Life Speeding Along

Shanna warping the Earth Loom in saturday's gusty downeast wind, preparing to weave in honor of Mabon with plants harvested from our land.

Last night I dreamt of a white horse running through a field. Every once in a while I would catch a glimpse of it's mane which looked like a Pegasus wing. The horse eventually came to me and I was able to pat it.

When I dream of animals, I refer to the book "Animal Speak" by Ted Andrews, to gain some insight into the dream's meaning. The horse represents freedom and journey, and judging by how fast this horse was running, I sense that some parts of my life might be moving very fast for me, faster than I might normally expect.

It is an odd juxtaposition, to on one level sense this speed, but on another level there are moments that feel so still and slow.

This past summer had me busy between building the new studio and organizing for Lubec Arts Alive. From these projects (which are both still in progress though transitioning toward an "end") I went back to my teaching job at school. At the same time, I have new projects forming in my mind and ideas about moving the arts forward for both our community and in my own personal studio and work as an artist. My mind never seems to rest.

Yet, in this one time-warp type moment yesterday, all things slowed to a perfect moment of stillness.

I had hustled around the house all morning in preparation for the Two Countries One Bay Artist Studio Tour. The final preparation was to warp the Earth Loom so that visitors could join me in weaving. At first, I was a bit discouraged. The air felt bitterly cold, and the wind was whipping wild. My hands were approaching numb and I still had many strings to measure, cut, and tie.

In this moment, listening to the rustle of tree limbs sway, leaves twirling and falling to the ground, I was in a meditative space with the rhythm of repetitive cutting and tying. I looked out over the field and toward the water, then the sky, watching the trees sway and grey clouds move quickly by with peeks of blue coming through. Instead of being the one always moving fast, I felt still and centered while nature moved fiercely around me.

Then, like a slow-motion movie scene, an osprey flew toward me, swooping down to perhaps only thirty feet from ground, then back up and over the barn, between an opening of trees, and off over the field.

It was a magical moment.

A freelance writer from a Canadian arts magazine interviewed me on Friday (I was one of many artists interviewed) and she asked a question about how the land inspires my work. Words can't fully express an entire philosophy and reverence for nature that I feel. But if I could have relayed to her that moment with the osprey, if she could have stepped inside my soul and felt that perfectly still yet whirling moment, I think she would have understood.

Full Circle

The big project this weekend was the cleaning of the barn loft. I hadn't looked up there in nearly eight years, and had never before actually walked up there. Eight years is plenty of time, apparently, to accumulate a lot of junk. We weeded through boxes, old painted house trim, chairs, easels, windows, rope, pipes, camp bed, squirrel nests, and rugs. The neatest find was an old box of artwork that I had made maybe twenty years ago. I had the realization that my artwork, though it has evolved and grown, has not necessarily changed all that much, rather, it has kind of come full circle. I found an old drawing that I did, nearly 20 years ago, of peace symbols and guns. Interesting, I thought, since my "Machine Series" the past few summers has been about War. Then I remembered that yep, I was heading in an activist direction from an early age. In a high school of nearly 1000 students, I was the only kid to join the group "Beyond War". So that was interesting, to revisit that part of me from the past.

The loft looks great - all cleared out. Chris and I are thinking that down the road we might be able to turn that space into a little reading/writing or some sort of creating nook. But for now, we have bigger remodel plans with the new studio/office addition that we are having built. Finally! An indoor studio space that can be used year round. It has been such a challenge these past few years to not have a winter space for clay. Especially frustrating since the passion and ideas don't stop flowing just because the winter months have arrived. If all goes as planned, we should begin building the end of July. Lots more updates on that project down the road.

We also moved the greenware pots out to the barn. Yey! I think we are in the clear of below freezing temps at this point (hope so anyway!) and the pots should be safe. So happy to have the pots out of the house and the kitchen table and floor back for their proper use (piling-up other junk and papers, of course!).

I have been busy writing for various projects. The big student art show is this Thursday at school, so that meant pulling together an art newsletter of sorts, kind of the year in review. Wow. We accomplished so much this past year in our arts program! I am trying to get things finalized for our field trip to the Farnsworth Art Museum in Rockland next week, and the following week, we have this super cool presentation by Figures of Speech, a Bunraku puppet theater performance of Nightingale.

Aside from all that (my head has been spinning the last couple weeks) I am applying for an MFA program, which requires lots of essay writing. Also, the Lubec art project planned for this summer is moving forward. I have been working closely with Maine artist Natasha Mayers to bring some great artists to our area to lead several site-specific art projects in a week-long arts event in August. I will add updates on that as we get closer to the date (and decide on the actual name to use in publicity!). I just had a group of super neat local artists and art lovers over last week to get things moving. It's a project that requires great passion and energy, and I know we will pull it off - and it will be grand! Now, crossing fingers that we get the grant.