MQ Starts Tomorrow!

Workshops start today, but I have to teach this afternoon and so won't take part. Looking forward to the vendor fair tomorrow morning! And on Saturday, Tea & Ephemera with Judy Coates Perez!

Confluence

Well, I might have overpaid a little for the SDA Confluence convention - I loved my workshop, but the vendor fair was so-so and I wasn't able to get away from work as often as I'd hoped; so there wasn't the opportunity to enjoy exhibit tours and concurrent sessions. But I LOVED my workshop. There's still time to run around and see the many exhibits associated with the convention as well, and I will, if I can. But the major part of my investment in the convention was the conference fee, and in retrospect I probably could have put that money to better use. SDA allowed separate workshop registration, and day passes; if I have the opportunity again, locally, I'll be more careful.

My workshop was with Jennifer Reis, who offered a basic primer on embroidery stitches and different types of embellishment for cloth. She was funny, clear and direct, a good teacher and a tolerant one. Her heavily-embellished artworks were the basis for classroom technniques, and not far removed from the techniques I'm using -- but I taught myself, and needed to see someone with more expertise demonstrate proper methods.

I'm not sure what I was expecting from the conference. Possibly a much bigger vendor fair -- no reason really to assume that, but maybe the effect would have been enhanced had there been exhibits I wanted to see under the same roof as the workshop. People (women really) who have been to conferences in the past told me that the traditional location in Kansas is a concentrated university campus, and all exhibits and activities are located close together. "Confluence" was based out of the Radisson University, at the U of MN's Minneapolis campus. The U is a dispersed campus: at least 50% of the land is located miles away in St. Paul, or across the river from the main campus on the East Bank. So there were shuttles and campus connector busses needed to get around, from my workshop (St. Paul) to the main site (Minneapolis), to the exhibits at participating galleries (West Bank and other venues in and around the downtown area.) Plus, the city decided at the last moment to start construction on the new rail line that runs right through the heart of campus -- closing a major thoroughfare. Consequently there were detours aplenty.

I scheduled too much activity at the office. I hope I can do better this week, once the MQ Show gets rolling. And, maybe, a bigger vendor fair to look forward to?

random updates

more from the japanese sketchbook - "pearls lie not"

another view

this has changed since the photo was taken - updates later. pieces were moved from page to page. 

Inside Out, Part 2

So after all the ranting over my disenfranchisement from the average interior, here's the kicker: I am in a position to have significant input into the interior design, furnishings and artistic commissions pertaining to a new worship space in the city. And I find this exciting!

The space itself is a renovated interior, and a damned complicated interior at that. It is an atrium constructed in the center of a mid-60's elementary school building. It has an off-center inverse-peak concrete ceiling, two lines of skylight windows set vertically above the roofline on the north and south sides, walls of  brick tile and concrete block, and a cement floor. It was for a long time subdivided for classroom space; we recently removed the interior walls and exposed quite a lot of added ductwork, sprinkler pipe and cabling. The acoustics are chaotic. The whole room is not two-storied; the central portion is, but about one-third of the square footage is actually beneath a one-story overhang.

The overall space is almost-symmetrical from every direction, but there is no perfect orientation. Since we will likely site the altar on the East wall, the asymmetry will only be noticeable if one looks up, given the off-center inverse roofline: picture an inverted triangle, one side slightly longer than the other, its peak pointing down at you. Its the Sword of Damocles, that roof! Though fortunately well above the casual sightline. We plan to suspend much of the lighting, which will be a trial for the installers but will "even out" the upper portion of the space in some degree. We may stick with hard flooring versus carpet, but will shim out the walls to soften the sound, soften the look, make space for wiring and audio, etc. We also plan to build simple walls and track lighting under the overhangs to create space for art to be shown there.

The design team is struggling a bit with the architect. Enough said about that.

Worship space. Suitable for varying congregations from four different faith backgrounds -- Lutheran, East-African Seventh Day Adventist, Hispanic Pentacostal, Black Charismatic. It's the Lutherans building the space, paying for it. We really do want everyone to be comfortable there, even inspired.

Sounds complicated, doesn't it?

Inside Out Part 1

Something I have known for a while -- years -- is again brought home to me: I don't engage with interior spaces. The vast majority of memorable places I have been, those I can recall, memories I cherish years later -- are outdoor places. Landscapes, parks, bridges, vacant lots, city streets, skyways (interior?), woodlands, etc. I don't easily visualize renovations to interior space -- paint changes, walls removed or added, windows widened, etc. I can't see these possibilities, with my mind's eye, or my body, the way I can see a woven wall-hanging in an atrium or a font in the sanctuary. I don't love interiors. I can admire them, and prefer some furnishings over others -- but the real aspects of interior are largely abstract to me, and I see this in my workplace now that I'm involved with the efforts of both architects and landscape engineers.

To be randomly specific -- I hate chairs. I have chronic pain in my lower back, and all chairs are of the devil. I sit in front of the computer typing, a large portion of each day, and this is likewise of the devil. All chairs are crap.

Work surfaces are crap. Though I like high tables, like library tables, and chairs (stools) that match. Someplace to put my feet. A clean surface to work on. Large. Everything else is crap.

Lamps are crap. Fluorescent lights in particular.

Give me natural light, big wide spaces with stone-like boundaries and comfortably natural textures. Give me the feeling that I am outside -- not with the bugs or the bright hot sun, necessarily, but outside and free to fly.

Give me a bike I can ride.

Martha Graham and the "Blessed Unrest"

No Artist Is Pleased"That seems like the kind of thoughts that lead to heavy drinking and permanent despair. Or maybe it’s just a matter of how you look at things. I read “No artist is pleased” and I start thinking words like failure, discouraged, dismayed. But I’m not sure that’s what Graham meant; or, maybe more important, I’m not sure that’s the way we should take it. We don’t live in a black-and-white world: saying you aren’t happy doesn’t logically mean that you are sad. There are many, many, many emotions on the spectrum to get a person from one end to the other. Graham goes on to call this a “blessed unrest.” -- a reporting from the Missouri Review.