Earthsongs lives in the midst of a ‘handkerchief garden,’ a small plot, front back and side, that Nino and I tend with great care. So, I understand the season from the gardeners’ point of view: all quiet, just the structure, the ‘good bones’ of the space making themselves known, as well as all the physical labor it takes to bring it to this point of quiet.
With my Dad hailing from a farm in the Heartland, I claim something of the farmer in my genes as well. And so I look at this time as one that will produce a ‘harvest of fruition,’ a time that will allow me to create in new and exciting ways, that will be nourishment to not only myself, but all who will encounter my work.
With Junebug behind us, life at the studio settles into the gentler rhythm of the summer months. While quite counter-intuitive, I do not offer any classes or workshops, but I reserve the summer for developing new work for autumn and Holiday sales and as a time for recouping and renewing.
Creative activity necessitates a degree of solitude and quiet interiority, and though visitors are always warmly welcome, the whole property becomes a quiet hub of creativity, with new ideas growing: Michelle developing work from earlier molds, Nino doing an amazing re-design this summer of our kitchen, and I developing designs for new commissions and other projects.
As I worked in that environment, I began to reflect on the effect other local artists continue to have on my art, both through their work and their personalities. Full-time professional artists are an interesting lot, and one of the benefits of living in Metuchen has been to get to know a number of them.
All of these are people with BRIGHT SPIRITS! Yes, they have a care and fierce dedication to their art that often calls them to spend lots of time alone in their studios; and still they delight in the creative process. This summer, I realized how much their viewpoints, their “eyes” have helped inform my own way of looking.
But even more, their attitudes continue to be a source of inspiration. The generosity of these artists…each and every one…continues to be a great encouragement to me.
These are people who by their very life and work create an environment of community. I have found them ever willing to assist, share ideas, help solve technical problems, generally lend a hand. They willingly share equipment and enthusiasm.
From David Glasofer, owner/artist/photographer of Image Up Studio, to the married artist teams of Kim and Danny Adlerman and Janice Fried and Bruce Donnola, to the photographers Judy Weinberg, Mark Harris, and Michael Martin, and Kyo and Jana Morishima; the sculptors and art educators Duffy Dillinger and Roy Chambers, Lauren Rabinowitz, our local web guru and, of course, my sister artisan Amy Brooks.
The summer song the Earth sings at the studio is one of awareness and gratitude for all those people; all those creative connections that help keep my own creativity flowing…