Permaculture Love

If you are a friend or relative you have heard me say this alot lately.
And I mean A. L. O. T.
"I can't, I have to paint 'The Cello'."
As a matter of fact, even if you are a total stranger I've probably mentioned 'The Cello' in one context or another. It has consumed a goodly portion of  my thinking and time these last four months.
And now it's finished. Finally.

And because a picture is worth a thousand words, here are several thousand words worth... and then i'll be back at the end.

a blank canvas...

zone one

the back forty

evergreen wood and amphitheatre, coppiced wood and underwoodsmans workshop

field of grain, berry patch and orchard

vineyard, stone fruit orchard and nut grove

... herb spiral

ancient apple trees

and a hill for sledding!

an overlook point

a nutgrove with grazing cows

coppiced/pollarded willow growing by the stream

keyline pond, living willow fence (fedge), chicken tractor, beehives, hugel kulture and of course

the sheepfold

This labor of love combines my passion for Permaculture design, and my delight in drawing detailed landscape site plans allbeit this time on a rather unique and unexpected 'canvas'. And instead of my usual pen and ink, its acrylic paint, permanent marker, colored pencil and a little glitter thrown in for good measure.

The Cello is being auctioned as part of a fundraiser for the Vermont Philharmonic Orchestra.

you can get there from here:

http://www.biddingowl.com/Auction/home.cfm?auctionID=3126&CFID=5850293&CFTOKEN=96646765

Please, somebody, go, start the bidding!

(and then, go play in the snow!)

love, as always-

susie

Starry, Starry Morning

at the YMCA in Burlington.
A fun time was had by children and adults alike...
and the stars were brilliant!

I am available to do willow weaving/making workshops geared towards children or adults at your school, farm, library, community center, church, art gallery or anywhere! Email to schedule an event! susiej.gray@yahoo.com

Inspiration...

I have been kinda nose to the grindstone for a good long while now working on various projects, substitute teaching as much as humanly possible and painting a cello...

Yes. You read that right. I did say painting a cello.

More about that later...

Awhile back I made a deal with myself to visit, at least once a month- a sculpture exhibit, art and craft gallery, glassblower, potter, blacksmith, weaver, quilter, photographic exhibition, theater production, concert- to practice really 'seeing' and 'listening', and to appreciate the bounty of loveliness in this big beautiful world we live in.

At the same time, I also made a deal with myself to park as far away from whatever entrance I was heading to. Like, at the grocery store, to park way over in the farthest space in the farthest row. Even in the winter. And to always, always bring my grocery cart back to the store entrance, or at the very least to those little designated cart corrals that have appeared in the parking lots these days. It is a very rare occasion now when I park close to the entrance and it usually has something to do with it raining and me not wearing rain gear. 30 below and snowing I can take.

I made these deals with myself, along with a few others mostly because I felt like my life was passing me by. That I was too caught up with 'getting everything done' on my 'to do' list at the expense of enjoying the actual life I've been given.

Oh yeah. And what about my health? When I am plowing across a snow-covered parking lot in a blizzard, (having parked away over yonder) I am actually appreciating the fact that I am alive and well and walking on my own two feet... (well, okay, more or less-wink ;-) and being thankful for my muscles and even the snowflakes (especially the snowflakes) that insist on landing on my glasses even though my head is down.

The point i'm trying to make is despite the fact that at times all the news seems bad and that pain and suffering abound, there is still so very much beauty and genuine goodness in the world too-we just need to train our eyes and hearts to see it and listen for it.

So I said all that to say this.

I recently kept a promise to myself and visited the Shelburne Museum. I particularly wanted to see the exhibit, In New Light- French Impressionism Arrives in America. A small collection of the works of Edouard Manet, Gustave Courbet, Mary Cassatt, Edgar Degas and, one of my absolute all-time favorites, Claude Monet.

That picture above, I love. It's a Monet entitled, Grainstacks, With Snow. How could I not love it? It was painted in Giverny. 1891.

When I have the opportunity to look at paintings I like to see them from a distance...

but then, I like to take my glasses off and get right up close when i'm not in anybodys way, and look at the brush strokes, colors, signature... all the details...

I do wish that picture was in focus... still don't have the hang of taking pics with the museum setting when flash is not allowed. But, can you still see the abundance of colors?! I was in awe. It made tears come to my eyes. There I was with my nose two inches away from a famous painting by my favorite Monet.  That he painted in 1891.

1891 people.

That was a long time ago. 123 years to be exact. Think of all the ways our world has changed. For one, who stacks grain like that anymore? I wish someone would.

(Actually, a little aside... outside of the Art gallery building where this exhibit was hung, some highly creative person(s) had made two separate pairs of pseudo grainstacks out of straw and chicken wire. Awesome. I think it said something like Vermont Straw Creations... I don't find anything when I google that though. If anyone knows who the artist(s) were that made the present day grainstacks at Shelburne Museum, please let me know!!)

It was a wonderful, inspiring and fun day with an ole pal from my college days.

That exhibit is gone now, but, I challenge you to go take in some art or creativity of your own choosing in September, and please send me a note here, maybe i'll go too!

Now, back to the cello...
with love, as always-
susie

Butterflies and Zentangle

Dig those butterflies!

Here they are close-up...

Not the most in focus picture in the world, but hopefully you can see that they are a bit 3D.

I do substitute teaching (AKA 'supply teaching' in England). During the school year I sub in the classrooms at various schools in the area and then after school, and vacations I am a sub for the Y programs.

This art project was a combined effort by myself and Julia, one of my little charges, at the Y summer camp at Thatcher Brook School in Waterbury, VT. She made the awesome butterflies. Drew them free hand, cut them out and colored them. While I did the 'zentangle' drawing.

Zentangle art is a fun way to doodle really. Filling spaces and shapes with patterns. It requires no particular artistic skill and is very relaxing. A good way to silence the sometimes relentless chatter in my head (that little voice that finds it necessary to remind me of every last item on my 'to do' list-or my long list of failures... you know the one i'm talking about?!)

Good too because all you need is a single mark making tool- pencil, pen, marker, crayon... and something to make marks on like the ever popular piece of paper or the back of an envelope... a napkin (one of my very favorite especially when paired with a fine felt tip pen)... your leg... a piece of fabric... a wall even!

A stick and the expanse of sand at a beach works too.

There are times, in the midst of an art project when I seem to be getting nowhere fast, and the end is nowhere in sight.

It's like I imagine writers block must be like.

I need to stop. Walk away.

Times like that I will often get a pen and paper, and do a little doodling to restore me.

True, there are times when more is required...

Like a cup of tea.

Or a walk.

Or a nap.

Or all of the above!

But doodling is one of my 'go to' things when I need to reset my brain.

So. Try googling zentangle images and have a look at all the wonderful little pieces of artwork that pop up!

For me, it's back to the drawing board...

till next time.

Love-

susie

Standing Out

I was pleasantly surprised yesterday to discover my name mentioned in Pamela Polston's Art Review in Seven Days. I've pasted the article below for your reading pleasure...

Standing Out: EXPOSED Helen Day Art Center

click to enlarge

Every summer for the past 23 years, the "Exposed" outdoor sculpture exhibit has transformed the village of Stowe from a tourist town to ... an artier tourist town. Whether visitors come specifically to see the artwork is impossible to determine, but Helen Day Art Center's Rachel Moore — for the past four years the show's curator — would like to think so. "People look forward to seeing it," she says. "Our vision is to make it a destination." While Stowe is home to a number of galleries, Moore posits, "Exposed" is "the only really visible display of work" in town.

"Exposed" definitely merits a visit on its own, and — from the town's point of view — so much the better because taking in all the sculptures could entail a walk or bike ride on the excellent rec path, browsing in the shops and dining at a downtown café. You'd think the town would be underwriting the exhibit for its tourism-enhancing value. Not true. But, Moore points out, "This year and last they've given more support surrounding safety" — meaning that town engineers pitched in to help secure and stabilize each sculptural site.

      

click to view 8 slides

Those are significant issues when it comes to public art. Moore acknowledges that in the past, "people have vandalized, tipped over and even stolen" works from the exhibit. That probably explains why more sculptures are sited along Main Street this year and fewer on the more secluded rec path.

Moore concedes, too, that the current exhibit has fewer pieces than last year's — 18 sculptures compared with 25 in 2013 — although the numbers have fluctuated over the years. The curator notes that she intentionally limited the selections to maximize the quality and the artists' geographical proximity. "It's an enormous expense to create, bring, install, maintain and de-install the work," Moore says. "We can't afford to offset all of that." Helen Day's funding comes primarily from individual donations; this year, Petra and Stephen Levin also underwrote "Exposed."

As Moore declares in the show's accompanying catalog, "the sculptures in 'Exposed' are fewer in number [this year] but grander in scale." She doesn't necessarily refer to size; few pieces in this year's selection are outstanding in that respect. Rather, Moore writes, "More than ever, the public art is a call to connect."

That's true, for attentive viewers. While some of the sculptures are more assertive, such as the bright-red steel projectile/pyramid titled "Beginning" by Judith Wrend, or the amusingly interactive "Pendulum Face" by Oliver Schemm, some of the most "connecting" pieces in this show are easy to miss.

Case in point: Jodi Colella's "Reliquary," nestled in the branches of a tree on Main Street. This multipiece installation consists of "man-made objects composed into anthropomorphic bundles, each painted to simulate bronze statues," writes the artist. Half a dozen balls of what might be yarn, fabric or rope rest in the tree's main bough. Perched on a branch overhanging the sidewalk are several assemblages of household objects; pant legs dangling from one of them imply human presence. This entire collection seems like a memorial to domesticity, ordinary yet rich, and discovering it in a tree is a unique pleasure.

Susie J. Gray's "The Sheepfold," made entirely of dried, woven willow branches, sits on a patch of grass between the gallery and Main Street. Inspired, Gray writes, by traditional woodland crafts of England, she created a three-sided "hurdle," or fence, inside of which stands a single sheep. The whole thing is child-size, a scale that evokes a sense of playfulness even in grown-ups.

Incidentally, Gray's 2013 "Looking East, 6 Degrees North," a cozy woven-willow enclosure along the rec path, is the only sculpture in "Exposed" to have been allowed to remain year-round. "The town loved it," Moore explains. As such, the piece is the sole example of environmental art — the kind that is left to return to nature — in this outdoor show. That's a curious lack in an exhibit you would think might inspire site-specific work à la Andy Goldsworthy.

The only other piece in this year's selection that invites viewers to step inside it is far from "natural": Karolina Kawiaka's "Fractured Reflections" is a tall, rectangular armature of metal with random panels of aluminum mirror. It suggests a remnant of modernist architecture with a side of Modigliani — and flashes of your own image. But, regardless of materials, art that can surround you affords a more visceral experience than do pieces you simply walk past. Enclosure — whether perceived as comforting or claustrophobic — is a powerful thing.

Still, just looking can be rewarding, too. Claire Ashley's "limppunklovejunk" and "RUD" are huge inflatables of spray-painted, PVC-coated canvas. Positioned atop the Helen Day's porch roof and on the lawn, the two amoebic shapes look like they would galumph off into town if not held down with ropes. Ashley is successful in her goal to "create objects that engage in intellectual play." Her pillowy forms incite joy.

"Exposed" does offer serious fare, as well. Witness Gregory Bailey's "Prophecy," sited on Main Street. The cascading conical shapes look like bronze but turn out to be fiberglass painted with bronze powder. The artist's theme, however, is still heavy: climate change. "Climate scientists have received a prophecy, via data-collecting devices, including satellites orbiting in the heavens," Bailey writes. "Is it possible that we are ignoring a divine communication?"

Yes, it is certainly possible. But until the climate apocalypse, we'll continue to appreciate the messages of art.

INFO

"Exposed" outdoor sculpture show, Helen Day Art Center, Stowe. Through October 15. helenday.com

Horn of Plenty...

Other wise known as a "Cornucopia".

Heading over to Wikipedia for a second...

"The cornucopia (from Latin cornu copiae) or horn of plenty is a symbol of abundance and nourishment, commonly a large horn-shaped container overflowing with produce, flowers, nuts, other edibles, or wealth in some form. Originating in classical antiquity, it has continued as a symbol in Western art, and it is particularly associated with the Thanksgiving holiday in North America."

Last week, while my favorite underwoodsman John and his trusted apprentice Jake were weaving willow to their hearts content as resident 'medieval' basket makers during a re-enactment at Arundel castle in England (www.arundelcastle.org/), I spent one afternoon sipping iced chai tea (yes, with cream) on a breezy front porch across the pond in Vermont, doing a little willow weaving of my own...

and voila. 

A cornucopia!

This is one of the first smaller, basket-like pieces I have designed, and made... all by myself. And I am well pleased with it!

I am very excited to say, that I will be doing a bit of teaching starting this fall at the Helen Day Art Center in Stowe, Vermont!

My first workshop will be Saturday, October 11th and we will be making a cornucopia, more or less like the one pictured above.

I have a couple other slightly different designs in mind too, and hope to make and sell them this fall... somewhere in the Green Mountains of Vermont.

If anyone has any ideas about where, please send me a note!

Oh my gosh! It's almost time for tea!

until next time...

susie

Raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens...

Bright copper kettles with warm woolen mittens,
Brown paper packages tied up with strings,
These are a few of my favorite things.

Cream colored ponies and crisp apple strudels,
Doorbells and sleigh bells and schnitzel with noodles,
Wild geese that fly with the moon on their wings,
These are a few of my favorite things.

Girls in white dresses with blue satin sashes,
Snowflakes that stay on my nose and eyelashes,
Silver white winters that melt into springs,
These are a few of my favorite things.

When the dog bites, when the bee stings,
When I'm feeling sad,
I simply remember my favorite things-
And then I don't feel so bad.

(music and lyrics by Richard Rodgers & Oscar Hammerstein II)

Now, that is a song to cheer up a soul, isn't it? I was reminded of this because we've been having thunderstorms and rain, rain, rain the last couple days.

In the movie, The Sound of Music, it is during a thunderstorm that Julie sings this song to the children, to calm their fears.

I was reminded too, because January in England we had record breaking rain, (it was the wettest January in recorded history, I do believe).

We sang this song alot... at least some of us did.

Okay.

It was me. I did.

And Romain too, not so much for the sheer joy as for the fact that it was stuck in his head.

Apparently his kids had been watching the movie over and over.

And over.

Being the nice guy that he is, he let me borrow the movie.

For several months.

And I suspect it still might be sitting on the window sill in John's shop, where I left it for Romain before I came back home in May...

Funny thing... The Sound of Music reminds me of home when I am in England... and England when I am home.

And so... back to this blog post.

A few more of my favorite things... some of which are not things at all... they're people...

Having opportunity to spend time with, and be in relationship with, well, my relatives (!) and also people from different countries and backgrounds and belief systems is by far one of my most favorite things on earth.

Recently, my nephew and niece were visiting from Cali and we got to spend an afternoon together wandering around Stowe, checking out the EXPOSED 2014 sculptures.

If you have a chance yourself, please go. The exhibit is organized so you can collect a map at the Helen Day Art Center and do a self guided audio tour.

All the sculptural works will be on display until October 15th.

You've got plenty of time!

While we were there, they wanted to see my piece from last years EXPOSED, which is still standing.

It really tickles me that people like this place of shelter enough that they continue to go there to sit and reflect, or have lunch, or drink a cup of tea or have a chat... the ground near the log seats continues to be worn by so many feet, it is just bare earth.

And some folks do more than sit, they actually interact with the structure in visible ways. The day we were there I noticed that someone had tied blades of grass together, making delicate ropes, and had tied them onto the inside of the structure, one on either side.

My picture does not really do it justice.

This really made my heart sing. Thank you to whoever felt lead to sit a spell and add a bit of your creative self to the structure.

And then. In case my heart was not full enough already. Lookey here...

morning glories... in all their splendor. Somebody loves me... that's all I can say.

And a couple other pics sent by friends visiting my piece. Dawna.

and Ron... looks like he has spotted the grass rope...

So, there you have it...these are a few of my favorite things!

Will you please take a moment, right now, to think about a few of your favorite things?

I would enjoy hearing from you what they are... or just hear from you!

Love-

susie

Three Hurdles and a Sheep

The Sheepfold 
EXPOSED 2014

Helen Day Art Center

www.helenday.com

90 Pond Street

Stowe, Vermont, USA.

July 12-October 15

Opening reception and walkabout with progressive Hors d'oeuvres
July 12, 2014

4 pm

Somewhere around the middle of March, while I was still in England I learned that my proposal for another woven willow piece made the cut for EXPOSED 2014!

I was, once again stunned by the news.

This is no small potatoes for me you know.

It is big. Really, really big!

So. After I got over being stunned, I got excited. Then nervous, because it meant alot of work to do between the time I would get back to Vermont at the end of May, and installation at the end of June.

My proposed piece was a sheepfold. So I would need to locate enough willow of the right sizes to make some hurdles and a sheep... cut the willow, find a place to work, lug the willow there 'work the willow up'... and make jigs.

All that before I could actually begin weaving!

You might have heard me talk about 'working the willow (or hazel) up' before. Or maybe you haven't. It's definitely an underwoodsmany term. Essentially it means getting the small trees you've harvested into a 'ready to use' state. You do this by skillfully removing all the side branches that will get in the way when you try to weave it, or split it or make a stake out of it.

Technically, this process of removing the branches is called snedding; in an English woodland it is done with a billhook, and you start at the base of the tree and work your way up towards the top.

(Secateurs and loppers will suffice in a pinch too.)

Maybe this has something to do with why we call it 'working it up'?

Maybe it doesn't.

I did locate enough willow  between Morrisville... Waitsfield... Jericho... Essex, and discovered (thanks to Bernie) that my back car seats fold down! So, I can fit quite a bit of willow in my 99 Chevy Malibu and can even fit 10 + footers in, sliding them in thru the trunk and all the way up onto the front dash!

I've got new admiration for my little ole car!

I spent a day with my brother Lee cutting down the willow and alder encroaching on his driveway. He and his chainsaw made short work of cutting the trees down, then we spent the afternoon together in the shade, snedding.

It was fun spending time with my big bro!

Kathy and Bernie donated 2 rough cut 1X6's and Lee spent a morning with me drilling the holes for my jigs.

After all that prep work was accomplished, it was me, nose to the grindstone weaving willow to my little hearts content.

I started with my sheep...

She took shape quickly, and I was just so into the sheer pleasure of it, I forgot to take pictures.

And then, I was done!

"Rose" spent the next couple weeks drying on the front porch in Jericho while I got on with the hurdle making.

That's my little ole car loaded up with willow from my brothers house. And then, on the way home...

a moose in the field!

the willow...

the tools...

(ouch! I just got a serious pang of homesickness for England posting this last picture... I remember like it was yesterday the day JW dug around in the landrover and came up with that yellow tape to reattach my cushiony 'tennis grip' to Betty's handle... it was a cold, rainy day in Bushy Wood, November or December during my first visit to England in 2011! JW, myself and another volunteer, Nick were coppicing hazel...

I realize a normal person probably wouldn't long for cold rainy days in the woods. So. You have found me out then. I have a brand new red cushiony grip thing to replace this old tattered one... just haven't been able to bring myself to do it.)

and my cozy little work space under the old apple trees at the Duncans...

And then, before I knew it it was June 29th.
Installation day...

details...

The whole rod hurdle... the white weavers have had the bark removed... it was the absolute perfect time of year to peel the bark. Came off easy as pie. Man oh man. I could peel bark til the cows come home. Saving the bark for something special... tell you about that another time.

baa baa black sheep...

I am pleased to say all three hurdles turned out straight (enough) and sturdy... I do believe the underwoodsman would be proud of me.

Heartfelt thanks to the following human beings:

Rachel Moore, curator of Exposed along with Katharine Longfellow, Nathan Suter and the rest of the folks at the Helen Day Art Center.

The jurors: Samantha Cataldo, DJ Hellerman, Amy Rahn.

Kim Komer and LCCD, Dinsmore and Leo, the Connerty's, Duncans and Grays, for their show of support, allowing me to harvest willow, and helping in numerous other ways.

My 3 big brothers.

And, of course, John, my favorite underwoodsman (and his trusted apprentice Jake) in England. For sharing the days and work with me for the goodly part of six months, during 'Episode II-the sequel'. I miss you guys a ton. Every single day.
And my other British accented peeps too, who helped make it possible for me to even be in England... and fed me curry on a regular basis...Tina, Duncan, Julia, David and Maddie...

"Oh my gosh! Look at the time! It's late..."

posting with a heart full of love and gratitude-
susie