IMG_1817 Have you ever planned a big trip?  I mean, A Really Big Trip?  Let’s say, to Ghana or Nepal or Australia  You spend months reading articles, asking friends what they know about traveling in the country you’re visiting, checking on weather conditions for the time you will be there, buying clothes, getting your passport updated, learning how to say please and thank you in a different language.  Your energy and attention are focused on The Really Big Trip.  But then, one day, you get on the airplane and after the passing of a relatively short period of time, you are there.  Your attention shifts from getting there to being there.

The studio project has been like that but I had not gotten on the plane.  IMG_1818There has been no division between getting there and being there.  Once I realized that, I said, “Enough, already.  Get on with it.”  So now I am beginning to create new work patterns and to settle in.  I hereby promise not to talk of The Studio, as if it were the only thing in my creative life.  I’m moving on to other things.  It’s time to use the beautiful space that has been created by Lynn Merrifield, the fantastic builder who made it happen.  Seatback in the upright position, tray table up, ready for takeoff.



Downstairs in the studio

What’s new?  New year.  New blog format.  New studio.

Taking them in order, let’s consider the new year.  I must say that I am a sucker for it.  Not the wild party, stay up until midnight, watch the ball drop kind.  And I don’t make resolutions anymore because I am forced  to look at my shortcomings and then to feel worse because I can’t stick to the resolutions to remedy them.  But there is a time of reflection and anticipation in early January that is a good calibration point.  Obviously we could decide to lose weight, put more money aside for retirement, join a drawing group, and all of the other things that we should do, at any time.  There is nothing magical about January 1.  But most days fly by without the time or inclination to assess and resolve.  Gratitude seems to have been the consistent theme in the ruminations this year.

New blog format.  As with most things internet related, I don’t really know quite what I’m doing with WordPress.  It is a very powerful tool for creating attractive online content and I enjoy using it but I can only do a few things.  Every once in a while I try something new and it either works or it doesn’t.  In the spirit of the new year (see paragraph 1), I assessed my blog and thought it to be OK but resolved to try something different.  After noodling around a bit among the many templates they provide, I clicked on one and managed to “publish” it without actually previewing it.  It seems to be OK so we’ll stick with it for awhile.

And…drumroll, please…new studio.  It is now functional.  There is much to move back in, after having provided places for storage and access but what I need right now is here.  From now on, no more complaints, announcements or updates about the studio.  Now that’s a resolution that you can count on.

IMG_1707OK, physician life doesn’t always allow that, but the single iron is my default setting.  A couple of months ago, I wrote about leaving my previous studio and beginning the building of a new space in our garage.  My focus has been on that process and I have set aside other responsibilities, such as writing blog posts.  You may (or may not) have noticed.


Ready for guests

This project has been much more time-consuming and complex than I had thought it would be.  (Isn’t that always the way?)  It has also been exhilarating, frustrating, immensely creative and budget-bending expensive.  We’re nearing completion of the construction phase and are now deciding what goes where, planning to work over the winter before making final decisions for storage and built-ins.  I am so ready to get back to work.

These images are of the upstairs part of the studio.  The downstairs will have walls this week and should be ready for venting the kiln next week.  I’ll be posting images of the downstairs space, the clay space, as it progresses.  And with any luck, I’ll be changing irons in the fire, from construction to creation, sometime very soon.

treat as I left for the last time.

I wonder how many endings we miss in our lives.  I read an article years ago written by a man who, in his youth, thought it would be a great idea to use excavation equipment as furniture.  He would have a large loft space and use the bucket of a front loader as a couch, the backhoe as a chair.  I imagined that they would be upholstered and could be moved around at will.  He obsessed about the idea and was committed to following through when he had the ability to do so.  Years later, he remembered out of the blue that he had long ago decided to use excavation equipment as furniture but at that point considered it a silly idea.  He didn’t remember ever making the decision not to do it.  He didn’t remember when the commitment ended.  A lot of things are like that.

Sometimes you can look back and recognize the moment when the ending happened.  After the fourth season of Dancing With the Stars, it’s over.  It doesn’t have the same excitement and after a couple of episodes of season five you decide not to watch anymore.  End.  You have always worn white shirts as your signature look and then one day, you pop on a blue sweater and you get complements all day.  A couple of weeks later, the white shirts go to Goodwill.  End.  It takes a while to get there, but you can see where the end began.


Downstairs of “new” studio at present.

And then sometimes the end walks up and smacks you in the face.  You turn the corner to go to your favorite coffee place and it is closed…for good.  End.  Your best friend moves to Madagascar.  End.  Your studio building is sold.  End.  But wait.  Maybe it’s not really an end.  You can go to another coffee shop.  You can stay in touch with your friend electronically and maybe even visit her.  And you find another studio.  In my case, you build another studio.


Soon to be dormer upstairs.

The garage at home is being transformed into a two story studio with the advantage of being a short walk from the back door in pajamas with a cup of coffee in hand.  Sometimes the end is a beginning.

IMG_1368Sun.  Rain.  Rain.  Sun.  Sun.  Rain.  Sun.  Rain.  Rain.  RAIN.  Sun.  Weather is a big deal at Haystack.  Virtually all of the work is in studios so it’s not as if anything has to be called off because of rain, but things don’t dry and moving between studios, dining hall and cabins is dicey, both for getting wet and for uncertain footing.  But the variation adds to the serendipitous nature of the experience here.  You wake up in the morning and look out the window and there it is…weather. You go to the dining room for breakfast and there they are…pancakes.  You go to the studio and there you find something new to try.  As my brother-in-law, Web, says, “You never know, you know?”

IMG_1357Today is the last full day of work.  Tomorrow is clean-up, evaluations, a walk-through which is open to the public and an auction that benefits the scholarship fund and the studios.  It seems to arrive before anyone is ready for it.  The instructors this session have done a masterful job of timing the classes so that the arc of learning has been smooth and is ending at just the right time.  People will go home with finished work, samples and ideas from every studio.

The graphics studio is strewn with rich, inventive charcoal, graphite and ink drawings, enhanced with wax, shellac and spirit.  The textiles studio is dark with every surface covered with stitched samples, dyed fabric and paper, fab lab laser-cut wood pieces, yarn, lace and other pliable planes the students are using in the process of developing their own ways of working.  The class must be off somewhere on a jaunt.

IMG_1362The clay students are getting the last of their glazing done for the final firing tonight.  I don’t know how many firings they have had but it seems as if the past four or five days have been a continuous cycle of bisque firing, glaze, glaze firing, assess and repeat.  The clay class is perhaps the most unpredictable because the kiln gods have their own agenda.  There were many successes and lots of learning.

The jewelry/metals studio is alive with pounding and sanding and scraping, along with the IMG_1358conversations of people who have gotten to know and trust each other.  I am always amazed by how jewelery makers work with bits and pieces all over their desk that go together to create small worlds of delight.  Tomorrow at the walk-through, all of those fragments will make sense in their final forms.

IMG_1364Even the instructors get into the last-minute flurry of activity.  Mark Sfirri, the instructor in the wood studio, is showing Larry Thomas, the drawing instructor how to work with some calligraphic script that he had routed onto wood in the fab lab.

Such is the spirit of Haystack.  It is a big idea that affects people’s lives in small ways.  But those small effects can add up to a life changing experience.  I know that this happens in many places, all of the time, but it’s almost guaranteed here.  I am in awe of the kind of intelligence, respect, generosity and effort that is evident here in the students, the instructors and the staff.  The world isn’t totally lost after all.

IMG_1339As is appropriate for the weekend, I slacked off, and beginning with the lobster picnic on Friday night down on the rocks by the ocean.  It’s a time for relaxation and good food and often the first foray into eating a lobster that many will have.  There were even s’mores after dinner.

Saturday was a combination of work and off-campus adventures.  There is a lot to see in this coastal area of Maine and those of us who live here forget that, here if you come from another part of the country, this may be your only chance to see Bar Harbor, Acadia National Park and the many tool, antique and book sellers around the area.  The weather was beautiful which added to the lure off-island.

IMG_1343On Sunday came the deluge.  Parts of the road washed out and the potholes grew.  It was an amazing rainfall.  Most people stayed on campus and dug in in the studios.  I zipped out to see Dow Studio Gallery, Turtle Gallery and Wendy Murayama’s show at the Center for Community Programs at the Haystack winter offices in Deer Isle.  All were worth braving the elements.

IMG_1346After dinner was the traditional faculty boat ride with Old Quarry Ocean Adventures.  Cold, wet, overcast and pretty swell.  We saw seals and eagles and osprey and a lighthouse.  No sunset, but we did have good stories from Captain Bill.

And then comes Monday.  Back to business.  In the drawing class, most are beginning to gain traction in their self-directed project pulled from the many assignments and directed explorations from last week.  The time between now and the end of the week becomes precious to everyone.  The second week has a different dynamic than the first, a bit more serious.  Only a bit.,,,

IMG_1326Fridays are the same everywhere, it seems.  The sense of completion and release, the end of the week and the beginning of the weekend, all rolled into one 24-hour period.  Actually it really lasts from about three in the afternoon until who knows when in the evening.

Here at Haystack it often is the time when students are cut loose to follow their own paths in a project for the second week.  There is a process of review and consolidation, of adding the new information and skills to the practice brought with them that propels them forward in some fashion.  The weekend is wide open with no instruction, no requirements.

IMG_1327IMG_1315In Tim McCreight’s metals class, students have been learning many skills, each explained and demonstrated with clarity.  After each small assignment meant to reinforce the particular skill or skills, they gather around the table with their results and compare, assess and profit from everyone’s successes, problems andsolutions.   Yesterday they surprised Tim with an “assignment”, making a knife from materials around them in two minutes or less.  Totally goofy.  They insisted on an end-of-day critique (on Friday, no less) and Tim was reluctant but acquiesced.  Laughs all around and the perfect ending to a concentrated week was had by all.


IMG_1306We’re passing the middle of the first week.  There is always a shift at this point.  Things get, if not serious, at least less playful.  A lot of information has been presented, received and applied and the possibilities are (or seem) endless.  So many directions to go in, so many choices to make.

Today, small failures are more likely to occur.  In the first three days in most studios, with small assignments, instructors introduced skills and materials.  If you didn’t understand something, you asked a question and received an answer.  If you were learning to file a piece of steel, you kept at it until your hands knew what to do.  No failure in that.  If the piece of wood that you were carving cracked, you started on another one.  No failurIMG_1302e.

Now, with the general skills in hand, the students are more likely to be going in individual directions, using the skills each in his or her own way.  Now the sense of failure is more likely.  Of course, it’s only a personal, interior failure and not really a failure at all.  It’s a frustration, certainly, not to be able to realize the idea in your head with the skills and materials in your hands.  But it’s not a failure.  I will not be so corny as to say that it’s not a failure, it’s an opportunity, though it is, but I will say that it is a part of the process.

IMG_1303To be able to fail, regroup, try again and succeed is essential to learning and it is essential to the creative process.  Having the time to cycle through this series again and again is one of the things that Haystack encourages and supports so beautifully.  Now I just have to be there to convince folks that failure is a good thing, not always an easy task.

IMG_1292It was a soft, drizzly day, making the rocks and boardwalks slick, the moss green and the sky a white that extended beyond the horizon to obscure the islands.  It was good for work, building on the beginnings of yesterday.  No one braved the volleyball court (which is actually the lower parking lot) and people generally scuttled between buildings, not lingering for chats or views of the landscape.

IMG_1295The blacksmithing shop is the place to be on a cold day, of course.  All the forges were firing and folks were swinging those hammers, working on getting the rhythm right, relaxing the arm, letting the body support the movement, the basic physical aspects of blacksmithing which are learned only through practice.  You could see the difference in the confidence and relative ease of movement in just one day.

IMG_1301Sunshine Cobb demonstrated pinch and coil construction in clay.  Her ability to control the form and the thickness of the walls is amazing.  Again, practice comes into play.  Her hands know what to do and how to move with the correct amount of pressure and direction.  In the clay studio, too, you could tell that in just one day, the students’ hands were learning and the forms that they made today were more assured.  They were not like Sunshine’s, of course, but all they need is practice.

IMG_1280Today was the first full day of classes.  Six studios were humming with the eager beginnings of something new.  Actually, some studios were banging, look clanking or buzzing.  That would be metals, blacksmithing and wood.  Clay, textiles and drawing had a much quieter presence.  All, however, were intense and focused.

Here’s the lineup.  Blacksmithing with Mike Rossi is for beginners and for intermediate students who want to brush up on their skills.  Clay with Sunshine Cobb is handbuilding and surface development.  Drawing with Larry Thomas is for all skill levels.  Embroidery with Rachel Meginnes has beginners and people from various disciplines in it.  Metals with Tim McCreight is exploring very simple ways of making tools for metalwork.  Wood with Mark Sfirri is starting with making spoons and going on from there.  All of the classes seem to emphasize the use of the hands and materials to create something in the most elemental way.  I like that.  The processes allow for the individual to influence the outcome.

IMG_1291These simple copper dividers were made by the students in the metals class in a couple of hours, starting with a short piece of round stock.  In the process, the students learned forging, filing, riveting and drilling.  They had the same instructions to make a very simple form and yet they each have an individual character.  When there is little interference between hand and material, the individual comes through.