FAUXBOT 1000

When I was a young girl, maybe 10 or 12 years old, I built a spaceship / club house in my parents side yard. Truthfully, it looked like a heap of boards stacked in some weird world cone shape. And though I don't remember much about how many people could fit inside or even if I ever climbed inside it myself, (it was about the size of a 4 foot tall porta-potty), it marked a great accomplishment for me. I built something! And I think it must have been a success as I came home from school one day and it was gone. Right now, as we go about our merry lives, that pile of boards and nails may be orbiting our planet or be on it's way to world's unknown. Of course the truth is more likely my Dad threw it on a burn pile and that was the last of it. Yet I like to think of it somewhere out in the universe - an unmanned ship - so I never asked too many questions.

Recently, my friend Julie, my son Barnaby and I stopped by a new restaurant / art gallery in Greenfield, Indiana. It's called Rock, Paper, Scissors. As I walked into the restaurant, in the corner stood a 7 foot tall robot sculpture made mostly of wood and what looked to be old stove parts. Immediately, I knew that I had to have one. A few days later I was at work and I happened to look out across the street to the parking lot and I saw a hunk of black plastic. I walked over and picked it up. At first I thought, "What if this is a bomb placed here by terrorists?" (That's just the way my brain works). It had "Ford" imprinted on the top of it so I figured that it had fell off someone's vehicle. I couldn't help but notice that it had 2 holes where eyes would be and well I kind of went from there. A week later I had made what I refer to as a FAUXBOT - it looks like a robot but doesn't really do anything. I figured it for a garden sculpting. It can hold a planter and has a bird house in it's back. Also, the roofing rubber that covers it's body makes a great chalk board message center. I like the idea of garden art make from junk. Maybe it's a way of keeping more debris out of landfills. FAUXBOTS of the world united to preserve the planet!

An overall view of my studio

I have been cleaning in my studio today. I've hesitated until now because it is a bit cool in there. Instead, I work in a smaller, heated, office type area in another part of the building. Over the winter my studio has become a catch all for everything in boxes and bags looking for a home. Now that spring is starting to show itself, things are warming up and I long to get in there and get cranking on some art! My studio is in a building that was once part of the Madison County Indiana School System. About 5 years ago, my husband bought the building and started a kitchen and bath cabinet company - Central Cabinet- and set me up as the sales force. Ha,ha. (He is the same guy who said that I couldn't sell my way out of a paper bag.)
I started this blog to showcase what is going on in my studio. I have every type of art supply that a person would possibly need to make anything. I am so blessed. Yet, lately, I feel like I am looking at my art through a thin veil. Recently, I started studying the art of Jean-Michel Basquiat. I envy the freedom that he brought to a canvas, whether it be on paper or the side of a building. Slam - bam -art I am! I want to loosen up and slam some art myself. I want to clear out the clutter in my life and brain and have nothing but room to fly into an art rage.
Also, right beside this building is a railroad track. It is so close to the building that it often looks like they are parking the train in the back of the building as it goes past. The nice thing about this is that I get to see the graffiti on trains as they come through. You might be amazed to see some of the things I have seen painted on rail cars. Once there was a person's screen printed image on the side of a train. It was gorgeous as it went past. So I decided that I will try to keep a camera on hand to document this travelling art show. I will also try to post a few on my site.
And I want to let everyone know that I am working to get a Flickr site established on my blog because I have lots of things to show you. It takes me a while to figure things out but I will keep at it. Right now I struggle with getting the photo images loaded to this blog. They will load but moving them into the right spot is another story.

It's a great country!

My husband says that I should post my political opinions on my blog. Perhaps he is right or perhaps that would just make me the object of someones unreasonable hate. One thing about opinions is that we all have one and most often they're free for the giving. There is an old saying that one should avoid the topics of religion and politics in polite company. And we do vote secret ballot so I'll save my political opinion for the ballot box. I'm saying all of that to say this. Last week, I was sitting at home listening to the local news and they mentioned that Senator Hillary Clinton was bringing her campaign to Indiana. OK, I expected that. Then they said that she would be coming to Anderson, Indiana and that sort of got my attention as I work in Anderson. Then my jaw dropped to my chest when they said she'd be at the old Anderson High School on Thursday. That school is right across the street from my studio! To me this was big!
I knew that a circus atmosphere would be the rule of the day and would provide gobs of blog fodder. So this installment is all about that big event. I walked around the school grounds several times during the day and just snapped pictures of the people and events. My plan was to wait on the parade route and snap a picture of Senator Clinton as she rode past. Here's the thing about the secret service, they do not attach flashing lights to the car with the political candidate inside. I was so excited when her vehicle passed that I didn't even realize that it was her. I got a picture of her automobile with it's window rolled down. She was ready to wave, I'll give her that but I missed her entirely. I guess my paparazzi potential is pretty low.
So I got in line to go inside the gym and get a picture. As I waited in line I heard several men talk about how bad things have become. As I was standing there listening to them grumble, a blond haired woman (beautifully coiffed) drove past in her beautiful vehicle, wearing gorgeous clothes and lovely jewelry. Suddenly, inside her most wonderful world, she made a fist and shook it at the crowd of people lined up along the street. It seemed so strange to me then she laughed and I did too. Aren't we silly?
Several minutes after she'd passed us, a man carrying two signs declaring that Senator Clinton had or had not signed some trade deal came walking past us ... the multitude. The grumbling guys in line behind me grumbled some more about his audacity. And after that a man carrying a Ron Paul sign walked up the railroad tracks. And all this struck me funny and I said out loud "It's a great country!" Upon which the guys in line behind me grumbled some more about how horrible things have become. I came away unconvinced. America is a great country and I am so thankful that God set me down in this land. Through all the politicking, signs waved, the anti-Bush van with all it's bumper stickers against the president, placards decrying the senator, a fist wielding blond, etc, no one was drug out into the street and beheaded. We can speak our minds and offer our free opinions and live to brag about it. If that isn't great in a world where people are thrown into prison for way less, then I don't know what great is.

Floating iceberg to Exile Island

It has been a wonderful week. I became a grandmother this week. I am so ready for the task of extending my wisdom to another generation beyond my own children. My granddaughter is beautiful. But in all the running around following the commotion of such an historic event, I forgot to call one of my dear sisters and let her know that the baby is here! So, OMG, when I did call her I found out that I had broke her heart. She knew that my daughter was in labor but she wanted a follow up and I let her down. I was sick at heart over this. I come from a big family and I know how fast news travels in that crowd. I figured someone would call her right away. They didn't. During our call, my sister told me that sometimes she feels like one of those contestants on Survivor who is sent to Exile Island. There she sits all alone. And I told her that I know the feeling. All my family, besides my husband and kids, live hundreds of miles from me in the Blue Ridge Mountains of North Carolina. Sometimes, when I find out that an elderly relative died years ago, or that the family is getting together for a big dinner, or that so and so's baby is walking and I didn't even know they had a baby, and I realize that no one bothered to inform me of any of this, I feel like I've been set out on an iceberg to float away on icy, Artic waters. There I sit all alone. On comparing our poor, pathetic states, we both laughed. The thing is, I feel bad about this because this particular sister has been like a twin to me. She knows my heart better than anyone in my family. And maybe that is how this fiasco happened. When you are close to someone, it is as if they can read your mind and know your thoughts at any given time. In some sense I kind of figured she'd know but I took her for granted and hurt her. This got me to thinking about love and my family. I have decided that my granddaughter's birth should be a symbol of new birth in my relationships with my family, not just with my children but my extended family as well. I want to know about my siblings and their hopes and dreams. I want to know about my nieces and nephews and their children. My granddaughter will only benefit by having strong ties to her family. I guess the whole thing comes back to my basic thoughts about love. Love is like a living creature. It needs nurishment, protection and expression to live. I want to make sure that whenever any of my loved ones has a feeling of being set out on an island or iceberg they have a rope of love to hold onto.

FROZEN IN PLACE

I came across this youtube moment and I love it! I think this event would fall under a guerilla art event. And I am proud of myself for being able to at least get the location of this thing posted to my blog. I am learning. Just click on this and enjoy!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jwMj3PJDxuo

The Hermitage

Phil and I just got back from a short trip to Nashville, Tennessee. We decided to go tour the Hermitage this past Thursday. It's the home of Andrew Jackson, 7th president of the United States. He and his wife Rachel had quite a set up there. They owned thousands of acres and numerous slaves to work those acres. The neat thing about the Hermitage is that they aren't trying to rewrite history and make believe that the slave thing is inconsequential. The Ladies Historical Society, the foundation in charge of all things Hermitage, is trying to show slave life along side the life of the Jacksons in an upstairs / downstairs sort of way.

Those of you who know me, know how I am always on the look out for a love story. The story of Andrew and Rachel Jackson was a love story that became a big scandal during his presidential campaign. She was a divorcee and through some kind of goof that the Jacksons were unaware of her divorce had not been finalized before they married. You can imagine how his political enemies used that against him. They got married again and Andrew Jackson went on to win the presidency. Well, Rachel Jackson died three days before they were to leave for Washington. At a time when he should have been overjoyed, Andrew Jackson left for Washington with a heavy heart. He did bring along family and friends to keep him company in the White House. Some time passed and then one day President Jackson read in the newspaper that his home in Tennessee had burned to the ground. He sent out a messenger to the Overseer with plans to start rebuilding the house and instructions that the beautiful mural type wallpaper that hung in the huge entrance hall be reordered and hung in the entrance hallway of the new house. Rachel loved that paper and he wanted it in the new house. That wallpaper is still hanging in the entrance hall at the Hermitage and seems to me to be a sort of tribute to their love and affection.

A Cold Day

So, as I was telling you, my sister declared herself on "Snow Watch!" and I declared myself on "Snow Watch!" and then I said "Let's keep a journal of our snow watching endeavor." And she said "OK!" And she just might but I have to tell you she is a hard working woman with little extra time. Nonetheless, I have started a snow journal. I felt like a fool cutting up all those grocery bags to make my journal but I love that type of paper and wanted the journal to look a bit funky. So far it does!

I wanted to feature a particular page in my snow journal here on my blog. I did this page as a tribute to our dog Charlie. Charlie died on January 10, 2008 at the ripe old age of 13. She and I had a love hate relationship. When she first came to be our dog, she could not be confined. She would climb or claw her way out of any situation. She killed cats in her youth and I wont even go into how often that broke my heart. Charlie was scared to death of storms and would tear the back door off our house to get inside. (She was an outside dog). One day during a storm she got into the house and climbed the stairs to the upstairs bedrooms. I have no idea where she was heading. You need to know that Charlie loved getting wet in the pond and creek near our house. She probably would have been a great hunting dog but we aren't into that so her gift was wasted. I came to love Charlie because she was always so interested in what I was doing. I could be planting flowers, or going to the mail box or going for a walk and Charlie was a part of it.Whenever I came home from work she was there to welcome me with that sweet look on her face. The morning that I opened the front door and found that she had died in her bed was the coldest morning of the winter regardless of the temperature. Charlie was a good dog.