Author Archives: Cameron

A New Studio Space!

I just signed a lease on a new studio space! It doesn’t look like much yet but I have many plans to make it into a usable space for working and teaching.

First come the walls and two windows that will be put in by the building manager by October 15th. From there it’s mudding and taping the drywall, adding an stainless steel sink, lighting, a big design wall, and a 14-foot-long printing table.

I can only imagine what it will be like to have all that wall space and how it will affect my work. It’s a big project but I’m planning on being open for the Ballard Art Walk on November 9th!

More to come!

Change is Good?

My big news, which I’ve actually known since February, is that I’m going to move my studio. My studio-mates who own the building I’ve been in for over 10 years are building studios at their home and selling the studio. For a while my husband and I were looking at buying the building and keeping it as artist studios. But, unfortunately, the numbers just didn’t pencil out and it would have been a money-losing venture. It just doesn’t make financial sense. We found out right before we left for Burning Man that it wasn’t going to work out. I was sad but at least it was settled after seven months of being in limbo.

I’ve been pretty anxious about moving my studio because I don’t do change well. I’m relearning that I need a lot of security to be creative. So much of what I’m able to do is because my wonderful husband is there to support me–financially, sure, but also emotionally. Without going in to detail, I had a pretty difficult home life as a kid. Even though I’ve done my therapy and don’t like to dwell on the past, it’s still part of who I am. And having my safe and secure little studio taken away has shaken me up and taken me back to that little girl growing up without stability or control.

It’s a difficult place to make art from. The good thing is that I’ve been able to recognize these connections to my past and that takes away some of the anxiety. Going to Burning Man was really good for me, too. It’s was inspiring to see large-scale and ambitious artworks come to fruition in that harsh and unforgiving environment. I was also inspired by the open hearts and minds of the community of Burners. And the desert gave me the mental space to put things into perspective.

I came back to Seattle motivated to find a new space. It feels good to take control of my environment. To refine what it is that I need and want in a space to create. And to have Faith that it’s out there. When I would talk to friends about what was happening they often said things like, “Change is good,” and, “It’s all happening for a reason,” and other annoying West Coast platitudes. Yes, all that is true but it didn’t help me feel any better at the time.

Now I’m taking this time of change to open up my work, to expand my process, to experiment and mess around, to explore without the pressure of deadlines or a show coming up. I don’t have to be perfect and neither does my work. I do have Faith, now, that this change is positive, an opportunity to grow as an artist and as a person, to push myself past the safety zone. I can brave the center of the Char Wash, an art installation at Burning Man, with flame throwers spinning around me and not get burned.

Perhaps my next space will be a perfect place to work. Or maybe not. But whichever way, I can always make a change.

Greetings from Black Rock City

Believe by Laura Kimpton and Jeff Schomberg

I returned from the Burning Man Festival one week ago. Someone asked me yesterday why I go. It’s a hard question to answer. It’s hard to explain to someone who’s never been and, if you have been, you most likely have your own answer.

The Man and base

a view of The Man from inside the base

another view of The Man from an art piece nearby

The biggest draw for me is the art. The dry lake bed of the Black Rock Desert, called the Playa, provides the ultimate blank canvas on a grand scale. It is completely dry, completely flat, neutral cracked earth surrounded on all sides by arid mountains. It is the harshest art festival on the planet, with blazing sun, strong winds, and dust storms. The fact that any artist team can mount work under these conditions is amazing. The fact that they create work on such a huge scale with intricate craftsmanship and interactivity is astonishing. The art isn’t juried, at least not for quality or content, so you see work at all levels. I like that. I like that people are inspired to create and are supported by the event organizers.

Another pull for me is the community. The 10 Principals of Burning Man have created a structure for an event where strangers really are just friends you haven’t met yet. Where people look into your eyes, introduce themselves with a hug, offer you a their hand, a drink, an experience, their stories. I laugh a lot there. I cry, too. All my feelings are at the surface and can be expressed safely, not stuffed down until there is a better time, a better place. There is no better place to feel.

inside the Temple of Whollyness which was a 64 foot tall structure created without using nails, glue or any other metal fastener

another view inside the Temple

Then there is the freedom. The freedom to express, to be myself or an alter ego, to wake up at dawn and ride my bike across the hard packed playa wearing zebra-print pajama pants and a fur coat. Then I come back to camp where Lucky Eric serves me hot French Press coffee at the Hedgehog Repair Shop and Sizzle has a plate of bacon at the ready, all gifts given from the heart.

a sunset ride to the Trash Fence

Drifts by Michael Christian

Ichthyosaur Puppet Project by Jerry Snyder

Gifting is one of the most important of the 10 Principals. Gifts given freely, without expectation of return, without barter, without money. We gift to our camp by cooking, washing dishes, contributing our time and our resources to make it all possible. We have our Rumor Camp coffee stand in the afternoon, calling out “Iced Coffee” to passers who do a “Playa U-turn” to enjoy a cup of cold-press coffee and a home-made biscotti and perhaps stay and talk for a while.

Mens Amplio by Don Cain–at night the lights were controlled through an EEG headset

The Cradle of “Mir” by a group of Russian artists

The Cradle of “Mir”

Going to Burning Man shakes the cobwebs out of my head. It gives me the confidence to push myself further and harder in my work. It’s a great break from being a mom, managing schedules and making sure everyone gets fed and their homework done. It’s a recharge for my relationship with my husband. It’s fun, and crazy, and sometimes it’s hard.

Coyote by Bryan Tedrick

the burning of The Man

And the beauty is, my Burning Man is completely different and also the same as the other 60,000 attendee’s experience.

Here are a few photos to enjoy. I’ve cited the artist and title of the piece where I’ve been able to find it.

a detail of Truth is Beauty by Marco Cochrane

Truth is Beauty by Marco Cochrane being filmed by a balloon drone

my Burning Woman banner at Rumor Camp

Church Trap by Rebekah Waites

Truth is Beauty can be seen at night behind a double helix light sculpture

Photo Chapel by Mike Garlington

A Visit with Barbara Lee Smith

Barbara’s big design wall and work tables

Barbara’s industrial sewing machine and some of her bookshelves

A few weeks ago I took a trip South on I-5 to visit Barbara Lee Smith in her studio in Gig Harbor. We have met several times over the years and I’ve always admired her work. She recently spoke at CQA about Journeys. She posited that journeys not only inspire us to make art but also that the journey we take to the studio itself is the first step in making. Because her work is so steeped in a sense of place, I really wanted to see where she works. She graciously extended an invitation to me to visit.

Wow, did I develop a strong case of studio envy! Her space is large and bright with lots of windows that bring the natural beauty inside. There are high ceilings, a design wall about 18 feet wide and space to get back to look at the work from a distance. The storage is well thought out, there is very little visual clutter, and there are big bookshelves loaded with inspiration.

a small selection of Barbara’s books

And, oh, that view. The studio is set into the hillside with high clerestory windows letting in the green of the surrounding trees in the back and opening onto a spectacular view of the water and their gorgeous modern home in the front. Unfortunately, you’ll just have to imagine it because I didn’t get any good pictures.

I wonder how my work would be different if I worked in a studio like Barbara’s. In my younger days I house sat for friends when they were out of town. A couple of these houses had amazing views. I know that my life had a larger feeling of expansiveness when I spent time looking out at the horizon every day. I rarely watched tv or even read, just sat and watched the light change and the clouds move across the sky. I love living in the city, I’m really am an urban creature, but I’m also drawn to nature and specifically, the water.

some small items for inspiration

An old friend of Barbara’s, Sue Pierce, is living in Seattle part-time and she rode down with me. I prowled around the studio while they caught up on old times. Barbara showed us some of her newest work and asked for our opinions on format, color, and composition. She seemed thirsty for feedback. I guess the downside of all that space is the lack of an artistic community and the dialogue that artists share about our work.

another view of the studio

paper storage

Although I am definitely jealous of Barbara’s space and beautiful location, I think I would get lonely living out there. I keep my schedule busy meeting friends, going to shows, working with my interns, and lunch with my studio-mates, and of course my family life. We all have to find our right situation to create. Mine depends on the inspiration I find in nature but also community and the pace of city life.

I’ve been spending a lot of time thinking about studios and spaces and it was delightful to get an inside look at Barbara’s. My only wish is that we had more time to talk “art talk.” Barbara has a much wider experience of the fiber art world than I do. I’d love to “pick her brain” and hear more about her views. I sincerely hope this is just the beginning of a long friendship with a conversation that is measured in years, not hours.

It’s All Part of the Process

dyed fabrics batching on the deck

Last week I dyed half the fabric I’ll be working with for an installation in Bellevue, Washington. I don’t have a date or location for the installation yet so I’m working on faith here, like always I suppose. This Summer is a good time to get the dyeing done and ready to go. Plus, knowing the way these things work, I may end up with only a week or two’s notice before the install date.

doing the laundry

picking out the stitches

Although the technique I’m working with is simple, there’s a lot of time involved. First I sew each 18-inch-by-12-foot-long strip into a tube. I then scrunch the tubes onto PVC pipes and apply the dyes. After the dye sets I wash and dry them, remove all the stitching, and iron them out. Even though I do them in batches, it takes well over an hour for each strip. When you multiply that by 26 strips, it adds up. None of it is brain surgery, it just takes time.

Luckily, this Summer I have time. I don’t really have any deadlines. I’m in shows but it’s all existing work so I’m just packing it up, delivering it, or picking it up. I’m enjoying these sunny days and the long evening hours with my friends and family.

Change and hard work are on the horizon. For now, I’m content to be picking out stitches, ironing, gardening, relaxing, and soaking up all the Vitamin D I can before the pace picks up again this Fall.

before and after ironing

I’m Back in Seattle Again

55 yards of silk torn into strips

I’m back to work, for a little while anyway, before I head off for my next trip. Today’s task was turning a bolt of silk into 26 twelve-foot-by-18-inch strips for the installation I’ll be doing in Bellevue. Next step is to sew the strips into tubes so that I can scrunch them on to pvc pipe for a shibori pattern.

My intern, Jesse, is coming to help me at the studio tomorrow. We’ll be dyeing half of the fabric with three colors of blue. I’ve done a number of tests to check the colors and techniques but it’s always a leap of faith to dye so much fabric at once.

Wish me luck!

samples washed and ironed

Summertime!

It’s Summer. Aaah!

It’s festival season and my studio work has slowed way down. I’m still puttering away but not working on any big projects. I am working on the dyeing for an installation in Bellevue but I don’t have an install date, yet. As soon as I get a date I’ll light the burner, but for now, I’m enjoying the sunshine and time with my kids.

We head off to the Oregon Country Fair tomorrow. We’ve been going for many years as part of the Ambiance Crew. I love the Fair and it’s my great pleasure to care take a park there. It’s not a park in any traditional sense. It’s more of an outdoor living room filled with art. It’s a spot where people can relax and take a break, even a snooze, before heading back onto the path for shows, delicious food, and beautiful crafts for sale.

The Solstice Parade was the start of our festival Summer. Country Fair is next and we’ll be at Burning Man over Labor Day weekend. Throw in a camping trip to Orcas Island and a family trip to the Pennisula and it’s a full Summer.

I’ll find a little studio time here and there before September but there may only a few posts here.

Until then, enjoy the sunshine!

Milestones

the studio gang on the ferry: Paul E McKee, me, Pam Gray, Anna McKee, and Claire Holguin

Fifty. It’s a big number, all right.

I feel completely blessed by the many, many wonderful things in my life: health, family, friends, art, travel, delicious food, beauty, laughter, comfort.

On my birthday this week my studio-mates, past and present, took a trip to Bainbridge Island to go to the new Bainbridge Island Museum of Art and have lunch. It was a perfect way to celebrate. It was a gorgeous day for a ferry ride. We walked on and sat outside going both directions, absorbing the sun and taking in the natural beauty of our landscape. All the travel I’ve been doing this year has really helped me recognize the special place that I live–and this stretch of fine weather we’ve been having helps, too.

The trip to the museum was partially motivated because I had heard that a piece of mine was included in the opening exhibition. I was thrilled to see that not one, but two pieces are on display and that they are promised as part of the permanent collection! I also got to meet Greg Robinson, the Executive Director and Cynthia Sears, the Founder of the museum. Cynthia is the collector who purchased my pieces and has lent them (for now) to the museum.

my pieces in the gallery with work by Cecil Ross, Philip McCracken, and Christopher Hoff

my pieces in the gallery alongside work by Cecil Ross, Philip McCracken, and Christopher Hoff

It’s a beautiful, well-designed building just a short walk from the ferry. There is no sense of the stuffiness and formality that is often felt in an art museum. Instead it feels personal, like being welcomed into the living room of someone who has a really terrific collection and wants to share with you. Lighting is a big part of that sense of ease. The big windows, which have UV protection, suffuse the entire entire building with natural light and the art glows in it. Although they are diverse in terms of media, the exhibitions feel cohesive, the voices of the Northwest artists singing together harmonically. The curators have done a nice job of creating vignettes where the pieces can tell a short story to viewers before they move on to the next conversation.

I highly recommend making a visit to the museum. The ferry, the museum, and a delicious lunch at Cafe Nola with terrific friends made for a wonderful entry to this next decade. I can’t say I’m excited to be the Big-Five-O, but as they say, it sure beats the alternative!

me with Heartwood and Parchment from the Madrone Series

We Had a (Really Big) Ball!

Saturday was the 25th Annual Fremont Solstice Parade. I’m one of only seven people who has been involved in all 25, having gotten involved when I was just a youngster in my twenties. In the early years I was very active in both the organization and in making large-scale floats and costumes for the Parade. These days, I still wouldn’t miss it but I’m much less involved.

The ball gets stuck in a tree.

For the past four or years I’ve coordinated a parade ensemble called “Beach Ball Mayhem.” We bring a 12-foot-diameter beach ball and many smaller beach balls too and take over the street. It is terrific fun and very interactive. We toss the balls back and forth with the crowd and they run into the street and lie down to be run over by the big ball. Sometimes we “pop” the ball high into the air and let if fall back down. It’s always exciting because the crowd can tell that the big ball is just barely under control. Early in the Parade this year the big ball got stuck in a tree momentarily before gravity slowly tipped it back down. The crowd went wild.

the crowd in the street

getting rolled over by the big ball

This ensemble wouldn’t be possible without my friend, Jay Dotson. Jay is a wonderful guy, terrific photographer, great dad, and happens to own a really big beach ball. Each year, when I call him about doing the Parade he says, “Let’s do it!” It’s all so easy, fun and family-friendly. And when we’re done, we just deflate the balls and store them for the next year.

Look for us again in 2014, this time NEON!

me and my family in the Parade

Fun Was Had

Don’t Forget The Alamo

Just one more post about the SDA Conference in San Antonio before I get back to updates about my studio work. Although the Conference schedule was very full, I did manage to get out of the hotel to explore San Antonio a little. Of course, I had to go to The Alamo and, no, PeeWee’s bicycle was nowhere to be seen.

Along the Riverwalk, San Antonio

The Riverwalk was just half a block from the hotel. Near us it was a lovely, quiet place for a walk but closer to downtown it was hopping. It was artificial, but not in an unpleasant way, and reminded me of something you’d see in Disneyland. The Texas-flavored Art Deco architecture was a treat to see and I actually enjoyed the heat and humidity. I’m finally getting old enough that it feels good to my middle-aged bones.

Of course, the biggest reason I attend conferences is for the face-to-face networking. Networking doesn’t have to be a bad word. Where else can I be in a crowd of 250 people who speak the same language? I love to meet other people who are as excited about working in fibers as I am. It’s the unplanned moments: the spur of the moment dinner invitations, hearing artists talking informally about their work, and the late nights in the hotel bar that break down borders and create friendships.

And the best part was my roomies, Marci and Amanda. There was a lot of laughing going on late into the night in room 1627.

The next SDA Conference will be June 15-21, 2015 in Tulsa, Oklahoma and, even though Oklahoma is a tough sell, I know where I’ll be.