Now, one week of the Ragdale four is past. The tiny maquette I made on Saturday night/ Sunday morning gave way to a larger prototype, about ¼ size, that will become a piece in its own right for smaller spaces. It had to be restructured and added to three times before I was satisfied with its shape. The revisions are an essential bit of the process. These first maquettes were cut from paper I’d made previously; I intend to make a great number of shaped sheets for the final large piece, because I want the superb texture of deckled edges. I’ll be working from small to large, and each time I change a shape, the custom deckle will be cut away: there’s no going back to repair.
Right now, I’m significantly slowed by rain: yesterday, today, and there are storms predicted for tomorrow. My prototype’s damp dye tests are taking hours and hours to dry. I can’t go get the supplies I now know I need till the rain stops, because the dirt road that led partway to the studio no longer exists. Everything will need to be trundled down from the main driveway (a fair distance) in a small wheelbarrow-like gardener’s cart. It’ll take several trips, and I will be bringing things that can’t get wet (and aren’t easy to wrap to protect); the damage could be irreparable. So: while it rains, I’ve repaired my schedule: I’ll work on the auction piece and finish the paperwork for a few things I’m applying for.
But: when it pauses for a bit, the rain makes the gorgeous prairie colors deeper, more resonant, like fresh varnish on a restored painting. And it suits the somewhat conflicted, shifting intense moods I’m traversing as I watch some predictable, sad events unfold in another world, things I tried long and hard to prevent, to repair, with repeated, repeated, repeated words that fell on ears that were willfully far deafer than my own. Slow, revised progress or not, it makes me even more grateful to be here in the bastion of peace and support that is Ragdale.
Last but definitely not least, Blahg has expanded its scope by bringing me contact with someone whose work I liked and published, without knowing who she was or where she was from. Hannah Streefkerk is the artist who had stitched repairs onto trees and schisms in rocks at I-Park, and she is from the Netherlands. She does her witty mending in situ and on photos. Check it out here!
And now, I will repair to the kitchen and then the studio.