Resolution: Stages of Making

And just like that we are here. You are here. I am here. We are here together in these words.Where are we? you may ask.And of course you may, because to assume we’re all in-the-know tilts us toward wobbly footing. And what we need in the midst of prolonged and on-going confusion, aka everyone’s first pandemic, is not wobbly footing. Rather what we need is a moment—one calm, centered moment where we do not wobble...much.A place where for the full count of One-MiSsiSsiPpi, Two-MiSsiSsiPpi, we find our feet, take a deep breath and stand steady.Where is the here we’ve come to? Here is Resolution.

Defining Terms

For the past three years of art school, my brain has swarmed with ideas. Some of these ideas settle and gather language like pollen and turn that into something I'm eager to share.One idea that has become sweet and golden I call my Stages of Making.Like the stages of emotional development or the stages of grief, the stages of making are not linear or tidy. But neither are they so amorphous as to evade naming and definition.


The Stages of Making look like this—

A Beginning

Something tangible births the beginning of a work of art. We are drawn to glass, found wood, or fabric. Or we feel curious about a process: printing, casting, assemblage, sewing. This is a visible beginning.There’s also the starting place that is invisible: the concept. Simply put this is the feeling or idea that you wish to convey. Family, the environment, order, loneliness, harmony.I shift through these starting places—material, process, concept—when I begin my work. And quite honestly, there are pieces I’ve made for which I could not name what came first. I paused for a breath and realized I was well into the middle of making.

The Middle

Also known as The Process, the middle is my jam! Explore! Experiment! Cast soap. Wait! Cast glass. Make one piece. Make multiples!Obstacles of every kind arise in this messy middle. But problem-solving here is not a burden when we remember to return again to a place of trust: Trust the process.As a conceptual artist, I have several approaches to my work. Some pieces begin with detailed sketches or a vivid story. But often I work intuitively responding to what calls out to me. I may start with an idea or a material. Either way, once in the process stage, my goal is to flow and be open to inspiration.Here's an example of starting with material rather than concept: I rescued an interesting piece of wood from a wood lot. The piece ended up in an arrangement for a critique. But the result was less than thrilling.[gallery columns="1" size="large" type="slideshow" ids="6218,6223"]The wood-shop instructor suggested that I let the wood just hang out in my studio space.Listen to the wood, he said. See what it wants to become. Let it talk to you.This made sense to me. The piece sat in my studio some times in this corner, sometimes on that cart. I moved it to make space for other work; I lifted it, became familiar with its weight, shape, measurements. In time it spoke.As a sculptor, process involves patience and my body. Lifting investment molds from the kiln, standing at the spindle sander, or tightening clamps to glue layers of plywood in place. I revel in the physicality. I also feel worn out by it.[gallery type="slideshow" size="large" ids="6221,6219,6220,6222" orderby="rand"]Process can be draining. But compared to the final stage it's as easy and satisfying as making stove-top popcorn.

Resolution (An Ending)

The final stage is, for me, the most difficult. It comes with a trifecta of tough questions.

  1. When is a piece finished?
  2. What is the title?
  3. How will the work be displayed?

(Note: When I entered this stage with my newest body of work it was mid-March of this year. Just before my campus shut down and I had to leave my work in the studios. So there was the added question, How will I finish the work? This Q is for another time.)
The answers to these questions emerge through patience and persistence. When everything comes together, it is a beautiful beautiful thing!
The Sweet Spot

For question 1, I’m a Total Goldilocks-Fail. Done-ness—the point of just right—is illusory to me. I'm  too close to my own work for perspective.The danger of overworking a piece so that the art is buried, lost, or even destroyed lives stunningly close to its opposite: stopping too soon and producing work as engaging as a box of hair.I want my work to land in the thin space between overdone and unresolved, or viewers will feel confused or simply not care.

Untitled (not)

Plenty of artists fall back on the option Untitled to answer question 2, but this choice is an opportunity missed.A title is a chance to invite, surprise, give a nod toward intent, or hint at purpose. Unfortunately, my tendency is to over-explain and turn titles into didactics. I’m working on this. I'm happy to report a few glimmers of improvement.

Presentation Matters

Painters, printers, photographers, and other 2-D artists have many ways to display their work. Most common is to hang work on the walls.For a sculptor, the possibilities are myriad. I value options, but there can be too much of a good thing!I cannot tell you how long I’ve spent trying various methods of presentation for a single piece so that it sings. Build a stand. Create an attached base. Make a light-box. Place the piece on the floor, on a plinth, outside on the grass.


Enough of the stages for now. Because, as noted in the opening lines, we are here. We have arrived together at Resolution.The resolution of what? The journey through art school.I’m still pinching myself to be sure I’m awake. Yes, I am. Yesterday afternoon, I received my eDiploma for my terminal degree. Which is nothing like terminal in most other word combinations.Not only have I brought a body of work through the stages of making, I have emerged from a making process myself. This process of Self making is unending, but for now—whew!! Digital portfolio signed, sealed and delivered. Work approved. Images uploaded and formatted for viewing.

Save the Date

September 1, 2020, 4pm--5:15pm (PST) The Art & Design Department of California State University, San Bernardino will host the online opening of three solo MFA Thesis Exhibits. Mine is one of them. The work will remain on view forever, or as long as the internet lasts which ever comes first.On September 1st, it goes live and I will have a 15-minute presentation about my thesis project. You are invited to the presentation, but if you can’t make it, no worries. You’re invited to view the show at your convenience.When you do take a peak, look for the found wood. See what it whispered it wanted to be.

Here We Are

And so we are here. Resolution. This is where we are.I’d be tickled if you’d stand with me and take a deep, grateful breath. One-MiSsiSsiPpi, Two-MiSsiSsiPpi.Many thanks for walking with me.Do you wonder, What comes next? Me too!! I’ll write all about it here, so if you're already on board—Woo Hoo! If not, fill out the fancy new Subscribe pop-up. Thank you!

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To Grieve & To Mourn