Two More Addresses

Wayfinder, detail

I moved to San Francisco from San Jose on Friday. I'm now in a place I will be in for awhile and have a chance to find my way around a little before grad school starts. This move got me thinking about the piece I made in 2014 about all the places I have lived in the United States since the first time I went to school. Wayfinder is a visual record of my homes and is composed of tools to help me find my way back to each of them, to aid my memory of each place. A map, an address book complete with every address of every apartment, a pencil, a compass, and the key to my childhood home. The topmost form represents the four states I have lived in combined to create a new state, my own state, complete with lakes, mountains, and low lands. Delicately inscribed on this map is the path of my movement from one city to the next, each represented by the tiniest of piercings. Now, after only one month, I can add two more addresses to the list for a grand total of 27 places, 12 cities, and five states. I won't alter Wayfinder, but I've been imagining how it would change if I did.

Moving is something I'm used to and something I've come to accept as part of my life. It may not be this way always, but as long as it is I will continue to just go with it, and enjoy it. I dig into a new place with fervor regardless of how long I will be there. I treat each place as if it were a long-term spot. I unpack and nest, I walk everywhere, I figure out where the grocery store is and which coffee shop I like best. I try to learn as much as I can and be as present as possible. San Francisco is a city I have admired for a long time and I'm thrilled to have a chance to get to know it better. It's also the most urban and populated city I have ever lived in, and, most definitely, the opposite of where I was living before, a small town of 1,200 people in the middle of farm country. As I stated with a recent Instagram post, I'm looking forward to the fog, and so much more.

foggy view on the Golden Gate Bridge

Wayfinder, 2014

wearing Wayfinder the day I completed it

detail

Thanks for reading.

Final Days, Part 4

I moved across the country for the third time on Monday from Upstate, NY to central California. I'll be living in San Jose for a time until I find the right place in San Francisco. I'm in no rush, really, and have no interest in stressing out over finding an apartment. I'll take my time, settle in, figure out where things are and how to get around, get to know my new home state of California... 

The move was challenging, of course, and not without trials. Weather caused many flights into and out of O'Hare to be delayed or cancelled. My first flight was rerouted and after a few hours on the tarmac, refueling, and a damage inspection due to hail, we made it to Chicago. I spent the night in a hotel and got on a plane to California the next day. 

As for my things, my two 50lb suitcases made it, remarkably. The rest of my things were packed into a storage unit that is now so disorganized the mere thought of it makes my skin crawl. A friend and I joked that it just wasn't a move without random things in your pockets after moving everything (like the key to my acetylene tank), or the last few things thrown haphazardly into the back of the car and then thrown randomly into boxes with out packaging materials or labeling.

It was bittersweet to leave my little Lake Street Studio. The moment before I left I stood in the empty room and thought about the things I made there, some really special, important things... work about my family and my home, most specifically. I discovered a great deal about myself and my practice in the year and a half that I was there. I revisited important spots, uncovered memories, and reconnected with the place that will always be my home. 

Thanks for reading.

Reading and Listening

the corner of my childhood home and site of my earliest memory

My work begins with a vague idea, a translucent thought and/or a broad question based on my memories. Then I read a lot and I also listen, and as I do both, I think and take notes. The following list includes links to articles and podcasts that made an impact on me while I was developing ideas for "I Live Here Now":

The Psychology of Home: Why Where You Live Means So Much 
by Julie Beck at The Atlantic

Home, Dismantled by Olivia Judson at The New York Times

Personal Identity is (Mostly) Performance by Jennifer Ouellette 
at The Atlantic

“Is there an afterlife?” Ghost-Hunting at My Grandmother’s House by Ben Shattuck at Salon

In Grief, Try Personal Rituals by Emily Esfahani Smith

The Definition of Home by Verlyn Klinkenborg at the Smithsonian

Lost and Found on Radiolab

No Place Like Home on This American Life

Away from Home on This American Life

On Not Going Home by James Woods on London Review of Books

porcelain escutcheon cover of the front door 

of my childhood home

lava fields covered in moss, my favorite place in Iceland

Thanks for reading.

We Walk on the Same Ground (because) I am With You, You are With Me

We Walk on the Same Ground

In addition to my family, the house I grew up in and all the places I have lived as an adult, my ideas of home come from my friends and community. I am fortunate to have friends all over the place, and not just acquaintances, but very close, dear friends. I also have a network of artists around the US in jewelry, art and craft. "We Walk on the Same Ground" is about all of these people and reflects my feelings towards them and the memories I have of each person. I also wanted to show generosity because my friends are incredibly generous people and I feel a wonderful, balanced "give and take" between us. Through a multi-layered ritual, I collected dirt from 23 different friends and based the main form of the piece on the reliquary, a container for sacred objects. Later I added spoons to symbolize generosity and to create visual balance. Once the piece was complete, I made an accompanying necklace with a cluster of spoons. This piece is also a brooch and should be worn with the spoons pinned over the heart. 

I am With You, You are With Me

The ritual included participation from 23 different people from a number of cities, as well as my input both in the US and later in Sweden. Next week I'll get into the details of this process and show some images. 

detail of the reliquary

packages of dirt from 23 friends

Please visit my Flickr page to see some images of process. 

Thanks for reading.

I Live Here Now, Part 2

I'm down to two weeks until my work has to be shipped to my photographer so I'm in serious hustle mode. I have a lot left to do, but feel good about the path I'm on. I'm working a little differently than usual for this body of work, too. I often work on multiple things at once, maybe two at a time, and usually I complete these before moving on to something else. However, this time I'm working on all the pieces simultaneously. At first, I planned to devote one week per piece, but realized right away that this wasn't going to work because none of my ideas were truly ready. Instead, I've been slowly developing the work as a group with some days spent solely at my bench, other days with research, and others still divided between the two. My ideas become clearer every day, and they also become more complicated. At this point, all I can do is keep working and stay as focused as possible. I cannot think about the end, no matter how eager or stressed I get. And with that said, sometimes the end is all I can think about. 

This new work is layered and each piece has multiple parts which are not limited to jewelry. I'm also working with objects, drawings and text, arrangements and installations. I'm still not ready to really get into the pieces here, but I will say I'm using my mother's wedding dress and stones from the foundation of the house I grew up in. I'm looking to what I keep referring to as "archetypes" from the history of jewelry and I feel I'm creating artifacts of my home. I'm also honoring my life as a jeweler, while also ushering in my hopes for a future in sculpture and installation.

Thanks for reading.

Mining My Sketchbooks

A few years ago I went to an artist talk at Penland and I heard something that has stayed with me. The details are hazy, including the identity of the artist himself, but I do remember he was a photographer and he was talking about things he tells his students. He said something about "mining your sketchbook," basically looking through old sketchbooks for thoughts and ideas for new work. I have a big stack of sketchbooks and I look through them occasionally to do just this. There are so many ideas in them, ideas I will never get to, especially if I don't remind myself. I've been writing about my new work today and as I sat here I remembered a list I wrote in 2010 that includes all of my moves in the US. I found the list and will use it somehow in my new work. It's interesting to be reminded where and when I lived somewhere…and this is helpful information when making work about "home."

Now if I could just find that line about mining your sketchbooks... I know it's in one of these!

Thanks for reading. 

Starting Point

a partially frozen stream a few blocks from my house

I started working on the "homeland" part of my upcoming solo exhibition on Monday. I've been taking daily walks to allow my mind to wander and also to remember growing up here, to collect photographs and other visual information, and to begin forming ideas. As I walk I try to clear my mind of everything else (easier said than done!) and I try to focus on my work. I've been thinking about the definition of home, or my definition of home, and I'm thinking about ways I can show this in new jewelry. When I get back to the house, I do some writing--sentences, lists, short paragraphs, questions--just get my thoughts recorded for further reference. I would like to walk every day so by early January I have a rich collection of information to work with.

I read an interesting article on Brain Pickings Tuesday night that couldn't have come at a better time. The piece was about a book on generating ideas. A Technique for Producing Ideas by James Webb Young, written in 1939, describes the five basic steps in forming an idea. I was so excited to read the steps--I see each one in my process, especially because I begin with walking, a great place for the process to evolve and happen. I immediately bought a copy for myself and can't wait for it to arrive.

I'll be adding photographs to Flickr and Facebook regularly…or find me on Instagram!

Thanks for reading.

Big, Part 2

I am very pleased to announce my next solo exhibition at Four in Göteborg, Sweden! Karin Roy Andersson, a jeweler and one of the four owners of the gallery, invited me last winter and we've been working on plans ever since. Over the summer we finalized the dates and I began developing the concept. I will focus on ideas of home and searching for home...I'm looking for my home right now and have been since before I left Penland over a year and a half ago. I'm also rethinking or redefining my idea of what home is. I travel a lot and very much live in a transitional state, finding home wherever I am but also longing for the place where I feel most myself, a place where I truly want to live my life.

For this new exhibition, I am planning to show three separate but complementary groups of work. One will be about my childhood home, one will be about Iceland, and one will be about the home I find wherever I am. I call these places "Homeland," "Heartland" and "Outerland." I will include the jewelry I made in Iceland, I will make a series of pieces while I'm living with my parents, and, finally, I will create a site-specific installation at Four using materials I find as I explore Göteborg. I will give myself a limited amount of time to create this piece and will rely heavily on intuition.

one of three necklaces from Alone/Together,

a series I began in Iceland

As you can imagine, I am thrilled for this opportunity! I get to make a substantial new body of work and travel to a place I've never been to before. I get to make things there, too, which is always a fantastic and rewarding challenge. I'm also excited to have a chance to work through some very serious thoughts and questions I have right now. As with my previous exhibitions I developed an idea and then made jewelry to illustrate it, working through the concept, exploring its nuances, and finding answers. I have not thought about this specifically until now--as an artist I get to work through things with my mind and my hands and often find answers and gain clarity. I articulated this to myself recently and became very excited. What an honor! I approach this next exhibition with this in mind, alongside thoughts of home and curiosity for what will be at the other end.

The show opens April 4, 2014 and I will travel to Sweden in late March to install the work, attend the opening, and visit Göteborg. 

Thanks for reading.