About face

Masking Taped

Wedged between Halloween and the Day of the Dead, most ghouls ringing my doorbell this past week were hiding behind a mask.  Some scary, a few goofy and others just plain sweet. My front porch has always welcomed the masquerade parade with an equal mixture of carved expressions.

We take our jack-o’-lanterns very seriously at my house on Halloween.

Masks have a rich history of varied cultural significance, used to protect, disguise or transform those they adorn.  Mask-making is a highly revered art form in many societies, practiced by the artisan and passed to the apprentice.  In classrooms across the globe, our children learn tradition, ritual and myth as they create masks with their own hands.

But, in the season of costume, I wonder more about the mask so many artists feel compelled to wear.  Why do we hide?  I say it’s time to take off the mask and reveal the ugly truth.

Oh so serious at a stick installation in San Antonio, March 2018.

 Yes, this is the face of an artist.

Dead calm

When in the midst of creating an installation, I am lost in the moment.  Concentration and problem-solving are core to the creative process, but I believe it is the hand-mind connection that brings me the most satisfaction.  The world’s problems disappear and I find a quiet peace that I wish could be sustained forever.

So tell me, why such a sour face?

Watching out for that sneaker wave on Pacific Beach, Washington, July 2018.

It was shocking to see myself as others would if they stumbled upon me during an installation.  My heart is singing, my fingers are dancing and my mind is in a calming meditative state.  The mask I’m wearing does not reflect the sheer joy I’m experiencing as a working artist.

Moss, moss everywhere and not a spot to place, Lodingen, Norway, October 2018.

Who is this imposter?

Wafer thin

The psychology of imposter syndrome is a very real affliction for many and seems to be rampant among the artist community.  Reflecting back over my 50 years, there is no doubt I am an artist and have been traveling a creative path, no matter how winding.  Technical sales in the auto-id and telecommunications world may be the mask I wear in my ‘day job’, but it’s the creative spirit beneath that defines me.

So, stand tall, fellow creative, hiding behind a veil of self-doubt, afraid to utter these words:  I am an artist.  We can see you through the transparent material because an artistic soul is impossible to shroud.

And, while you rise up, I will be routing for all things creative from down below.

Getting a dose of hot lava rock during an ice installation on the black sands of Maui, June 2018.

Truth or dare

As I bumble my way through the landscape of social media, I’ve seen just how much the world wants to see the face of the artist behind the creations.  The overwhelming positive response when posting an image of myself in my element, particularly lying face down in the sand, has been touching and extremely encouraging.

The balancing act of a blue pea ice stack on Vikten Beach, Lofoten, Norway, October 2018

It is the real, raw authenticity of the journey that we can all relate to.  We feel connected by the passion to do exactly what we are meant to, no matter how ridiculous we may feel.  Truth be told, as soon as we reveal our heart, absurdity vanishes into thin air.

Likin’ the lichen during a heart-red ice installation on Sør Arnøy, Norway, October 2018

But, I didn’t see this on my own. Deep in creative thought and high on installation wanderlust, I was completely oblivious to the face I wore or the lengths I might go for my art.   It took the love of another to show me how others might see me when I’m being true to myself.  The gift of this mirror has helped me see my face behind the mask.

The man in the mirror, Chris, getting a piece of the installation action in San Antonio, March 2018.

Eye scream

As scary as a Scream mask might appear on your doorstep this time of year, let it be a reminder that we as artists need to shout out loud.  The world is waiting to hear our voices and see the sparkle in our eyes and the smile on our faces.

Why not take off your mask and let me hear your voice in the comments below?

Fifty is nifty

Hash taggin’

Slinging slang in 1860, thespians may have created a clever way to shorten the word magnificent.  Leave it to artists to mix things up even back in the olden days.  The fact that this artist is using the word nifty in 2018, however, might be an indicator of age as opposed to creativity.  My kids will certainly attest to that.

However, nifty is a perfect word to consider as I approach a half century of living and loving on this amazing earth of ours.  The magical number of 50 has been swirling in my mind lately, and I have to say, I’ve lived a pretty magnificent life:

·      More than 50 countries have been stamped in my passport

·      50 new creative ideas have popped up in my head this year alone

·      I just traveled 50 hours to secure my 1st gallery-hosted international installation!

Pretty nifty stuff.

Traveling the globe is where inspiration is cultivated.

So, why not write about 50 things that happened in those 50 hours as a memorable way to welcome in 50?  Sounds excessive maybe, but when you stop and truly reflect, you can find magnificence in as little as 50 seconds of time.

High Five

It is said that we can only remember about five things in our short-term memory.  As a tactile learner, the five fingers of one hand becomes a useful tool to help remember those things.  Therefore, instead of taxing the brain with a long list of 50, let’s break it down into 5 bite-sized chunks of 10:

1.     Planes, trains and automobiles

2.     Techno Logic

3.     Color therapy at 6000 feet

4.     The factory of dawn

5.     Words of wisdom

Should we start with the thumb or the pinkie? 

Planes, trains and automobiles

Having 50 years of wanderlust tugging me around, I’m no stranger to the bumps of travel.  During this whirlwind trip, however, I easily had 10 sweet moments (two hands are better than one!) in the land of transportation:

1.     Caught six flights to/from Mexico and was on time to each of my meetings

2.     Enjoyed a free upgrade to first class on AeroMexico’s flight to Guadalajara

3.     Sipped tortilla soup thanks to TAR’s 150 peso food voucher for a 4 hour flight delay

4.     Found Ignacio, my taxi driver, even though the sign he held said ‘Ana’

5.     Listened to Mexican love songs for 3 hours by Ignacio’s side

6.     Treated like royalty in the Priority Pass lounge in Queretaro

7.     Marveled at a lightning bolt display from my plane window

No, this is not my photo, but I swear this is exactly what the storm looked like!

8.     Spent 185 pesos for a 2 minute cab ride to eat 3 tacos for 45 pesos

9.     Zipped through immigration for the first time with my Global Entry card

10.   Grabbed my bag as it tumbled FIRST from the luggage carousel belt

Techno Logic

Switching off your airplane mode as the wheels touch down means you know that travel technology is a blessing and a curse.  One week shy of 50, I still remember the days with nothing but a coin for a payphone while on the road.  No coins needed this past week with these 10 minor miracles of telecommunications:

 1.    Connected to free wifi at four out of five international airports (wake up LAX!)

2.     Gazed at Thor fighting to protect the Infinity Stones on not one, but two flights

3.     Received the good news of my free upgrade to first class on my Delta app

4.     Wrote and designed my very first opt-in at 36,000 feet

5.     Finished uploading photo images in my website shop to launch on my birthday

One of many installation photos that will be available to buy on my website shop October 1st.

6.     Located Ignacio using my Airbnb app, not the sign he held in his hand

7.     Saw every wrong turn Ignacio took on Google Maps before he did

8.     Gratefully accepted both of Ignacio’s USB slots to charge my phones on the road

9.     Recorded a live announcement on Instagram in the halls of Fabrica la Aurora

Live and kicking my announcement at Fabrica la Aurora, San Miguel de Allende, Mexico.

10.  Created a hot spot with my Blackberry when there was no wifi (LAX…sigh)

Color theory at 6000 feet

If my thumb and pointer finger are all about travel within 50 hours, the last three fingers on my hand celebrate the artistic side of the journey.  To realize my dream of a large scale international installation in my 50th year is a thrill.  To have this event in San Miguel de Allende in the heart of the Mexican plateau is a visual treat that can be summed up in 10 colors:

1.     Coral spires of the Parroquia de San Miguel Arcángel

2.     Adobe tiles of weathered cantera stones

3.     Burnt orange of the stucco facades

My next door neighbor in San Miguel de Allende.

4.     Mahogany carved doors of courtyard entrances

5.     Ochre washes of high garden walls

6.     Fuchsia blooms of the bougainvillea vines

Glitter infused adhesive domes installed in a bougainvillea in San Miguel de Allende.

7.     Amethyst flowers of the jacaranda trees

8.     Taupe cobblestone of the winding streets

9.     Parakeet green of the spiny cacti

10.  Azure blue of the clear skies above

50 shades of color around every corner in San Miguel de Allende.

The factory of dawn

To travel 2600 miles across the continent to an altitude of 6200 feet, one should expect to be dazzled by more than just the vivid colors of San Miguel de Allende.  Known as a creative haven, it is an incredible honor to have my first show at Manuk Galeria and on the grounds of Fabrica la Aurora.  I would travel this distance 50 times over to have 10 glorious moments like these:

1.     Met for two hours with the owner of Manuk Galeria to discuss details of my show

2.     Presented physical and printed samples of creative ideas for the space

3.     Admired the work of 5 other wonderful artists represented by the galle62

The artist/owner of Manuk, Lourdes Rivera, is a lovely woman with an open heart.

4.     Shared stories of our creative lives as two female artists on opposite sides of 50

5.     Walked the grounds of Fabrica la Aurora to select outdoor areas for installation

One of many cactus gardens that will house my installation work in March 2019.

6.     Introduced to the director and exchanged ideas for the outdoor space

7.     Discussed logistics and strategies for shipping artwork internationally

8.    Chatted with several artists who have working studios in the area

An old textile factory turned design center for creatives of all types.

9.     Watched an artist working on a piece he anticipates will take him a year to complete

10.  Stumbled into Ana Thiel’s open studio and unlocked a window to my glass future

In February 2018, I discovered the Manuk Galeria and the work of Ana Thiel, a Mexican glass artist whose work holds the aesthetic of my heart. I met Ana in her studio last week - lucky stars!

Words of wisdom

Seamless travel, technology triumphs, a kaleidoscope of colors and an artist’s dream all wrapped up in 50 short hours is something to cherish.  In those quiet moments in between, I found myself thinking about 10 simple words that will usher me gracefully into my next half century. I am:

1.     Grateful

2.     Aligned

3.     Creative

4.     Excited

5.     Inspired

6.     Lucky

7.     Focused

8.     Balanced

9.     Alive

10.  Young

Hello 50.  Damn glad to meet you…

How about meeting me in the comments below? It would be a birthday wish come true!

Take charge of living large

The stuff of dreams

Nestled in the sand among sea-weathered driftwood in La Push, Washington, my daughter, Zsofi, dazzles us with tales of the universe.  As the stars above begin to twinkle, wild statistics of relativity bounce around our banter like the sparks of our campfire:

• All of the planets from our solar system can fit between the Earth and the Moon.
• Jupiter is approximately 318 times as massive as Earth.
• 1.3 million Earths can fit inside our Sun, but 9.3 billion Suns would be needed to fill VY Canis Majoris, the largest known star in the universe.

How many grains of sand can you hold in your hand?  Only the La Push jellyfish really knows...

And to bring us right back to the very beach we are huddled on, famed astrophysicist, Carl Sagan’s timeless quote drifts by:

• “The total number of stars in the universe is greater than all the grains of sand on all the beaches of the planet Earth.”

So, as we sit in awe of the cosmic vastness around us, a very simple truth emerges:

We are small.

Zsofi sizing up the largest piece of driftwood I've ever seen.  The magic of La Push, July 2015.

 

Major Minor

The notion of small, and it’s more expressive cousins of compact, tiny, petite and wee, are often celebrated in our culture.  All things technological are shrinking while becoming more robust and efficient.  Micro-living and tiny houses are infiltrating both our consciousness and our neighborhoods.  Even our planet, in its itsy-bitsy place in the Milky Way, is dwindling as globalization becomes the norm.

In the creative world, miniature art has been thriving for centuries with dozens of active societies across the continents.  Who isn’t intrigued by the artist who has the patience, focus and unparalleled fine-motor skills to create the minute?

That artist is not me….or so I thought.

Teeny tiny Ice embedded with pea and berry atop a lichen covered lava rock near Stykkishólmur, Iceland, December 2017.

Under the microscope

Building a sculptural piece for my installation practice has been dictated by the space it is created in - studio, kitchen, freezer, silicone mold – all relatively small.  However, the proximity I have to the work in vision, creation and documentation magnifies its size in my mind’s eye.  Nevertheless, like moving from sketchbook to canvas, I can see that my installation’s substrate is actually massive...

Welcome to Planet Earth!

I spy with my little eye a teeny tiny ice installation.  Can you find it?

Lights, Camera, Action

The Hawaiian Islands are a tiny ripple in the Pacific Ocean.  Iceland is an elf in the shadow of Greenland.  The expansive beach of the rugged Olympic Peninsula is a milli-fraction of North America’s coastline.  Yet, each of these wonderlands have elicited vastness in contrast to the tiny installations I have placed. 

Ice embedded with leaves at the base of Dynjandi waterfall in Iceland, frozen above at 330 feet tall, November 2017.

Through the lens of a camera, I’m pulled magnetically towards the details of the artwork starring in my play, but the setting is an integral part of the plot.  The locations have been carefully selected by a visceral energy, their draw magically nipping at my wanderlust.

Simply put, I travel to these sites because of their immense beauty.

Blue butterfly pea infused ice installation melting fast on the black sand beach at Waianapanapa in Maui, June 2018.

Placing an installation within a sweeping environment does not make me feel small, but rather fills me with limitless creativity.

You see, it’s all relative.

Acres of ranunculus blooming in Carlsbad, California, made a perfect site for an installation, March 2018.

Blink of an eye

Beyond the miniscule nature of being alive and kicking in this teeny twirling orb called Earth, our time here is nothing more than a blip.  How about that for making you feel small?

In my artwork, people often wonder why I make ethereal pieces that will be gobbled up by the world around them.  All of the time and effort, heart and soul, to be snatched away in a matter of moments?

Organically dyed dough (or Fruity Pebbles!) installed between lava and coral in Maui, June 2018.

Placing tenuous work allows me to experience the now.  It is the nano-second of time that I can create my own unique mark and marvel at its micro-impact.

Standing in the massive lava flow on the MacKenzie Pass in the Oregon Cascades, a spectacle that belched its way across the landscape close to 3000 years ago, I see a few scattered trees.  They have no business being there, but it is their wee mark in time and space that captures my heart and my artist's eye.

So, get out there and plant your creative sapling now.

Glitter infused resin cubes installed in a Lodgepole pine setting up shop in a lava field on MacKenzie Pass in Oregon, August 2018.

Bigsy Small

For many of us, the idea of being small is crippling.  Comparing ourselves to those around us can foster fear and produce feelings of inadequacy.  Artists have this affliction in spades, all wrapped up in limiting beliefs that keep us from making our mark, even though the world is anxiously waiting for it.

Installation of acrylic painted paper sticks installed along the River Walk in San Antonio, Texas, March 2018.  I had more people stop to talk to me about the installation than ever before, all curious about what kind of mark I was making.

Funny enough, the best way to move beyond this fear is by taking the tiniest of steps.  Just one unique speck today creates a growing momentum and informs the splotch of tomorrow.  We’ve been graced with space, so fill it up, buttercup!

The granular level

The next time you are laying in the sand, imagining the grains you hold in your hand are only a snippet of the stars you see in the sky above, remember this:

Living large and making a mark on Pacific Beach in Seabrook, Washington, April 2018.

• There are more atoms in a human than stars in the universe.

Guess that means we truly are larger than life!

How about leaving your mark in the comments below?

The square root of pie

Creative Blocks

A bat, a moth and a butterfly flit into a bar…

Might seem like a strange visual, but these are the most common images (sans bar!) that people see when they examine the first of Rorschach’s ink blots.  Known as Klecks at University, the Swiss artist-turned-psychiatrist developed his love of Klecksography into one of the most widely known psychoanalytical evaluations of our time.

Two Peas, 2018, my first attempt at painting with the organic blue dye of butterfly pea blossoms.

So, here is my question:  what is the fascination of finding the reality in abstract art?

As humans, we have an inherent need to understand what we see and connect it to the world around us.  The figure, the landscape, the dogs playing poker - we get that and it makes sense.  It's exactly why puffy cumulus clouds have a tendency to channel Mickey Mouse.

Seems Mickey Mouse was absent this day.  What do you see?

But, when someone says your work reminds her of dried fish swim bladder, what does that say about you, or more importantly, your art?

Mawther Nature's candy

Building and installing abaca sculpture, a fiber made from a native Philippine plant in the banana tree family, has garnered lots of ink blot banter.  The swirls have been lovingly compared to Dr. Suess’ fantasy world, Chihuly’s glass work and unicorn horns.

Abaca swirls installed on Black Butte Ranch in Oregon, August 2018.

However, when Cherry, my Thai sister-in-law, feverishly helped me slather adhesive on the abaca to prepare for a festival installation this month, she saw fish maw.

How does a fish float and sink in water?  Swim bladder of course!

And you know what?  I get it.

Not because the dried seafood delicacy Cherry was forced to eat as a child actually does resemble my abaca swirls.  Nope.  It’s because, for some reason, the number one recurring connection people make to my artwork is food.

Fish out of water

Merging my love of global travel with art installation, I never imagined I would learn about the foods of distant lands by sticking art in the ground.

Hibiscus infused ice installed on quicksand in Seabrook, Washington, July 2018.  Beach ice pops!

Although my sculptures have seen international waters, none of these tasty treats have influenced my work.  In fact, some of these morsels and their homelands I’ve never even experienced.

Let’s make a shopping list:

• Borrachitos – the little drunk filled with sweet jelly
• Lokum - the Turkish delight meant for royalty
• Khanom Chan - the nine layer dessert of Thai prosperity

Who says you can’t have dessert first?

 

Punch Drunk Love

I love everything about Mexican food, but I must admit, I’m not one for the sweets of this scrumptious country.  While on Desha Peacock's Sweet Spot Style creative retreat in San Miguel de Allende in January this year, an artist friend, Melissa Partridge surprised me with a gift of borrachitos.

Not a shabby place to create some adhesive domes while on retreat in Mexico.  Don't eat the art!

Melissa was not appealing to my sweet tooth. She saw the crystallized jelly cubes and immediately thought of the resin work I was installing in San Miguel. 

You might get a little drunk munching on these sweeties in Mexico.

These sugary squares were originally created by nuns to give to their patrons in appreciation for support.  Eventually, the sisters found their entrepreneurial spirit and began selling the delicacy to the public.

Glitter infused resin cubes stacked and good enough to eat in San Miguel de Allende, Mexico, January 2018.

Love it!  Artisans realizing the value of their work – something we all need to embrace!

 

The turkey trot

Unlike damar resin, an organic substance drained from trees in East Asia, the resin in my current work is 100% man-made polymer.  Nothing you want to gobble down with a tall glass of milk.  I would venture to guess eating tape, paper and glue would also not sit well on an empty stomach.

Don't pop this cube in your mouth please!

Not so apparently.  The Pop Cubes I’ve created have recently been compared to the wildly sweet Turkish Delight of the spice markets in Istanbul.

Lokum love to share with family and friends.

Although I would not recommend munching on my adhesive treats, the process of making lokum reminds me of the delicate nature of working with resin.  The ingredients are simple, but you have to make sure you follow the directions and have everything at your fingertips before you start cooking.

As you can see, I follow the directions perfectly, including the precise measurements and appropriate equipment for handling resin polymer.

 

Thai spice drops

The kitchen is the heart of the home.  It is where we create food to nurture ourselves, body and beyond.  We gather around the table to connect, celebrate and commune.  Therefore, having my resin cubes compared to khanom chan in Thailand is an honor, and apparently quite lucky.

Glitter infused resin cube at Pacific Beach in Seabrook, Washington, April 2018.

Butterfly pea jelly dessert Thai style.

Making the jump from my sculptures to fodder was not an obvious leap for me.  However, if I reflect on the past year of installation, much of my work incorporates organic material and requires the kitchen as my studio.

I mean, isn't the artist's apron borrowed from a chef?

Dough nuts

Organic dyes first entered my practice when I built frozen pieces to install in Iceland.  I spent weeks in the kitchen researching dyes derived from plants.  Even the elusive blue was found in a magical tea brewed from the blossoms of the butterfly pea.

Nothing more beautiful than a gradient study of blue thanks to butterfly pea blossoms.

Planning my installation trip to Maui in June, the stove-top became my drafting table once again.  In a stretch to move from cubes to a spherical form, I opted for an easy solution – dough.  Funny enough, it was actually edible art!

Organic dough is more salty than sweet - beware.

Placing organic dough on the beaches of Hawaii elicited a kid-in-a-candy-store list from spectators:

• Skittles
• Pop Rocks
• Nerds
• Sprinkles
• Fruity Pebbles
• Easter eggs
• Potatoes (ok – this one isn’t very sugary, but sweet in thought)

A little sand never hurt.  Organic dough on Hamoa Beach, Maui, June 2018.

Connecting my art to the confections of Mexico, Turkey and Thailand fits my Bohemian soul.  That said, I love that my organic work has crossed into the mass-media influenced candy industry of the United States.

Andy Warhol was definitely on to something.

Pop psychology

I’d like to think that Rorschach would be proud to know he had reached cultural iconic fame with his ink blot artwork.  Being immortalized by Andy Warhol in the art world is no small honor.  

Rorschach by Andy Warhol, 1984.

Interestingly, the ink blot was eventually used to test for creative thinking.

When I look, I don’t see a butterfly or a delicious dessert.  My ink blot always looks like an island I need to visit one day.

So, tell me, Artist, what do you see in your life's ink blot?  I promise not to analyze anything you might say in the comments below...

Barefoot in a Sneaker Wave

Better get your trench coat

From 16,000 feet deep in an under-water ravine to the crest of an 8-story thundering wave, the coast of Nazaré, Portugal has a magnetic pull.  In the churning Atlantic water of Praia do Norte, hard-core surfers, and spectators alike, plunge into the wild world of big wave surfing.  In fact, in November 2017, Brazilian surfer, Rodrigo Koxa, broke the world’s record by flawlessly riding this massive 80 foot wave, honoring a life-long passion.

First and last time on a surfboard in 8 inch surf at Praia do Madeiro, Brazil, 2010.

Northern exposure

Later that same month, 25 degrees north of this famous breaker, lying face down on a rocky beach along the Strandir coastline, I encountered my own booming breaker.  Fingers numb in the gusting wind, I howled, “never turn your back on the ocean” -  a saying my kids have heard me utter many times.  Placing my second ice installation within feet of crashing waves, my travel mate, Chris, kept eye for any monster swell that could sweep us away.

Dried leaves embedded in ice installed on the Strandir coast in the Westfjords, Iceland.  The tiny black thread near the top left side of the ice is my glove, sticking relentlessly to the frozen piece. Thus, bare hands were required to install!

In absolutely no way were we facing the danger of Nazaré, but chasing my creative dream pulls me back to the ocean time and time again.  What power do these wild waves have over my journey, and how do I make sure I’m not turning my back on the surf in front of me?

Facing the churning sea in Djúpalónssandur, Iceland to install blue pea infused ice.

The Big Kahuna

Duke Kahanamoku, the father of modern surfing, is credited with coining the famous phrase that keeps us facing seaward.  Both practical and philosophical, this saying teaches us two important life lessons about the power of the ocean:

1.     There are significant physical dangers of being hit by a wave.

2.     Mankind needs to show deep respect for the sea.

Humbly, I’d like to offer one additional lesson to be learned:

3.     The wave coming could be the ride of your life!

Rising temperatures and rising tide at Kirkjufell, Iceland means melting ice...fast!

 

v = f x λ

Waves as a metaphor for artistic creativity is perfectly suited.  Many of us have had times brimming with unbridled imagination and surging productivity.  For each crest, however, there is a trough, a quiet time…the lull.  Without one, we can’t have the other, so I’ve gingerly embraced both, experiencing the drought before the flood.

Silk thread orb installed at the driest place on Maui:  Haleakala Crater.

Roll with it

Today, facing an expressive tsunami, however, I am feverishly grabbing at each medium that pokes out of the rushing water.  Ice, resin, paper, fiber, adhesive, wax, paint and canvas are all bobbing about my studio.  While I could be drowning, each one plays an integral part in this wild ride, one supporting the other in ways I can’t begin to understand.  But, that is okay – I trust the process.

Glitter infused adhesive domes melting in the Hawaiian heat.

I have to - these are my life-saving floaties.

Making waves

So, if today's story is about ‘The Big One’, let’s dive more deeply into some of the ways we choose to describe a tidal wave, creative or otherwise:

• Sneaker Wave:  Well, as we already determined in my last blog, sneaking has its perks.  With creativity, it can pop up at any time, without warning, and pinch us hard.  I say it's better to laugh than cry.

Abaca installation turned upside-down in San Antonio, Texas.

• Killer Wave:  Yet another negative description, but how many times have you used it to describe something extraordinary?  If you get out there, showing up every day, I guarantee you will be killing it.
• Rogue Wave:  When creativity hits, I urge you to ‘go rogue’ in the full Urban Dictionary sense.  Don’t follow the rules.  Let your heart lead and do what feeds your soul.

Nobody gave me permission to do this installation.  The only formal invitation I received was from Mother Nature.

• Freak Wave:  So, Rogue, go listen to the lyrics of ‘Come from the Heart’ and dance like nobody is watching!  As one of my favorite contemporary artists, Nicholas Wilton, would coach:  create art in exactly the same way.  Flying your freak flag is what makes your art uniquely yours.
• Extreme Wave:  Not for the faint at heart, when creativity comes calling, push yourself as far as you can, all the way to the edges of your comfort zone.  I promise, you won’t fall off.  That’s where the good stuff hides.

Blue pea and red cabbage infused ice installed near the outer edge of Ögur, Iceland.

I met a Cyclops in Ghost Trees

If the names for waves weren't scary enough, what about swells being creatively called Jaws, Dungeons and Mavericks?  What do these mega-wave meccas have in common with Praia do Norte, or the crazy 'artist' who chooses to play in the 'surf'?  At these beaches, to ride the Big One, tow-in surfing is not a luxury, but a technological necessity.

Yes, it means having a partner in crime, someone who understands the fierce power of the ocean and pull of passion, and is there to help propel you safely through the choppy waters.

Guess we should add one more life lesson to The Big Kahuna list above:

4.  Never swim alone.

Chris, partner in crime, soaking seaside after a long day of ice installation in Drangsnes, Iceland.

On the very same island as Jaws, Chris stood watch with the surf pounding against the lava field at La Perouse Bay while I swiftly placed the last of my Maui installations.  Mouthing the words that have become my mantra, my partner in crime faced the waves by my side, keeping me safe while I dove in.

Feeling the ocean spray in my face while installing organically dyed dough at La Perouse Bay in Maui.

Passion Fish

My sleep is often filled with dreams of crystal clear tidal surges that I manage to negotiate perfectly with a surfer’s ease.  The trick I've learned is this:

Dive straight into the face of the wave before the crest crashes.  Passion is on the other side.

Tell me, what do you dream about?  Jump into the comments below - the water is perfect!

Why I put the ice in Iceland

it's cold out there!

In the deep darkness of December, thirteen impish little guys cause all kinds of ruckus across the frosty heaves of Iceland.  These pranksters, the Yule Lads, spend the holidays swiping and gobbling their way through the night, sneaking treasures into the shoes of children, both naughty and nice.

Welcome sign to the Dark Fortress, home of the Yule Lads

Warming his stiff legs by an open fire, I was lucky enough to meet my first Yule Lad in 2013, Stekkjarstaur in Dimmuborgir among the snowy lava spires.  Something magical was in that flame, sparking my inner elf and awakening the mischief in my creativity.

Meet Stekkjarstaur, a.k.a. Gimpy, and my travel buddy, Chris.  What an incredible surprise to stumble into a Yule Lad hiking in a lava field in the north of Iceland!

What tiny gems can I leave behind for the wide-eyed and young at heart to stumble upon unexpectedly?  A sparkling surprise for just a tiny moment before lacing up their boots and moving on?

Ice...obviously.

Gold leaf embedded in ice, installed in a snow drift in Suðureyri, Westfjords, Dec 2017

Medium rare anyone?

My love of ice as an artistic medium is longstanding, maybe born from:

• Holiday seasons growing up when my mom would freeze pine needles and holly berries in an ice ring for the spiked punch bowl?
•  Watching icicles form through a frosty window, one tiny drip of water at a time, only to melt in exactly the same way?
•  Climbing snowbanks to pluck them from the roof’s edge and enjoying nature’s homemade popsicle?

Icicles falling from a rooftop in Bolungarvík, Westfjords

If childhood memories primed the pump, discovering the ephemeral beauty of Andy Goldsworthy’s site-specific land art sealed the deal.  His creation of exquisite artwork made exclusively of organic materials, only to be exposed and lovingly manipulated by nature’s fingertips, is at the core of my artistic inspiration.

I was hooked…ice hook(ed) to be exact.

Installation is my insulation

In my second year of art school, in the frigid climate of Montana, I placed my first ice installation.  Studying photography, I opted to embed Polaroid transfers from a trip to Russia, in hopes they would blow away when thawed, perhaps found or lost forever.  But, it was the deep carmine flower petals frozen in the ice blocks and the crimson pigment outlines acting as their pedestals that felt pure to me.

Hitherto, ice installation by Margaret Byrd at the University of Montana, Nov 1994

Exactly 23 years later, my second ice installation was created, placed and thawed in the most enchanting polar landscape I’ve been lucky enough to explore:  Iceland.  More than twenty icy art bundles were scattered across the Westfjords and Snæfellsnes Peninsula, left behind to let Mother Nature collaborate in any way she felt fit.

Who am I to argue?

Ice embedded with berry, installed in situ at The Blue Lagoon, Nov 2017

Out of control

As artists, we may never have full control over our medium.  If we hang on too tightly, we can squash creativity, wonder and the excitement of discovery.  Perhaps I hide behind the delicate property of ice, allowing its inconsistency to be the twinkling star of my work?

As solid as ice in my hand

Regardless, the breathtaking moment I open the freezer, seeing how the water has transformed and the crackling magic of the unexpected is revealed - this is why I come back again and again.  My heart skips a tiny beat to see how the infused material dances with the water on their icy date.  It's not unlike peeking into your shoe to see what morsel was left behind by a roguish Christmas troll.

Great balls of fire...no wait, ice!

Sneaky Pete

So, that brings us back to the mischief in this tale.  If my desire to leave small marks of visual candy has an altruistic tinge, the devilish side of this artist is also smirking ear to ear.  I mean…I run around (sometimes stumbling), uninvited (typically), probably on private land (some of the time), defacing nature (sort of) and littering creativity all over the place.

Sounds like graffiti to me!

Peter was my confirmation name.  Why?  Because it means 'stone'.  I knew even then!

If you look up ‘sneaky’ out there in the virtual world, there isn’t much with a positive twist.  Seems in general, sneaking around is kind of frowned upon.

But, I’d like to reframe it for you:

• Sneaking treats from the cookie jar is absolutely expected, no matter what age you are.
• Sneaking around your neighborhood on a sweltering night playing flashlight tag is how every kid should spend the summer.
• Sneaking out to meet your lover is downright romantic.

Chris and I on the last day Súðavík saw the sun for six weeks, Dec 2017

Sugar and spice and everything nice

You see, sneaking any kind of ‘sugar’ is kinda sweet.  Just ask any of the Yule Lads!  They are sneaking into my comment box every night...