Mischief in the living room

drawing by Eleanor Beard Hatton

I spent some time on Christmas day thinking about my great-grandmother, who spent a lot of time thinking about love.

Two works from the Columbus Metropolitan Library 2013

Art Unbound: an invitational   Oct.21-Nov.21 2013  

"CARBON"

My daughter, Elena, collected a bin full of books from the library loading dock that were destined for recycling.  I couldn't be there to get them myself.  I had had an idea and I asked her for some hard bound editions, roughly the same size, and she gathered all the Reader's Digests (among many other books).
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FaW8tzo9iWg

Those editions were destined for an experiment at turning books into bio-char.  Bio-char is a way of using charcoal, by grinding it up and digging it into the soil, to improve the soil's nutrients and its ability to retain moisture.  It is a way of recharging the earth so that the carbon of life can be productively reused.  It seemed right to me that if trees give life to these pages of our cultural wealth then we should return those pages to the soil for new wealth.  The work is called "Carbon".  Though I know that burnt books have emotional impacts well beyond their constituent materials it is a recognition of that shared constituent that I am after.

"PEBBLED VOLUME"

The first book I worked on, from the crate of books my daughter brought me, was a hard bound edition whose size, shape, and content called to me.  It's title "Inside the Third Reich" promised so many emotionally conflicting themes.  Could I make it into an object of quiet reflection on the passage of time and the possibility of wisdoms gained?  I must thank my daughter, who identifies as Jewish though I do not, for her thoughtful gathering of materials for me to use for this show.  This was an opportunity to think about contemporary violence in the world and Albert Speir's warning about the danger of individual power, especially combined with the exponentially more lethal weaponry that technology has placed in our hands.  Time and a river's pebbling of rock point to a gentler way of shaping the shards of our angers.

Situating Food / Food for Thought

Banvard Gallery October 9 - December 31, 2013
Knowlton School of Architecture, The Ohio State University

The flesh of the cantalope is gone.  Only the lace of its rind remains.
The worms are gone.  Only traces of their meal and their presence remain.

Handmade paper with cotton placemats, sewn to wood panel, plexiglass,
and polished walnut frame.

Vermiculture Furniture Design - Spring 2013

This was an exciting experiment in workshopping ideas about bringing a living decomposer ecosystem into the human domestic space.  Wonderful group of Ohio State University students, two of whom worked extra hard to put this book together.  Check it out!

http://issuu.com/wormsinourfurniture/docs/vermibook


With a small contribution from me (below)  and amazing work on everybody's part.

                                             Crochet and Compost

                                                     
Soil

The sibilant 's' slides quietly into the open oil
of a liquid landfall.
A slight growl pushes air into what is round
beneath the feet.
Ground.
The dental stability of final sound an anchor
on planet underfoot.
But here, the liquid.
Soil.
No labial pout, no punctuation.

So much for definition.

Worms turn in the soil of our syntax,
enriching excrementally
the nature of our understanding.
All lips and liquid boundaries.
Mouthfuls of earth in endless periods.
This life.  And this life.  And this life.

A surface of soil, at midpoint to tree,
cushions the foot.
Some surface in a plowed field sucks at the boot
and removes it.

Some surfaces slip inside and under.
Feet sink into surf.
Toes splayed in mud and sand grow no roots.
Attempting, though, a pirouette,
Striking some balance of the awe-struck.

Material Metaphor - An Inquiry (2008)

Journal Project 1997 -2000