Author: susanbradfordart

What Do You Mean? (again)

by susanbradfordart, posted in Creative Process, Visual Art

This is the same painting I have been struggling with for so long.  The version on the left has now become the version on the right.  I am much happier with it now.  Almost ready to stop working on it and to move on.  I have a good feeling about it for the moment.  And it seems to be about comfort and safety, so even the meaning is feeling more resolved.  Working on it again and again has given me a degree of comfort, like being with an old friend.  I’ll actually miss greeting it in my studio if it’s really finished.

What’s Not to Love?

by susanbradfordart, posted in Basketry, Learning

I spent three days with this fabulous group of women over last weekend, weaving this fabulous Tahitian Market Basket out of a beautiful material called Lauhala.  We all came to Shaw Island, and not only did we weave together during the day, we all stayed over at the guest house of one of the women (the only one not in this picture).  So we cooked together, ate together, drank together, worked on the basket well into the night, and got up early to do it all again.

None of us finished the basket completely, so it will be interesting to see how they look once they are embellished with various trims, shells, etc.  But each one already has its own personality, and that will only develop more in the last stages of completing them.  Out teacher, Lei McCornack, is in the middle of the back row.  I have my arm around her in gratitude, love and admiration.  We are a strong and close-knit group of women, and Lei did a wonderful job of jumping in and teaching us this very challenging basket, in her laid back, very Tahitian way.

Challenging?  Make that very challenging.  Many steps along the way.  It’s a double-walled basket which means that you weave an inside and then start all over again to weave the bias-plaited  exterior.  And there is sewing involved.  And trim to be made by hand.  All using this sensual and amazing Lauhala to weave with.  You see it at its thickest on the exterior of the basket, but it can be stripped down to it’s thinnest and will fit through the eye of a needle to sew with.

As the work progressed, we all had our individual moments of challenge.  I hit my own wall at about 3 pm on Friday afternoon while working on the bias-plaiting.  I got incredibly frustrated, and cranky.  I wanted to just rip the basket apart and throw it away.  I wanted to scream.  I hated everybody in the room, and of course, I looked around and saw only perfection in their baskets, while mine was a pice of shit!  I told my dear friend, “Don’t talk to me!”  It was not pretty!  Not pretty at all.  But I went off and sat by myself.  I drank a lot of water, and started to breathe.  I looked at the basket with acceptance, and began to pull and tighten, and pull and tighten again.  Yes, there are some weak areas.  But I began to love the basket in spite of them and maybe even because of them.

And I got to have a quiet little melt down in the midst of one of loveliest, most supportive group of women you’ll ever hope to find.  I got to be real and vulnerable, and that alone was worth it all.  We all got to deepen our friendships with each other, and we all accomplished a Herculean task in making this incredible basket.

Perfect Mandalas

by susanbradfordart, posted in Mandala Art

 

These are called Romanesca Broccoli and I think that they are stupendously beautiful.  We started them from seed last summer, and in early August transplanted about 20 of them from pots into the ground.  We had such a cool summer that they didn’t really take off.  But summer was followed by a pretty mild winter, and look at them now!

They are perfectly wonderful mandalas.  They have a central focus, then spread out in a seemingly limitless fashion.  They hold the promise of the universe in the intensity of their color, the great variety of their surface, and the depth of their rounded form.  If we choose, we can read many meanings into them, and they can speak to our souls.

But most important, did I mention that they are utterly delicious?  Sauté them, or steam them.  Or prepare them in my favorite way.  Roast them with just a little olive oil and salt.  425 degrees, for twelve minutes (or thirteen).

Yummy!  Perfect!


Stillness (Winter)

by susanbradfordart, posted in Mandala Art

In early January, I decided that I would make a mandala for each of the four seasons, and that I would complete each one during the actual season it represents.

True to form,  I finished the one for Winter on the first day of Spring.  OK, so I was one day late, but I think that’s not bad.  And the weather cooperated with me totally.  Here on Orcas, it was a gray, cool day, with high, howling winds.  A perfect day to sit down with a hot cup of tea and, work in the small, tight way that these mandalas demand.  A perfect day to finish this project that I have been pondering, doing sketches for, and finally drawing for almost three months.

It was the kind of blustery day I have been longing for all winter.  We have had a pretty mild winter, with not enough of the drama that I look forward to so much.  No loss of electricity since Thanksgiving.  No cancelled plans.  No sense of that deep quiet that I count on for renewal.  No compelling reason to rest.

It has been a challenge to sit down and find that place of deep winter stillness within myself, and even more of a challenge to figure out what that “looks” like.  Isn’t the whole concept of stillness the absence of imagery?  How could I make something that is still and visually interesting at the same time?  Within that challenge, I got to a place of conditional peace.  Within my busy mind, I willed stillness to come to me.  I breathed it into my yearning heart.  I wanted this mandala to be dark and a little mysterious as I perceive winter to be.  But of course, I wanted it also to reflect the promise of light and warmth both inside and outside my true self.

Staying Inside the Lines

by susanbradfordart, posted in Mandala Art

We just had a wonderful three-day visit from Dennis’s son Ryan and our five-year-old granddaughter Leah. One of her favorite activities is to color, so I had bought her a mandala coloring book which turned out to be a really fun thing for us to do together. I had this realization that basically I have been coloring for four years, ever since I started drawing mandalas. What is strange is that I never really figured it out before.

Anyway, at one point, Leah said, “I like the way you color. All I know how to do is scribble.”

It was such an endearing thing to say, and I asked her if she would like to learn an easy way to help her stay within the lines and she said “yes.” I explained how she could use the black lines and first outline a shape in the desired color and after that begin to fill in the space. She tried it out and caught on really quickly, and I was so pleased that I had been able to teach her something.  She was very diligent about it for a while, but after a few minutes, she reverted to scribbling again.  I asked her why and she said, “I just like to scribble.”

That really made me think about how a child makes the transition from scribbling to being able to stay between the lines, and about what is gained and what is lost when that happens.  Leah knows.  Scribbling is fun.  It is free, wild, daring.  It isn’t afraid to go outside the lines.  It makes a bold statement.  I wonder why did we ever have to learn to stay inside the lines?  Who taught me?  When?  Why did I let it happen?  Is it too late to go back?

Pictured above is one of our best collaborations, with me trying to be looser, and Leah trying to stay inside the lines.