IT IS WHAT IT IS

tracks in the snow

Six inches of snow in the night. Cold, dry ice crystals make the slightest incline slippery. I went out to take seeds to the birds and slipped every step. Took a walking stick to feed the donkeys. Jenny wanted to smell it, feel it with her lips, take it with her teeth, thinking it might be something to eat, the handle the size of a carrot. I've carried a stick among them enough for them to know the stick is not a threat. I don't hit them or threaten them with it. It's for my balance. The donkeys stayed in their den until I went out to deliver their morning hay. Snow on the ground shows me the exact spot in the stream they go to for a drink of water. Later in the day I looked at their meadow from the road, saw the trails to and from the watering hole. They walk on trails. The meadow has trails going every which way. I find it curious so many of the four-leggeds walk the same path until it becomes a trail and remains a trail from then on. In the years I went on long walks through mountain forest, I walked on deer trails. It doesn't take long to find one. The other animals use their trails too. I've seen cows make trails, and now am seeing donkeys make trails. I wonder about trails in their original habitat, northeastern Africa, and see them everywhere. I think there are five hundred, more or less, of the original donkeys left. The people there eat donkeys and live in post-colonial poverty. The donkeys will last about as long as the mountain gorilla, the African elephant, the polar bear, the fish in the sea. It won't be long before the humans have a chance to learn how to exist on a dead planet, the ideal we've been aiming toward collectively throughout my lifetime. It's not just the corporate fisheries emptying the oceans, it's also the people eating fish in restaurants all over the globe and at home. Me, when I buy a tin of sardines. 

new project

My mind has relaxed from the rush of visualizing construction of the new project. I've written about the construction itself, though have not yet mentioned purpose. The construction is a three-legged stand to suspend a rock above the ground. Initially, the three sticks of wood were the aesthetic consideration without the rock. I wanted to lean three lines together such that they would hold each other upright without supports or any kind of hardware. Three boards, two notches, done. Ideally, in a place it would never be touched or swiped by a dog's tail. My test was to stand three lengths of wood in relation to each other, supporting each other. It has to do with a present fascination with triangles.  Every way I look at this model, all the way around it, it makes triangles. The white line that holds the elements together, itself makes a triangle. All the way around it I see three triangles, including the white line. I don't care if someone looking at it fails to notice the triangles, which are there for aesthetic structure of my own, it's purpose, it's reason for being. A lot of people get through their lives without understanding the meaning of life. In like manner, some will see the triangles a theme, some will not. The rock is there for the weight, to keep a tension in the single line of quarter inch white nylon rope that holds the legs in place, to pull the three boards tighter together, an assist to free-standing, the downward pull of gravity. The rock's role is purely functional. A bowling ball would do. But I like a rock better. The rock becomes the focus of interest framed by the stand that holds it aloft. Since living in the mountains, I have come to see every rock, itself, a piece of sculpture made by God, by way of chance and experience, Like snowflakes, no two are alike, even gravel in a driveway, big rocks dynamited from a bigger rock, ground by rock-crushing machines into small chunks. 

new project

In my own personal symbolism, I think of a straight line, a square, masculine, and a curved line, a circle, feminine. For several years I painted round things in square and rectangular frames. Balance. I mean masculine and feminine like in languages, le and la, I think of a triangle the blend of a square and a circle, the child of the square and circle, a balance of both. First, there was one, then there were two, and from three onward it's infinite. Three represents the many.  In this construction I'll call Hanging Rock, the straight lines of the boards and rope make a network of masculine lines to frame and support the feminine, the rock, Mother Earth. I think of lines as mind, the conscious mind, and the rock the subconscious mind, feeling, intuition. The mechanics of this project is the masculine aspect, cut, measured and fitted together by mind. The suspended rock I'll call the subconscious, the force holding conscious mind together, the feminine, gives shape and definition. Therein I find the balance of masculine and feminine, le and la, in a simple object of rock and wood. Therein is what I'm saying in the piece, balance, the feminine and masculine, the yin and yang, interdependent, one whole. My first consideration for something outside where several people will see it, is to make it as interesting to a man's eye as to a woman's eye. Call something art and the men in the world I live in pay it no mind, see it without seeing it. The women will give it a chance and look at it aesthetically, liking it or not, say, Somebody might call it art, but I don't see no art about it. I want both the man's eye to see it and the woman's eye to see it. They will see what they see, art or not art, but they will see It, call it what you want. Calling it Hanging Rock will relax the mystery of what it is. It is what it is. Plain.  

jack and jenny, yin and yang

My feeling is the masculine eye will see the mechanics of it, all the mechanics out in the open, part of it. I feel like the man's eye will see the boards, treated 4x4s, familiar, masculine, as well as the way the rope holds the thing together and suspends the rock. The rock will be familiar to the masculine eye. No what-is-it mystery about it. It's three boards, a rock and a rope. I feel like the feminine eye will see the whole without much interest in the mechanics. And women appreciate rocks, largely, in aesthetic ways men largely don't see. The rock suspended provides a point of tension for everybody. It's a subconscious feeling that a rock does not belong in the air. A rock belongs on the ground. A suspended rock plays with the automatic assumption from a lifetime of experience that a rock belongs on the ground. If someone were to ask me what it's supposed to be, I'll only be able to answer, it is what it is---three boards, a rock and a rope. My feeling is kids will like it. I gave one of my favorite paintings to the library, red, yellow and green bell peppers, asking them to hang it in the children's section. I wanted the kids to see it. I like for kids to like my paintings. A kid liking it tells me it's real. My first clue it is attractive to the masculine eye was Justin liking it, taking an interest in the mechanics right away, raising and lowering the rock, getting a sense for how it works. Aesthetically, it's cool with him if I want to call it art. I can call it anything I like. He'll call it three 4x4s, a rock and a rope, which is how I want him to see it---it is what it is. There is nothing it is supposed to be. To my eye, it is triangles and a suspended rock, what it is. I wanted it to say something about the mountains. That it simply is what it is, not pretending to be something it aint, just plain, is mountain as a fiddle tune. 

shadow on the snow

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CONCEPTION OF A NEW ART PROECT

jenny

Went out in the morning to take carrots and hay to the donkeys in two degree air and a quarter inch of fine, dry, slick, crystalline snow. Rhododendron leaves were hanging straight down curled up tight as green pencils. Donkeys danced and squealed, brayed, bumped each other, snorted. They took the carrots like they'd not had anything yet to eat, remains of yesterday's hay covered with snow. They stood in their shed waiting to hear the Ice Cream Man's footsteps in his barn. By the time I reached the window where I could see them, they were walking out of their den and stood at the fence looking at me through the window. They were cold to the bone. I could see it in the way they slam-danced when I went out the door. It was different from usual; their movements were tighter, fluid, though not warm fluid. In motion by force of habit, too excited to stand still. They may be able to take it, thick hair makes a good blanket; below ten degrees is cold even wrapped in a polar sleeping bag. Both had a good mood about them. Donkeys are, indeed, rugged. I threw hay over the fence for them and returned to my barn. Made some Ethiopian coffee, settled in, read a few pages of Chris Hedges, and called Carole. Mostly I talked about my new project, an outdoor sculpture, explained it and the construction in detail, visualizing as I talked, She helped with some questions, was encouraging, as always. An hour of talking about it, I visualized the process of construction, building the big outdoor one and the small model, while we talked, back and forth, not just one way. Talked with Justin yesterday, told him I need his help on an art project. I really do need his help. It will take some carpentry skills I can do a rough version of, but he can do right.

new project

An hour of talking with Carole about it, feeling like Christo and Jean-Claude, a minor likeness, collaborating in the conception, walking through the process in our minds' eyes, making aesthetic and construction decisions together, I built it in my mind. It was done. Now is the time to start. We got off the phone and I started setting up the small plywood board handy for a table top on the footstool. Found a strip of some fir standing in a corner, just the right length for the three lengths of wood. Put a new blade on the hand-jigsaw, fir is some hard wood for driving nails in, sawing or drilling. The wood for the project itself will be square. The wood for the model is rectangular, eliminating making an exact replica at the beginning. Didn't want to make the model exact. Let it be itself. The bigger one to be made on the same principle, not exact. Needed two stove bolts, four eye-screws, two small s-hooks, string and a rock, all of which could be found in a collection of bolts, screws, nails and so forth. Looked around at rocks I have laying about and found a white one like the big one I want to use. Got out the drill and the extension cord, ready to go. A puzzle where I make the parts as well as put them together. Justin dropped by to use his pickup to bring six bales of hay from the barn to the donkey feeding station. I went out to assess the path to the barn hoping the snow would allow me to pull the car down in the hole and get out. I saw  his truck at the barn and felt blessed. We stacked the hay and put the tarp over it.. He came to the house for a cigarette and I told him the project, showed him the model and asked for some counsel on using treated wood. He said treated wood costs about a tenth of untreated. He said the hardware stores in this area, forty mile radius, have to special order untreated wood.  He said the treated wood takes three or four months to dry out, to let the moisture from the treatment escape the wood or no paint will stick to it. He said it will reject the finish put on before the drying process is completed.

new project

It's looking like the first one will go up raw, treated wood. The blue-green tint of the treated wood, is, after all, what it is. I'll buy the wood this week or next and start the drying process. It looks like June before the wood is ready for finishing. Thought I might buy wood to make two of the objects, put one together right away and save the other to put together later using paint. I might want to make two, anyway. The first one will have to be raw wood. I actually like it better for the unfinished aspect of it. We talked at length about securing it to the ground, considering the time or two a year a big wind comes through, the rock could start swinging and swing the construction out of balance, collapsing it. He suggested putting each of the three legs a foot or more into the ground. Great plan. However, I added I'm not sure about digging holes in a lawn to be refilled when the thing has had its day. I brought up driving a length of re-bar a couple feet long into the ground at each foot. He suggested drilling holes in the end of each one to drive the re-bar through. He knows somebody who can cut and shape the re-bar to specs. Bringing his mind into the project is a practical step. As I knew he would, he appreciated the mechanics of the thing and sees exactly what I want. I feel a little bit like Ai Weiwei, hiring craftsmen to make his art objects he doesn't have the skills or knowledge to make himself. Justin answered in a short time my questions about the construction and how to do things, like cut the notches, I can only do approximately, and he can do exact. He will make the construction's mechanics artful. The joint where two pieces of wood fit together will be a tight fit, and the angle of the holes drilled for the bolts will be right.

justin puts on his winter over-hauls

I like associations with my friends where we help each other as needed. I've known Justin all his life, we've been friends since he was a child, like I'm friends with his girl, Vada, now. He knows I can be trusted with his baby girl from all the times I baby-sat with him and his sister, Sheena, and being his adult friend all the way through his childhood. He needs help with something I can do, he's got it. I need help with something he can do, I've got it. No questions of why, just when. He won't let me pay him for this. We don't accept pay for helping each other. I have full confidence the finished product will be done right by somebody with a good mind and experience with carpentry. He could build an entire house by himself, though would do it like a contractor, hiring helpers for specific jobs. If I make two, which I think I will, if one or both are sold and I make a modest amount of money for them, I'll give it to Justin. I'm in balance with my fixed income, and it's not so easy for him and Crystal with a house, day-care, jobs, utility expenses, insurance, vehicles, on and on. All problems are solved toward the project. It's now a matter of when the snow clears and the temperature rises above freezing. He will go with me to select the wood. Justin has known me an artist, painter, all along his way. He is having fun with the idea of helping me construct an art object. It's important for me and it's important for him, each in our own ways. When it comes to naming the artist, I'll use both our names, a collaboration. I like the idea of making two. I know I can move one of them on right away. The second one will be painted. Original idea was to paint it. Then I liked raw wood better. May put the second one up at home. Now that I've committed my mind to the first one raw, I like it even better with the bluish tint in the raw wood impervious to the ground and rain. Won't even sand it. Use it straight off the lumber rack. I feel like a surfer who found a good wave, standing up on the board, flowing with the groove. .

here comes the snow

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