The Squadron, Revisited

A few months back I showed you The Squadron before they got their final "dress uniforms" on (bottom picture). Well, here they are, all ready for their parade.

Book Arts

The Austin Book Arts people don't just do books, they do lots of other stuff. For example, zines, Calligraphy, conservation, paper arts, bookmaking, book binding, etc. Jerome is currently in charge and this is just one example of his artistic talents, you can see more in the "Books" photostream here. (If you are in the Austin area, think about going to one of their meetings.

Susan

Rolling Along

Susan meant to get this for me at Christmas but things got too hectic around the mall area so she didn't do it. But the day I said I had to make a trip to Home Depot (I was having tool withdrawal pains) she handed me a BedBathBeyond discount coupon and reminded me it was just next door so I could easily treat myself.

It's a very heavy teflon-coated rolling pin I use to roll out clay slabs at home. At school I have the use of a big slab roller but before I just had a junky wooden rolling pin and it never seemed useful. This big one is PERFECT.

My ceramics class starts back up today. Or as Susan calls it, "Adult Daycare".

Getting Ready to Make History

"Occasionally in life there are those moments of unutterable fulfillment which cannot be completely explained by those symbols called words. Their meanings can only be articulated by the inaudible language of the heart."

Martin Luther King Jr.

Politics in Sicily

I was looking over my Sicily pictures so I could show you more about our trip there when I noticed something unusual (to an American, anyway) in the background of this one.

The picture was taking in an open market in the center of a town called Catania, not far from a restaurant whose specialty was horse meat. Although the posters look like they were torn off I don't know if they were just wearing off or were torn off by a rival party worker. There are LOTS of political parties and candidates in Italian politics. They make our ballots look really slim.

At the time we were there the Italians were getting ready to vote in their big national election so there were posters everywhere. I might not be totally accurate about this but here are two trivia facts I learned:

1) They vote on Saturday. No problem about getting off work or disrupting school.

2) All TV election/campaign advertising has to end 5 days before the election.

Charming the Local Police

In Sicily we listened to a lecture about the history of the Mafia. It was given by a professor from some school and was very scholarly and very neutral. Of course, Susan couldn't leave it alone and had to privately ask our tour guide, Rosa, if Sicilians were still watchful about the Mafia. Rosa rolled her eyes ("Another question?") and told Susan 1) that if it wasn't for the Mafia, nothing would work in Sicily and 2) don't do anything to cross the Mafia, which is just like the Polizia.

A few days later we were in a small town, heading back to the bus and Susan saw this guy and told Rosa she'd be right back, she wanted me to take her picture with him. Rosa freaked out. "No, you canNOT do that! Do not go near him! Don't even look at him. He is Polizia, he is Police. They do not talk to tourists. It is worse than Mafia. No! No!"

I missed getting the picture of them shaking hands.

Old Sicilian Coots

These two old coots were just sitting on a bench, glaring at the American tourists running around taking pictures of the church in their town square. Susan was making sketches in a little sketchbook she had and went up with a big smile and asked the scowling guys to sign the little sketch she made of them. The guy in the red hat gave her a big smile back and a long, long story in Italian. He was probably trying to hit on her. They both VERY laboriously signed their names on the sketch.

The town? Beats me. A long, dusty two-hour bus ride up into the mountains. Not very many tourists in the area at all. The next page in Susan's sketchbook said "Piazza San Paolo" so maybe that was it.

Yes, I Can So!

Maybe you think that all I can do is make art? Wrong! I can cook. Two years ago we went to Sicily and part of the group tour involved cooking classes. Not only did I learn to make gnocchi, I made two new friends.

Right now all my clay work is in that in-between stage where I'm not sure where I'm going with it but I'm not ready to give up on it. In the meantime I'll be showing you my wish-I-was-there-again pictures.

Susan: Don't let him fool you. We buy our gnocchi now.

PodMan

This is the final piece in this series for now. I really like the glaze colors but, as usual, I never write anything down so I have no idea how to get the same colors again. My work definitely is "What you see is what you get . . . .probably just once."

Ike and Morley, Before and After

Some pieces change a lot from the initial phase, some not so much. Here you can see that I'm still working on developing new glazes. Some of Robyn's work was the inspiration for the neck treatment. She recently posted about the difficulties of getting back into Work Mode, which I completely identify with. So much so that I need to lie down and take a nap.

Sometimes...

Sometimes the art I'm showing you needs to be Susan's.

Susan: Watercolor paper, Adirondack Color Wash, rock salt.

Barney and Jfry, Before and After

Just for the record, I have been producing. This set of pieces (more to follow) is a slightly new direction for me as far as glazing goes.

Happy New Year!

Here's hoping we all have a Happy New Year. Zee Bunny went to my sister-in-law, Linda, who took the snowy Taos picture posted from a few days back.

To all the faithful readers of my blog, thank you for your validation. Throwing thoughts, words and art out into the vast anonymous cyberspace can be a lonely feeling but you have all made me feel so much richer for your comments and your contact.

My Blog Wrangler, Susan, is everything a computer-klutz like me can hope for. She types for me, fixes my photos, sends me off to Adult Day Care (better known as my ceramics class at our community college), and keeps order in my world and on my blog. She has pushed me and shoved me into the art world and into the blogging community and I'm a much happier person for it all. However, she has given me my one New Year's Resolution: To be better about reading other people's blogs.

Is a Resolution resolved if you do it 3 days in a row?

Susan speaks:

Don used to claim that his dyslexia made it hard for him to use the computer. But his prolonged playing of Bejeweled and TipTop let me shoot that claim down. I do try to balance out internet information time with creative time for him but, as we all know, any type of balance in life is hard to maintain. We'll continue to work on it.

For those poor demented souls who think we are such a Perfect Couple, here's a brief peek into our life that might provide a little reality wake-up:

S: Check out the blogs, ______ has a great entry today (just fill in your name here).

D: What does it say?

S: Check it out yourself. Besides, you haven't looked at anyone's blog in over a week and they look at yours all the time, you rude clod.

D: How do you know they look at mine?

S: By their comments. You have been checking your own comments, haven't you?

D: Oh. Sort of. Well, what do they say?

S: Say about what?

D: Anything. What do they say in their blogs? And in comments?

S: Read them yourself, you lazy bum! I can't be reading everything to you. I already have to tell you when you have email.

D: Email? Do I have email? What does it say?

S: Definitely what is says it that you're not going to get lucky at all, ever, in 2009. And now you're working on 2010.

Frisky Pop

Susan speaks:

My best gift from Don was my new "Frisky Pop".

Yeah, yeah, they call it something else but that's because they don't know any better. I'm a big popcorn fan and got real ticked off at Orville R when he changed the size of the microwave sacks down from 3.5 ounces to 3.3 ounces. And didn't tell me and definitely didn't lower the price. I KNOW he did this because when we make popcorn it always goes in the same special popcorn bowls, always up to the top edge with just enough room to stir in the salt and sugar. All of the sudden, the popcorn didn't go up to the top edge. Did Orville think I wouldn't notice? Does he think size doesn't matter when it comes to food? Who does he think he's fooling?

Sugar on your popcorn? Probably you should not do it because once you do, you'll never stop. Although popcorn is good for you (lots of fiber), sugar is not so good for you. But, as we are constantly under Homeland Security's Red/Orange/Yellow/Purple/Blue/Whatever alert, which we all know means "Eat dessert first", I say just go for it.

Now that I've had real popcorn, popped as I slowly whirled it in my "Frisky Pop", I'll never go back to microwave again. I had forgotten how good real popcorn tastes! It's sort of like the difference in taste between the tomato you bought in the store and the warm tomato you just picked off the vine and bit into.

[Nope, no affiliation with the Whirley-Pop makers. Don got mine at BedBathBeyond but they are about the same price at Amazon, where they have a very high review rating.]

My New Best Friend

I was a good boy this year. Very good. So good that Susan gave me this incredibly terrific gift for a Christmas present. No, not the attractive woman! The plastic skeleton. So WAY COOL! His name is Ray and he's wearing a hat she gave me also. Ray is my new best friend (after Susan, of course).

The woman who is trying to make time with Ray is Barbara ("BK"), a friend of ours from college days. She didn't want to mess with having a date on Christmas Day so we lured her over to our house for dinner (gumbo with shrimp and sausage and chocolate lava cakes for dessert). Then we told her we had the perfect date for her -- he had good manners, didn't eat much, never got drunk, and best of all, was a good listener.

Susan:

BK and I met at Mrs. Grant's Boarding House for Women. Six rooms, twelve women, two bathrooms, no air-conditioning or heat, nightly curfews, and twenty meals a week for $100 a month. We all lived upstairs, Mrs. Grant lived downstairs and did most of the cooking with a cigarette with a 2" ash on it hanging out of her mouth. Lunch was always spotty, as it depended on what was happening on her favorite soap opera that day.

My Hope for the Holiday Season

Wishing for peace on earth. Everywhere. Now.

Tuba Christmas

Yesterday was my favorite day of the whole holiday season: Tuba Christmas. Over 200 tuba, sousaphone and euphonium players entertained us with a one-hour noon time concert on the steps of the Capitol. I really don't know what anything but a tuba is; the other instruments are smaller but they still do the oomp-pah sound just fine.

Mike and Janis and Susan and I arrived in plenty of time to get front row seats with our folding chairs. Then Janis and Susan abandoned us to play paparazzi as they both buzzed all over the place with their cameras -- Susan with her taped-up little camera and Janis with her heavy artillery.

Some schools bus in their band students from over 100 miles away so we get little guys and we get the old guys too. They practice for just one hour and then walk in to the Capital grounds and group up casually for the concert. Everyone has a great time, especially the spectators. Because the event never seems to get any publicity, other than word-of-mouth, the crowd isn't too big.

If you've never been to Tuba Christmas, GO! You might still be lucky enough to find one near you or at least plan ahead for next year.

Here's a picture Susan caught of Janis. The pictures following this one are all ones Janis took.

Both Susan and Janis were fascinated with this guy's tuba, which he bought on eBay.

Nothing says Christmas like Jingle Bells played on a tuba!

Call Me Mr. Green Jeans

My Panda plant needed some attention. The tall picture is after I cut leaves off for transplant, the close-up is one I transplanted this summer. Transplant? Propagate? Clone? Multiply? Breed? Whatever.

The pots are raku clay with a raku firing technique to give them that metallic glow. Raku is a tricky process involving fireproof gloves and tongs and and coordination and serendipity to produce distinctive results. I like the effects I got but I don't plan on doing any more raku in the future, as right now I'm more interested in the shapes and the sculptural part of working with clay.

Mr. Green Jeans? Here's a hint: Captain Kangaroo. Unfortunately, most of you are probably too young to have seen him.

Button, Button

Life is improving slightly. The kitchen now has light, Susan's printer is temporarily happy, she has a new battery for her keyless car key, and my back is getting better. Some people have recommended a chiropractor but that's not my preference - accupuncture is, and that seemed to really help me so I'll stick with that (and massage). Different strokes for different folks.

I had to get a new keyboard for my computer. It was just my bad luck that I took Susan with me and just my worse bad luck that Fry's Electronics is located in the same shopping center as Harbor Freight, Half-Price Books, and Dollar Tree, some of our favorite stores. That turned out to be a three-hour trip.

How could we turn down Dollar Tree buttons like these? The classic question non-art people have about items like these is, "What do you plan to do with them?" The classic answer, said very innocently, after a long pause while looking intently at the items, is always, "Beats the hell out of me."

Susan adds: I have no idea why this video of "How To Make A Button" is so enchanting but it just is. She is so earnest about explaining it all that I want it to be true!

A Bad Week

Life is not good this week. This piece is a nice example of how I feel right now. OK, I know everyone else has their tough times and and calamities and tragedies and mine aren't big at all but right now I feel like I'm getting pecked to death by ducks.

Our city, in all its infinite wisdom, has provided us with a new recycle bin. We used to have two blue plastic boxes, one for newspapers and one for metal/glass, and they sat out at the curb every week along with our 30-gallon trash can. The city's plastic boxes are gone, replaced by a 90-gallon blue recycle bin. The sucker is huge and we had to spend about 4 hours reconfiguring our garage just to find a place to put it.

The good news is that everything gets thrown into the bin, all kinds of plastic, glass, metal and paper together, no sorting needed. The bad news is that our city is so stupid they set up single stream recycling and planned to build a plant for the processing of the recycled stuff but decided not to. So our city sends all our recycled stuff 214 miles BY TRUCK down the highway to a city that does have a recycling plant.

To add insult to injury, the last day we had the blue boxes out at the curb the recycle truck picked up the recycle and took the boxes -- we had planned to save them to store stuff in. Nope, just crunched up in the truck. What a waste.

The kitchen light fixture is acting like a disco strobe and replacing the bulbs won't do the trick, the whole thing needs replacing. Not getting fixed, see Number Six below. I'm trying to convince Susan that a dark kitchen means we have ambience but she says it just means take-out food and no dishwashing.

Susan's closet door fell off its track. It takes two people to get it reset properly, one to hold the door up straight, one to fiddle with the pin thing at the bottom. Not getting fixed, see Number Six below.

Susan's printer is acting up, making grinding noises and generally not printing. This makes Susan act up and do strange computer techie things like lifting up the printer about 3 inches and then dropping it. Doing that several times and cursing a lot usually fixes it but sometimes it spontaneously and loudly fixes itself when she isn't even sitting there. Then she curses a lot.

Susan's keyless car key (which is really a key so why is it keyless?) that has a lock-unlock button stopped working but fortunately for the atmosphere, which was already blue from her cursing at the printer, it stopped working when the car was unlocked. And fortunately, I told her, the last time we replaced that battery I bought you a spare. After pawing through numerous drawers she found the tiny little screwdriver that opens the case and she replaced the tiny little battery with the spare we had in the Battery Drawer. Still didn't work. More cursing as she pawed through the trash can to find the package the battery had been in. Who would have thought that little thing would have an expiration date of 2005? A lot more cursing.

This was not the time to remind her that cursing doesn't help. Or that bad luck comes in threes because she's already counted past that. Number Five was the plumber's bill which included 4 digits before the decimal point showed up. OK, let's think about the greening of our environment (since our city seems to not do any thinking): What should we waste and what should we try to conserve? Water, natural gas or electricity?

The original plumbing in our house was laid out wonky, with the kitchen being the last point on the circuit from the hot water heater. That meant everytime we wanted to do dishes we had to run water for nearly 4-5 minutes until we got hot water. So we added a circulating pump to the water heater which means hot water circulates through the pipes continually and you have instant hot water at every point. So now we don't waste water. But the circulating pump uses electricity. The best compromise we could think of was to have a circulating pump with a timer so it only kicks in between 5-7 every night.

Expensive? Yikes. And add in the labor costs so we could finally have hot water to the washing machine because no matter they say on those "Cold-Water Detergent" bottles, your clothes do not get that clean (and Susan got weary of claiming that her socks were supposed to be grey). Tankless water heater? Not possible in this house unless we rip out part of the roof area.

And number six? The final blow that has brought down the House of Madden? Three days ago I wrenched my back. Bad. Big time. I can barely walk straight. Treatments: Ice and heat and heat and ice, lots of Advil, gently stretching, minimal sitting, slow walking (shuffling?) and lying on my back on the floor and a massage yesterday and one today and accupuncture tomorrow.

Susan is being sort of patient with me and has insisted I take my prescribed Valium pills in the afternoon when my back seems to spasm up the worst. I said "sort of" patient because she's already told me to quit whining or she'll take the Valium herself. I'd sic the pecking ducks on her but she'd probably stomp on them.

Late note: What was I doing when I wrenched my back? Yoga. Like they say, Growing Old is Not for Sissies.

Julie's Banana Boat

Life is good when you have mentors and instructors to help guide you as you grope along your artistic journey. Life is even better when you have a person who watches over a kiln for you.

Julie Isaacson is my Kiln Goddess and an incredibly gifted artist also, as her work shows, both here and here. Recently she was part of the Travis Heights Art Trail and it gave me a chance to buy one of her "Banana Boats". That's definitely not what she calls them but that's what will be going in it.

Street Art

Susan speaks:
I like Street Art but only when it's creative, done well or makes me smile. Some people call it graffiti, some people call it stencil art or spray can art, some people call it subversive art. Whatever you call it, it is a contemporary product of our urban culture

These pictures show a commissioned Street Art product.

So You Think You've Got Enough Stuff?

One of my instructors has been Sharon Smith (work shown above). Sharon is the person who gave me the Carrion plant, not because it was a sly stinky plant, but because she knew it would be weirdly beautiful when it bloomed.

Maybe you think you have enough Stuff to make art with but I can promise you that Sharon has more. Lots more. And she's makes her Stuff her art environment. On her website click first on the option "Studio", which she has subtitled "The Real Smithsonian", and you'll get an idea of the real impact of her house and yard.

Yes, I've been in her house. No, it isn't as amazing as the pictures make it seem -- it's even more amazing and wilder and crazier and brain-exploding creative than you can ever imagine.

Teapot

Everyone has to try making a teapot at least once. Ok, now I've done mine. It actually is functional as you can pour out of the mouth on either side. It will be very messy and you'll need to hold the little bird lid on carefully. I like it and think it is interesting to look at but I don't think it has much soul.

Librairie de France

Some people think New Yorkers are rude, abrupt and unfriendly. NOT! We took a 4-day trip to New York City and, as usual, we found New Yorkers to be some of the friendliest and most helpful people we've ever met in our travels. We have learned the hard way to never open up a map on the subway unless we want to have at least 5 totally unsolicited different opinions of the best way to get there from here. Of course Susan will talk to anyone, in fact I think she'd probably start up a conversation with a corpse: "Hey, how's it going? Been here long?"

A very special shop in New York City is Librairie de France at Rockefeller Center. Susan's stepfather was a World War II Normandy Beach veteran who fell in love with France and Paris and passed that interest on to her. So we've always stopped by just to browse.

This time when we wandered into the basement we met Emanuel Molho who let us take pictures of that area of the shop and of his office. While we were talking to him he stopped to take a phone call: "I'm quite sure I have one, let me check." Sure enough, he had an English-Zulu dictionary in stock! I didn't even know people spoke Zulu. Zuluese?

One thing Susan was particularily interested in was the French books that had uncut pages. Her bookbinding instructor had talked about how books used to be printed and pages had to be cut apart with a knife so she thought that was pretty special. But, according to Emanuel, not a big deal for older books printed in France.

Susan and Emanuel had a long conversation about the fate of his store, which is not good: After over 72 years at Rockefeller Center they are having to close in just a few months. Beautiful French books on sale? Foreign language books at sale prices? French children's books? Stop by and go in. At first it will look like a small shop with a few books but look for the stairs to the basement -- that is where you want to go and where we took these pictures. This store is a treasure and it will be a shame to see it replaced by some useless chain store.