stephanie lee - Semiprecious Salvage

Spring Ebook Sale - Last day!

Wowza! Thanks for the incredible support of and response to my Spring ebook sale! I'm sending them out daily and hope that when you dive into the content, you'll feel a wind on your creative fire.(you can read more here and here).

Just a quick reminder that today is the last day of the sale. Feel free to drop me a line if you have any questions. Just in case you are wondering, these ebooks are hard copy disks with tons of instructional video and written content. They work on any computer and are yours to keep and view forever and ever and ever.

I walked out on the deck a few minutes ago, barefoot and robed, to watch the ponies walk to the bus. The birds are competing for air time. The air is fresh and damp. The pastures are weighted down by the juicy emerald velvet. Beautiful. Leaning against the rail, overlooking the garden spread below, I can't help but be excited about harvest time. I start my Master Food Preserver's program tomorrow and i can't even tell you how excited I am for that. Do I REALLY have a full day every week for the next two months that I can be out of the studio and not producing work for the Lake Oswego show? Not really. Have I been wanting to do the MFP for so long that I'm doing it anyway? Yep. I'm hoping the cookies I left for the muses keeps them around.

 

Studio Fruit Friday - Spring's Curtsey

I went to my favorite nursery yesterday afternoon to wander as slowly as possible among the plants. I needed something akin to a morphine drip so I went to have silent conversations with them where I compliment them on their cute sassy outfits, darling blue faces, fuzzy slippers. They wave their short little arms with wide palms, their long gangly ones with slender fingers, some just nod their sleepy heads. Nevertheless, it's good conversation. Some of my favorite kind.

I need a can-can line as tall as I am for the top of our retaining wall flower bed. I want a blooming row of dancers that I can prune up their skirts so their long legs show and up top, right at face level, they'll be putting on their best, blooming show. Wisteria has decadent, drippy blooms but is too root hoggish. Pyracantha is a too overused for my liking but the red berries in fall are quite lovely. The Crepe Myrtle, in just the right color, would be ohsolovely but I'm pretty sure the deer would think them a tasty treat. Lilac...not enough sun. I just learned about the Fragrant Tea Olive bush and am intrigued. The lady at the nursery suggested rhododendron...which could work beautifully if I could find a color I love. I'm not so much into sucker punching our land with bolts of hot pink. I'd prefer a deep salmon or orangey-cream. The nursery lady with poor bedside manor also suggested holly and then I had to remind her that they will be planted in a very high traffic area and no barefoot Lee likes holly needles stabbed in her foot. The "Annabelle" hydrangea would be my dream plant there but, again, the hungry (read: belligerent, greedy, destructive) deer. But oh how happy I would be if only the dogwood would work there.... sigh. When it comes to plants, my problem is never that I don't like enough options.

I wandered past a table of bonsai all posed freeze-frame style "Hold still! Maybe she won't see us!" but I saw them. And I complimented their holding still skills. Along the back row was a small forest of Black Jack fig trees. One followed me home. She'll share her tasty fruit this summer and it will be worth every square inch of garden she will inhabit.

So, by now it must be obvious that the growing season is on my mind. Spring is finally coming out from behind the curtain and has given us her first little tentative curtsy. There is a orchestra warming up in the pit tuning up with dogwood blooms and lilacs. Even holed up in the studio I am influenced and I find myself painting florals when I'm normally not a floral-y kinda gal. I don't resist the urge, as you can see. Afterall, who am I to argue with the song of nature? I just want to sing background, is all.

(click on the images to view them larger)

"Dogwood" 27" x 9" x 1.75"

plaster, acrylic, inscribed beeswax on wood
ready to hang horizontally or vertically
(unavailable)

 

"Why Not" 8" x 8" x 4"

plaster, acrylic, inscribed beeswax on wood
this deep box painting is ready to hang
$150
**Sold**

P.S. These paintings are not listed in my etsy shop. If you are interested in purchasing them, you can click directly on the buttons above.

thoughts on getting + staying organized

Though all corners of my home may or may not, at times, reflect this, the truth is that organizing is one of my favorite things. I remember organizing the corner cupboard with the wobbly lazy susan in the kitchen when I was a kid - small enough to crawl half way in there to pull out the pan lid or three that inevitably fell off the susan and into the back corner. Once mom affectionately called me her "organizer girl". I've owned it ever since. My sister was the "finder girl" (she could find any lost thing any where at any time.)

I'm doing a presentation to a big group of women this coming Saturday on organizing and I'm finding myself writing enough notes to write a book. All or nothing - I guess - is how i roll. They're not really about clever storage solutions, the latest labeling gadget (I have no clue), or chore charts. Mostly I'm interested in sharing the connection between a perpetual state of chaos in the home and how it is a symptom of a perpetual state of chaos in the head. Well, perpetual or temporary. Either way they are connected and I hope to present the idea to the women that our sense of value lies more in our freedom to move around in our own homes, our own lives, than in how much stuff we have to show for our attachment to sentimentality or status. It used to be that only shiny, expensive and new was the epitome of status but now even the most humble, well worn, and shabby collections are now taking their spot high in the ranks of enviable. Whether shiny or chippy, too much of anything leaves room for nothing.

As with everything, no matter how much you think you (I) know about something, there's always room to learn more. Life is about expanding. Always expanding and reaching beyond the border of what we think is all there is, beyond the border of what we think makes us so smart, beyond the border of thinking we have it all figured out. About all things. I love that about life and I hope I always keep that slight sense of not-knowing that keeps me open to seeing where I can learn more. Some people say that owning the not-knowing parts of yourself is cheating yourself of the knowing parts of yourself but I say it's not. Not at all. I say they're each holding an end of the jumprope and if one of them gets lazy or cocky or self-important, you're going to end up in a heap of bruises on the asphalt. 

But anyway, back to this organizing thing. I've been thumbing through a bunch of books on the subject and love the simple model of processing STUFF that David Allen presents here. It's so perfect for real stuff and head stuff (you could easily replace the word "stuff" in this model with "thoughts"). All that over collecting and over thinking clutters up the space you live in and clutters up the space where your best thoughts should be able to reside in peace. Problem is that half the time your unsupervised, unsorted, and unexamined thoughts are throwing a big pool party and a bunch of thug-thoughts show up and muck up the pool. Time to call the authorities and clean the joint up.

Since most of you won't be there Saturday :) I'm extending the invitation to you now to take inventory one drawer, one closet, one defensive-of-my-collections thought at a time and see if there is anything there that, if cleared from your space, would make room for something you'd rather have - like fresh air, breathing space, or room to hang a mirror so you can get to know yourself a little better.

I'd love to hear what you come up with...

 

Studio Fruit Friday

It's sunny. And warm!! The garden is calling me....but today's post has been delayed long enough.

Today is the first week of my Friday sharing of the fruits of my studio labor. I've listed two paintings in my etsy shop that will remain there until I list two new paintings next Friday at which time the previous week's paintings will be unavailable. I'll continue until I leave for the Lake Oswego Art Fair at the end of June. I plan to introduce prints soon as well and will let you know when I have that all ironed out.

**UPDATE: Both of today's listed paintings are sold. Thank you!**

 

"Alive in Repose" 5" x 5" x 1 3/4"

"Patience" 14" x 11.5" x 1 3/4"

 

Also, to combine what I have to offer the world + creativity in the practical aspect of keeping all the ends meeting up here, I'm re-offering the (nearly) half price sale on my metalsmithing ebooks through the end of the month. You can find out more about them here and here.

.....zipping off to breathe in some sunshine. A beautiful weekend to you all.....

it's not like I try to fight her

 

((the free range critters like to pal around))

Join me, won't you, for a moment of quiet reflection as we here at the Lee house take a deep breath now that equestrian season is finally over. It will be just a short moment, however, as softball season is still in full swing and I have also been given the corner office in the building of "world's most opressive mothers". I don't remember even applying for that position but apparently I've climbed to the top of the ladder in very short order. I'm meeting with lawyers to see how I can un-hire myself without totally putting myself out of work. Let me know if you have any good ideas.

 

Last week we had company. I always love cooking for a crew. Dad was one of the company and, never being one to drive 1000 miles without his toolbelt, spent a few days in the garage building me a heap of substrates for me to get all messy with plaster and paint on. See him there working?
I've been meaning to tell you...I made it into a fancy pants art show that happens at the end of June. The Lake Oswego Arts Festival outside of Portland. I'm nervous and excited at the same time. It will be good to make art just for the sake of making art (well, and to sell) without the added adventure of packing every last pair of scissors and q-tip I own to teach. I love teaching. And I love making art. It's nice to see where sometimes, for me, they can be independent of each other.

So I'll be pretty focused on getting ready for that. I oughtta be out in the garage full time at least. We'll see how it all goes. Oh, did I mention? We've done a bit of work out there and the garage is now my painting studio. Theman still has room for his workbenches along a long wall and space for storing his RC airplanes (big suckers, they are!) but I have the bulk of it with a big table and wall space to work big on. I painted out the table top white so's the wood of the table doesn't jack with my color use on my paintings (I'm kinda sensitive to that, I've noticed). I'm totally stoked. Me and my long arms and my big ideas and my bottled up emotions need room to stretch into painting big. Either that or I'll need to get some expensive therapy.

The garden is waking up. Earth is waking up. She invites me to lie down on her sofa and tell her how I've been feeling. I oblige and thank her for the tight, unfurling new rubarb leaves because I recognize myself in them. I thank her for the greens gone to bold, yellow seed, for the Ken't Oregano so plain right now, but promising a flamboyant weeping display of lavender in the summer because I recognize myself in those as well.

I thank her for the ambrosial peach blossoms - so early, so bold.

I thank her for the poppies sprouting up in the middle of a rocky wilderness, for the Hostas stabbing their determined spines up through the soggy soil.

I thank her for the way the water drops sit perked up on the leaves of the Lady's Mantle (I've always loved this most about this wispy cloud-blooming plant...the flowers take a second fiddle to the way the furry leaves hold water). I thank her for the spicy arugula still producing heavy since late last summer.
I thank her for all these things because somehow each one tells me a little bit more about myself. Even when I'm trying to be cynical and self-pitying...but it's not like I try to fight her. (Just like it's not like I try to fight the ponies...) She is one of my best teachers and I go to her when I need to find myself. Her and what made her.

So, if you need me for anything I'll be out in my new painting studio. I'll most likely have the big door rolled open and music blasting so it shouldn't be too hard to find me. If you know of anyone that needs a good great carpenter, theman is on the prowl for some work. I'll be posting two paintings every Friday for sale between now and my show to do my part as well as I can. I'll need to work hard at building up my supply though, so each batch will be up for one week and one week only after which time I will pull them and list two more. Prints may be on their way to the shop as well if I can work it all out.This coming Friday will be the first batch. Stay tuned!

I think a competitive game of kickball or a two mile run or a dance party is in order. Screw this tennis elbow...my body needs to MOVE!

 

 

Artfest Reflections

I arrived home from Artfest on Sunday, April 1st and intended to post all about it the next day. Monday found me in a total, exhausted fog - much more so than I had anticipated and so my post was bumped to Tuesday. Between trying to get rested up (still trying) and having company come for this week, here it is ten days later and I'm finally getting around to it.

It's probably just as well I didn't report right away. I was holding a handful of sand where each grain was a memory I didn't want to let slip through my fingers. I would have tried to tell you about all of them (and I'm trying to outgrow my reputation and someone who talks too much.) What's left of the sand after sliding back into normal life is mostly just that expanding sense of thankfulness that I feel for all that Artfest and it's people have been for me over the years. It has been the fertile soil, the garden itself, and a bountious harvest all at the same time. Even now, there are seeds awakening that will mature into more rich and soulfull, art-centered gatherings. Mark my words.

My two classes were awesome - the students were amazing. Not only did they create brilliant and rich work, they were also light hearted and playful. Judy helped me on the second day - a day with 32 students - and the amazing energy was strong there as well. So much openess. So much willingness to get dirty and experiment. You students...man...in this very moment I want to thank you for your energy which is just such an insufficient expression of how I feel towards those who join me so enthusiastically. You teach me so much about how fun art making is supposed to be. So, thank you.

And thank you to my housemates. My darling, kind, encouraging, funny, playful, soulfull, housemates. I love you all.

So today, in my retelling of my Artfest 2012 experience, I will share pictures. I have more than I usually remember to take this time around. For me the Artfest experience is as much about getting there and back (8-10 hour drive each way depending on traffic) as it is being there. On the way up, my mind is full of anticipation for all that awaits. On the drive home, the experience settles in my soul as it finds it's way in to some sacred fold where it can remain safe there when normal life becomes my all again. That normal life greets me at the door without so much as a sneeze-worth of time allotted for my recovery unless I insist on it. I'm there now - in that space of wanting to keep resting up and wanting to step fully back in to my hours here at home. The tether to life itself keeps me from being gone too long. I'm back to pony wrangling as usual. Every once in a while I have to spray them off with a hose full of strong, cold water to get their attention so's I can get a word in edgewise. You fellow brood mares know how it is.

On my way home a rainbow painted itself for me. I'm pretty sure it arched clear to Port Townsend where we all left a little piece of our colorful selves for safe keeping.

 

 

"The Pulse of Mixed Media" by Seth Apter

Heads up, guys. A new book is in town and it's one of the best books on the relationship of the artist and his/her work I've put my hands on in a good long while. When Seth asked if I'd be willing to join him on the blog book tour, I was more than happy to say yes. I've worked with Seth a tiny bit and love his energy and the way he so generously shares the work and thoughts of others on his blog. Nary a wiff of pretention will you sniff there.

In his first (amazing) book, "The Pulse of Mixed Media: Secrets and Passions of 100 Artists Revealed" he has curated a beautifully diverse group of artist not only in the mediums they work in, but also in age, gender, life experiences, and aesthetics. The book is full of juicy artwork and equally as thirst-quenching q&a's by the artists. The questions Seth asked the artists are extremely relevant especially today with the added complication that a public persona through the internet can be as an artist. I especially love pages 122-123. The question Seth presents there is "Is creativity built-in, learned, or both?" The answers are all so perfectly penned. (I was going to share a favorite but they are all amazing for different reasons.)

On page 134 he asks "What do you think your preferred art medium says about your personality?" I got to thinking about all the studio messes I make in pursuit of a finished piece of work and the metaphors came flooding into my mind. Both metal and plaster smithing - my mediums - are not clean and tidy. They are earthy, grounded, raw. They require slowness and conscious connection with time. I can't just push something into being done in a hurry. I have to wait for the right heat or for something to dry (heat guns don't do much to rush plaster like they do paint). While i'm in that slow time of waiting, I get this slow whirlwind of energy going on around my body. I have to pace my thinking so that there is a balance between the ideas that are coming (or not coming) and the readiness of the medium. I have to connect with the thoughts about myself that come alive during that waiting time and the slowness of it all allows me to work through so much in my mind while I'm just sitting in a chair. It's a trip. My mediums are like me - earthy, grounded, raw. I'm willing to go through a whole heap of mess  to get to the truth of what I want to create. I'm like that about me too.

The questions Seth presents to the contributing artists are so centering in that they slide right in to the heart of what it means to be an artist and the aspects of life and identity that we have the experience of juggling more in the forefront than our non-artist counterparts. I love that so many perspectives are shared and yet there is the commonality of authenticity in each and every answer. I adore many of the artists in the book and am delighted to be introduced to new-to-me ones. Seeing the faces of dear friends among the pages as well is pretty dang cool too.

You'll be hearing a lot about this book in the coming weeks. Lots of people are happy to share this labor of love with the creative community. If you want to make a few more stops on the tour, bring a snack and wear some comfy walking shoes. It's like Disneyland...without lines and expensive junk. This book is the real adventureland. :)

Tour Stops:

April  2  Rice Freeman-Zachery  
April  3  Stephanie Lee              
April  4  Ali Edwards                  
April  5  Ro Bruhn                     
April  6  Roben-Marie Smith       
April  7  Nancy Lefko               
April  8  Kelly Kilmer                 
April  9  Trudi Sissons              
April 10 Melody Nunez             
April 11 Dina Wakley                 
April 12 Stephanie Hilvitz         

P.S. I just returned home from Artfest late last night after a long drive home and I have so much to pick through - all the tender parts, all the silly parts, all the bittersweet parts, all the parts that are still trying to fit somewhere. From the sorting I'll share with you what I can put into words in the next day or two.