March 2010

Oh my -- another year gone(+ 2 months)??

Yes!  And the first two months were exciting!

The First Puerto Vallarta International Sculpture Symposium was a success!  It ended February 13th with an exhibition at the Peter Gray Museum.  Jose Carlos Cabello Millan, our sculptor from Spain, was the first to have his piece acquired for the University of Guadalajara's permanent collection. By the end of February, four other sculptures were added to the museum collection including my own!  It's a great honor to have one of my pieces at the campus.

Carole Turner and I had a few days of solitude after all the artists left before we went our seperate ways.  Carole to Oregon and myself, to California.  No talking about the symposium for a month!!  Then we'll talk about 2011.



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July 2009 
in Marble Colorado!!  Fantastic Marble/marble symposium.  Working in the glorious mountains of Colorado beside the Crystal river was heaven. There's no place on earth I'd rather be.

I always feel a surge of electricity run through my body as I begin to pass the blocks of white marble along the road as I get closer to the town of Marble.  My blood races.  

The marble blocks and the smell of the crisp mountain air, were enough to make me forget for a moment that I'd lost my ATM card somewhere on the way from Boulder. It didn't matter anymore.

I finished a piece in time for Bev's show at the Redstone Art Center and blocked out a couple more for the road before my time was up.  The closing party was one I will never forget.  I lost my earrings and my flashlight but hey, I danced nearly every song and ended the evening with a full heart.

A full heart for the road will help me through the rest of this year.  Thanks Madeline & Kathi for making it possible, Scott for his wit and his funnel, Paulie for the zen of flatness,  Josh, Petro et. al for your help, and to Bob Seivers for saving me a killer carving space.  A special thank-you to Dan for loaning me $100 to get me back home. I love you stone souls!


April 2009: 

Since updating my website this winter, a lot has changed.  When it began to heat up in Mexico, instead of moving north to Colorado, I headed north west.  These days I am living in Santa Monica, California.  And like Puerto Vallarta, I am a short walk to the ocean.  What's even better is that my sons live nearby and we are able to see one another more often.  They are my finest works of art.

Going from the beaches and the streets of Mexico to the beaches and streets of California I remain the foreigner. The culture shock is palpable.  Knowing little about my new home, I have decided to jump in to the flow.  I hope I find a niche for myself here in L.A.  I am actively looking for a studio space.  Until then, I'm off to the beach with a log and wood chisels.    

Colorado remains a summer destination.  Once there, I hope to carve and commune with friends.  And- Europe keeps whispering,  I have my hands over my ears, but I can hear it calling.  There are people I would love to see. Who knows?  The question always is, will I stay someday?

Be sure to check the symposium pages for any updates.

Anyone wanting to barter time in my house/studio in Puerto Vallarta for theirs, please send me an email. I'd especially like to go to Europe!

Happy Spring!

Dana



January 2009: As another year passes and I continue to try to live the life of an artist, I am again astonished that I move forward despite the constant flux between being a confident creator and an insecure sensitive one.  There has never been any doubt that I am an artist, at least not within myself, but in the great scheme of life, the question remains, Why do I do this?


So many hours of labor, a sale, no sale, a show, a compliment, a criticism, money, attention, frustration and the ever-present gnawing of the imposition of real life, and still, I keep producing work and throwing it out into the world hoping someone will be moved. 

Why do I keep plugging away?  I am no Michelangelo, or Canova, no Brancusi or Moore.   I am but an infant in the sophisticated world of masters.  But I do-- exist.  And just like they did, I take a stone and make it into something from the depths of my being. And my voice is heard by at least some.


So--- just when I am sure I've made an error in choosing this convoluted road toward a nebulous goal of making a life that is true to myself, I am given the opportunity join my peers in the act of creation.  I drink in the energy that flows between us and enjoy the experience with a measure of attention.  They are my tribe, even if I have not met them before, even if I never see them again.

It's a strange trip I am on, and I intend to stay the course as long as I can remain as energized and relevant as I feel this moment. 

And to those who have seen my work and have sent me an email, or paid me a compliment, or brought one of my pieces into your life, I say thank-you.  It means something to me that you are moved.  It is t he morsel of sustenance I need when I have doubt. 

Until next time, happy carving. 
Live this moment as if it were
               the most important moment of your life. 
                    
I am.

                            ~ Dana

  
                                More Musings                   

     
   
The Penza International Sculpture Symposium 2008

     As one of two Americans invited by the city of Penza, in the Russian Federation , to participate in the Penza International Sculpture Symposium 2008, I traveled 5,000 miles and another reality away to carve with fifty-one other sculptors in an event that exceeded my expectations.

     Having been to several symposiums in the U.S. and abroad, I knew a variety of uncomfortable situations were possible.  I could have taken the bus ride from Moscow to
Penza as an indication of what was to be, but was too wowed by the reception that followed our arrival that first rainy day.  The Penza International turned out to be the Beijing of Symposiums.

     Billed as the largest sculpture symposium in the world, organizers overcame incredible logistical odds to present us with a first-class event.   We were welcomed with great respect and appreciation. Valentina Dusavitstaya and Yury Tkachenko created a smooth production, which included close cooperation with the city of Penza, the ministry of culture, the media, and the Hotel Chystie Prudi.  The sponsors ensured the success of the event by providing ample resources to make the event a spectacular exchange of art and culture.

     The accommodations were comfortable and the service impeccable.  Every meal was gourmet -no need to take out the emergency peanut butter or the hot sauce I thought I would need to sprinkle on my inedible Russian food.  Every evening we were entertained by local ethnic singers, dancers and musicians.  No night passed without dancing around tables past midnight, then lingering in small groups to talk, or sing, or just sip vodka.  Okay, so we had a lot of vodka too.

      Sleep came slowly at first, with so much to digest.  Here we were, fifty-two strangers with sculpture as the commonality between us.  This was not the Russia or the Iran, Egypt, Turkey or Bahrain I had been told to be wary of and I was not George Bush. We were people, not countries.  We came together to create work and cultural bonds, setting aside any political agendas and became instruments of peace and friendship in a world wracked by uncertainty. 

     Afterwards when we talked about the best and the worst of things like the weather, or  the quality of stone, about the length of the symposium as being too long or just "two days too short...," it seemed silly.  We survived the bus, the never-ending cold that spread among the participants, wet feet, no laundry, too much food... and still we were left with a positive experience.  We created fifty-two pieces of sculpture and added something to our lives.

     We sculptors live in an alternate universe when we travel to a symposium.  Our reality is created from the hearts of the participants.  This reality is much like I imagine heaven to be. We eat, sleep, and carve with a singular passion- dance, drink and laugh with abandon.  We are more ourselves here, than anywhere, anytime.   It is Brigadoon.

     But Brigadoon disappears and we all go home.   Each experience is different, and the synergy cannot be duplicated.  There will never be another Penza 2008 with just the right mix of people.  My expectations have been elevated by the experience and I await the next event with hopes that some of the same magic will be sprinkled in the dust.    


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