Ladders (continued)

Construction of the Ladders structure was phase one of the piece.  The second phase has been painting and adding canvas strips.

The process reminded me of the work my grandmother used to do repairing the seats of her kitchen chairs.  She lived in a small, two-room house across the street from us when I was growing up; one room was the kitchen/living room/sewing room/library and the other was her bedroom, which was just large enough for her bed and a small dresser.  My grandmother moved to her tiny house from the farm after my grandfather died in 1952.  She lived there alone for the last ten years of her life, although she was rarely alone.  As I said, she lived across the street and one of my aunts and an unmarried cousin lived next to her.  On an adjacent lot was another adult cousin and her family, so my grandmother’s house was almost never empty.  On Saturdays and Sundays, some combination of aunts and uncles and cousins always visited and my grandmother spent the rest of the week sewing and cooking in preparation for these invasions.

My grandmother had suffered an injury to one of her hips at some point, which made it painful for her to walk or stand so she spent most of her day sitting in her wicker rocking chair, cutting strips of cloth from old dresses, shirts, sheets and any discarded material she could get from the family and friends.  In addition to the chair-seats, she also used this material to weave rugs, coasters, and place mats.  The strands of material were carefully braided and sewn together, making them very strong.  My process is much more fragile and not intended to be utilitarian.

I painted both sides of a 24″ x 36″ piece of canvas before cutting it into strips.  I found that when I had finished painting, I was reluctant to cut the strips; I liked the overall piece I had done and considered stretching and framing it as it was.  However, that was not the creative intent at that point, so I went ahead with my plan and cut the canvas into strips of varying width.  I forgot to take a photo of the intact piece.  Probably just as well.

With the exception of some touch-up painting of the structure, I have one more process to add to the piece.  I’ll share that with you in a subsequent post.

Ladders

I began working on my new organic sculpture this week and plan to unveil it on July 4.  Our neighborhood is just a few blocks from the city park and we usually have hundreds of people parked on the streets here, so it’s a perfect venue for exhibiting my yard art.

The process this year started with the deconstruction of a couple of last year’s “Trellises.”  Here’s how one looked at the end of the season.

Here’s part of the deconstruction

and deconstruction of the canvasses that were part of the sculpture.

Since last year’s project started with the idea recycling of yard waste, I decided that this year’s piece should continue the recycling by using last year’s art in a new form.

After deconstruction, I started assembling the parts of the new project.

and purchased a new tool that really speeded up the construction process:  an air compressor and air gun.  It works like a charm and I’m thinking about other ways to use it.

Here are a couple of shots of the new components of the project…

And here are a couple of shots of the completed structure.

The next step is to reconstruct the canvasses and add them to the structure.  That is today’s task.  More later.

Be careful what you ask for…

When I titled this blog “Let the waters come…” I wasn’t requesting that that happen.  But over the last few days, I’ve discovered what that phrase can mean in the real world.  Since last Tuesday, I’ve had over 13 inches of rain at my house, a good portion of it in my basement.  I suppose it’s partially my fault for not taking care of the crack in the basement wall that I always suspected was there.  The rain, and resulting mess, kept me from getting started on my latest organic sculpture, which I am hoping will be ready for unveiling on the 4th of July.  Stay tuned and ask the rain gods to hold off a little bit while I get my piece completed and installed.

Checking out and checking up

The cover of the monthly magazine
displayed at the counter
along with gum and candy
breath mints and tape
has a photo of someone of whom I’ve never heard
but I’m now privy to intimate details
of her marriage, divorce, children and
most important
the secrets of her diet and health

Each month brings a new celebrity
who had been just an ordinary person
the month before
well, ordinary is a word
that may not apply exactly to these
fungible beings

Upon what does fame these days rest?
not intellect, of course,
though there are those
who show a blaze in unexpected ways;
not good deeds done out of sight
of camera crews, discovered reluctantly
and owned the same;
not gentle souls that teach
our hidden thoughts to sing

Fame’s the same as yesterday
in Wilde(r) days when
truth was only told in merriment
and gossip was the currency of choice

Bazaar

Arrival
the line of vans advances
to surrender contents:
boxes, cartons, hope
it moves 
and stops
and moves
and stops
all smiles:  “hello, nice day”
“you’re here again”
“good luck”
“please hold the door”
“now which way?”

Space
tables
some draped and ready
most just anchored by the sign
proclaiming future tenants;
find the space
and sigh

Discrepancy
I think that table’s mine…
you’ve built your pyramid
I’ll just find another site;
no ray in this dark quarter
I’ll move to section three
if that one fails to show

Arrange
all planned ahead
each item has it’s space,
the diagram left at home
holds the key;
now improvise
and hope it brings the crowd;
the cords won’t reach
so strike the slides,
too much for this event
no doubt

A Customer
an early sale
an omen for the day?

Lull
a short parade
balloons held tight aloft
move swiftly past
and disappear;
we are spectators
with our creations
fixed, unmoving

Flurry
did someone raise a gate?
the flood approaches;
a steady stream
of change,
desire, analysis,
bartered terms,
declined reluctantly;
lyrics waxed
returns to look;
the purchase wrung and wrapped

Lull
the crest is past
now time to think
a nap may nudge the clock

Conversations
“her kids have flu”
“we sold the truck
and bought another bike”
“the house was new
but needed work;
we 
tore it down and got
the mobile home”
“my daughter thinks
this job is dumb”
“just two more hours now”
“the market isn’t good this year”

The Close
the last transaction
melts away
a memory;
time slows
and slows
and slows

Dismantle
the sudden rush to pack
spreads through the hall,
as if a silent bell had rung;
the entry weight has lessened
slightly
not as much as hoped,
the change is tallied
and like perfect shots in sports
suggests a future win

Departure
the line of vans advances
to collect spare elements,
residuum of hope,
it moves 
and stops
and moves
and stops
wan smiles:  “next time?”

The bicycle club

they flash by like
many-colored fish
creating the currents
they seek

leaves rustle
barely
as the gam*
finds its pace

we stand and marvel
at the force
but know
it’s not for us
they ride

*Gam has a variety of meanings, including “a leg” which certainly has relevance here;  as part of the marine metaphor, it can mean a school of whales, dolphins or porpoises; and, gam can refer to a social meeting, which is part of the experience of cycling in a group.

We’re on after the cheese

Andy told us confidently
we’d all have our fifteen minutes of fame
but that was 1968
when the population of the world
was only 3.556 billion
it’s 6.793 today
so each of us only gets 7 minutes and 51 seconds now
to make our mark on “American Idol”
or “So You Think You Can Dance”
or “The Biggest Loser”
and when we do
it’s Oprah and Tyra and Ellen
if we are lucky
Chad will sell us a house in Malibu
next to someone who has already had
their 7 minutes and 58 seconds
because the world population was only 6.789 billion
a week ago