Sugar bombs for the H-bomb!

We made eclairs this past weekend for Heather's birthday. Well, Bruce made them and I filled and tested them. The one in the middle is shaped like an H for the birthday girl! They were totally fab.

Dead Horse Racing?

I was interrupted from my work by a knock on my door. When I opened it, a man said to me, "Yeah, we're from the Dead Horse Preservation Society. We're here to pick up your Hillary sign."

With a handful of delegates making the difference, and as complicated as the delegates are to count and each camp weighing them in their own favor, I am watching the nominating process carefully to its end. The media makes sloppy evaluations, picking their race horse out of the gates and hastily throwing down bets. And the spin goes on and on. Historically, their predictions are off, but they continue guessing and speculating. Leaning. Oy. I research the characters, issues and numbers myself and wow it has been very close. How refreshing is that?

I am pleased that the nominations have been competitive thus far and with inspiring candidates. Obama is a natural politician and Clinton is more academic and wonky. I love it. Both are practicing the art of politics very well and are great leaders. I still see the glass ceiling very much in place but Hillary is giving it one hell of a kick. Time will tell how much of a break she made, I guess. L.C. says to me, "Hillary is one bad-ass chick." Damn skippy!

I cast my vote in an absentee ballot this week.  And I'll keep my sign up to the end, thanks.

Pooh-pooh the Institution

I missed a spontaneous reunion in Chicago recently with these three really great artists. They are each creatively very brave and strong. Thanks to them, we laughed a lot in the face of plenty of wacky art-school maelstrom. In spite of myself, I also learned some things.  Then, right out of school, they delivered me to the West - literally and figuratively. As happy as I am about that, getting this photo made me miss Chicago and them.  

Spring Sale!

I'm cleaning out the basement, the garage, the studio loft, the office and the closet (yes, I have only one closet). Goodwill will become a regular summer stop and for a while it will strictly be to drop off!

Included in this current purge of mine are sculptures that I don't intend to exhibit again and don't want to store. I am planning on having an art sale later in the summer with more, especially heavier and bigger items, but to start, now I am selling pieces out of the Ramble Snag installation (more photos on my art site).

This series represents very well most of the important themes in my work: the bouncing, fleeting moment that is endlessly rearranged and in flux.  For me, personally, in the studio, these pieces have been very satisfying to make.  I become absorbed into their minutia, the endless variation in bends and gaps and the gentle tension on my fingertips while maneuvering little bits of wool into felt.  I never lose interest in these pieces.

The photos above show them hanging in my dining room.  They can go anywhere and in whatever arrangement inspires you - in groups on walls and the ceiling, on a shelf or in a drawer, individually placed over a night light - you get to decide. (I'm willing to help, if you want, of course.)  Maybe you have an entry way or stairway that needs spiffing? There are oodles of these - much more than what you see on this wall. I have several boxes, so ideally they will sell in groups.  If you are interested, email me for prices or to arrange a time to see them in person.

Halves

Yesterday morning I picked up coffee and pastry on my way to an appointment. After I parked, I looked down at my jacket and lap to find that coffee had been dripping out the to-go lid. I twisted the lid so that the seam of the cup wasn't at the spout, I pushed the lid on 'tighter' and tested with a sip, this time catching a drip in my hand. I examined the lid and cup considering their materials and design. I thought of my dad and his many inventions for just these kinds of situations; never the major scientific discovery, just some simple styrofoam and masking tape shim or jig to fit the moment and solve the problem. Sitting there alone in my car I pictured my father, smiling, deeply satisfied with making something better. I twisted the lid on my cup and re-tested. Coffee dribbled down my chin, hit my jacket, and made a final splash on my jeans. I giggled and took the lid off. And drank. I enjoyed the steam on my nose. I gobbled my tasty scone. And, I contemplated the half full/half empty deal.

My father has always pushed the mind-over-body philosophy. He is hardly a Pollyanna, but he recognizes the need to refrain from feeding off his emotions, even if he catches himself after slamming the door. He is also a consummate problem solver, always looking to make things better. And to do that, you have to be able to see the flaws. And prioritize them. Make a list, start at the top of the list and don't go on to the second item until you finish the first. This is the secret to success he says. Choosing what to fix and how long to spend on it. My own mind gets in the way of this system. I continually re-prioritize my list.  I get attached to line items and hang onto them longer than might be most efficient. And I have half a dozen major lists going at all times instead of one. 

My mother's view feels harder for me to evaluate. On one hand, she seems to find a lot of satisfaction in her own daily life.  She appreciates the mundane and recounts precious details of a day as if seeing the sun rise is for the first time or unexpected. The frustration that I hear most is that she feels like doing more, learning more, trying new things, tasting more exotic foods, seeing new places. The biggest one of these is to learn to play the piano. Her want to do things is not out of regret or dissatisfaction but out of a hunger for more discovery and refinement. If you mention a trip, her bags are already packed. She has been this way all of my life. She likes to be on the go. And now in her 70s, she continues to go more than anyone I have ever seen. If only within a 20 mile radius, she is busy. She is the first one up and last one down. Like water tumbling a rock, with edges smoothed, she lasts. No matter what. Moreover, her compassion runs deep. Her family is one story of pain after another and even so, they cut up and laugh most. Still, everyone delivers their pain to her. All of us. Even strangers. Perhaps because she is the oldest and quietest. But she never turns it away. She accepts her role as a healer. To me, these are bigger and harder problems to solve than a coffee cup. There is nothing passive about this process. But she never tells you what to do. And after letting most or some of the pain out, you remember that you can breathe on your own. But after saying all of this, I think the most powerful key into Mom are the surprises. She is not hip or savvy, but where it counts she is open. Countless times, I have heard her whistling a peppy tune in the kitchen, and I turn the corner to catch her in the middle of a dance move. This old woman seems so young to me.

These are my models of halves, fulls, divisions, corresponding parts, equals, and degrees of measure. I am very close to my parents. I admire how close they are to one another. I respect their individuality. I look to them to understand my own struggles. I want to follow their intuitive lead to move ever forward. What is my balance?  Right now, I am tasting the continuum. I don't want to be defined by the damn cup. But I'll drink from it. And eventually, I'll need refills. 

Introducing Dot

This is my first animated character, Dot.  You can't hear, but in this draft, she sings from inside a box.

I heart Hillary

The election process hits my home state of Indiana today. Recently, I was asked how I thought the vote would go for the democrat nominee there. Ai ai ai.  I haven't lived there for so many years, and the friends and family that I have there are too few to gauge anything across that very Republican state. But, of course, I do have an opinion...   

I heart Hillary. 

I want to see healthcare revolutionized.  I feel it is the one arena that this country must make a profound change. Quickly. Hillary is the person to make that happen.  She has been the visionary on this issue and put it on the political map. She knows it, inside and out. Her solutions, from what I have read, are more aggressive on this change than anyone else's. I believe that with tackling this single complex issue, the country's other systems of care will also improve.  

I have never understood anti-Hillary sentiment. To me, there is nothing to hate about her. Hillary Clinton is a very intelligent, capable person that is dedicated to a life of public service. She is also witty. Her humor is smart and ironic. (See her as guest on Jon Stewart and SNL.) And whether she is up or down, she is working just the same. To reject her severely and emotionally seems to be less about the facts and reveals more to me about the hater than Hillary. 

And what about Obama?  I enjoy Obama's speeches and think his campaign is good for the Democrats and even more for the rest of the country.  His record, however brief, shows me what I would expect from a Democrat. I admire his excellent marketing campaign and twenty-somethings all over the country clicking "Donate Now" on his website. His intense celebrity-ism is impressive. Still, I have yet to see significant authorship of content from him, which I feel is important in a leader, more important to me than the ability to sell it. And the media has started to turn on him, as they do with every celebrity. Once the romance wears off, the shiny penny is just a penny and you are still left with a load of work. We have yet to see how that will play out. But all that said, Obama is good. I like him, too.

I see the country as united in its desire for change, which both Democrat candidates offer. The question is how you get there. The greatest contrast between the candidates is leadership style.  Clinton's is very hands-on and Obama's is hands-off. Both methods work, in my experience. The first usually works faster, gets more done on a larger scale in an emergency (like now) and is more certain. I don't think Obama is up for the task of doing a clean-up like Clinton is. Not yet, anyway.

Another point to consider is their different styles of politics. We have a longer history to evaluate (and pick at) with Clinton than Obama, but it all washes out as politics in the end. Both candidates are practicing the art of politics and both are getting their hands dirty. Politics are human. The evaluating, communicating, negotiating, leveraging, and compromising are all part of the human paradigm. Taken into the public sphere, it defines civilization. Both of these candidates are skilled in this art. I am thrilled that our election process is engaging and raising high-concept conversation on election topics but moreover, on underlying cultural baggage like sexism, agism, and racism.   

I want Clinton to be the candidate now and Obama to be next. Sometimes, I fantasize about them working together. I know I won't get what I want but I will say so just the same. 

I wear my Hillary t-shirt and I get a lot of compliments. Mostly from young women but also a few middle-aged men.  I have had one heckler who was more funny than anything.  My friend, Lisa is in Indy.  Here is a photo of her with her son at a Hillary rally.  Another photo is of my friend Angie with Hillary (and another woman from Missoula between them) when she came to town.           

Road Trip (Memory Jog)

We didn't go far.  We went without a plan.  And we went in circles a few times.  But we went.  

And when we needed information - like which hotel to pick - we just went war-driving with the laptop.  Very 21st century.

Gifted

I received lots of attention and warmth on my Birthday. I love when my house is filled with flowers and friends. A couple of lovely traditions continued this year. First, I celebrated the night before my birthday with girlfriends. Angie, Heather and Marianne joined me for wine and cheese which culminated in obnoxious and profane activities on the front porch,wrapped in blankets until wee hours.

The next morning, I talked to Mabel for at least an hour. We talked of life, love, emotional wisdom and growth. Her patience and grace have blown me over all of my life. I feel lucky when I realize that my parents are my heroes. I am not even embarrassed by the sentimentality of it, because it is so raw and plainly true.

Then, Stephanie and Dyna lavished me with a picnic lunch at my house. This year was chilly, so we kept the picnic indoors, but enjoyed it all the same with laugh-till-you-cry stories and good food (cupcake desserts made a highlight). Angie, Kay and Bruce made surprise appearances and the afternoon filled even more. Bruce continued his "Happy Birthday, Toni" flip book series and outdid himself again.

Then last night, we joined Pat and Jeff for dinner, then a 'concert in the rubble.' Tickets for Swell Season had sold out, so we set up lawn chairs and lanterns in Pat and Jeff's condominium that is the floor above the theater. We eavesdropped the performance and imagined the creative possibilities for their pending renovation. (Decadent mini chocolate cakes topped with truffles highlighted the ambient concert.)  Before going to sleep, I listened to a voicemail message of my parents singing Happy Birthday to me, taking turns, sharing verses and giggling.

I am thankful for all of my presents, temporal and divine. I'm grateful to be surrounded with creativity.I'm sharing with you Kay's first video and birthday gift to me. It is about feeding the ferul rabbit that was born and has survived in my yard for three years. His name is Slurpy. Slurpy Alberto.

Click the "Silly Rabbit" link under Reference sites to see it.