mondoarena

Healing - Wall Temples

2011-02-02T22:13:00.000-08:00

I have been trying to reconcile the academic, spiritual and artistic sides of myself of late. I find myself reading about Astrology, String Theory, Alchemy, symbolism...my head is swimming. And I want some element of functionality as well...to create objects that calm, that heal, that give a sense of hope and purpose.
A composer can create a piece of music that pulls at the energies of your body, making the back of your neck tingle, stirring the pot of your emotions, making you glad to be alive, even in your sadness. I am striving to arrive at interactive art that emulates that experience...something reciprocal...imparting a sense of calm using light, color, shape...these are some initial attempts.
When I am working with clay, my worldly concerns tend to vanish. Maybe this is ironic since I am working with the stuff of the world. The financial woes of an artist, the long but necessary hours of isolation do not seem to matter much.

Alchemical Jar

2010-08-20T22:26:00.000-07:00

This piece was quite labor intensive, a result of my burgeoning interest in alchemical studies and symbolism.

Nordic Inspirations

2009-12-05T16:42:00.000-08:00

I am surrounded by books at work, many of them dealing with Scandinavian art. It seems to be influencing my ceramic work as I have taken to decorating vessels (mostly covered jars of late) with Nordic inspired designs and symbols. This centerpiece on this jar is my rendition of Thor's hammer.

My Little Green Friend Comes out for a farewell

2009-10-08T15:22:00.000-07:00

A few months ago while working on some pots in the yard I noticed a tiny little specimen staring at me. He was less than a 1/4" in length and seemed to spin his head around whenever I moved. He then took refuge inside of one of my goblets and stayed there for many hours.
Since then I have seen him while I am working from time to time, lurking around the oregano plants by my potter's wheel and coming around the table while I work on my glazes. I hadn't seen him in a while and am moving to a new place tomorrow, and today he (or she?) came out in full splendor, a full grown praying mantis.
The first time I saw one of it's kind I was a child on a train in Connecticut. It was on one of the seats which everyone avoided. It frightened and fascinated me.
I will honor this little critter by including his image in some of my upcoming ceramic pieces.

2009-09-17T23:39:00.000-07:00

An amazingly bizarre and perpetually eating creature...I remember the first time I saw a tomato bug, I thought it was perhaps an alien species. I picked up a leaf to gently prod it, and discovered it was a dense and muscular kind of bug. It reared up at my gentle touch.
I like his segments, fake eye patterns and suction feet.

Mug Madness

2009-09-09T21:04:00.000-07:00

It's been a busy day at the wheel. I was throwing with porcelain today. When I take a break from it, it always insists that we get to know each other again.
A few weeks ago I took out a book from the library about how to do a multitude of crafts. A few pages were dedicated to ceramics. It being a book from the seventies, the standard shapes were different than what we might see in a modern day manual. The shapes of earlier decades seem more welcoming to me. So much of our functional ware is cold and straight...they lack bellies and lips. It usually takes a potter to create a favorite mug...the variant weights...the way our fingers fit into the handles...just how much coffee or tea fits into the vessel.
I think I will make tomorrow a day for stoneware...another feeling underneath my fingertips.

Plight of Monkey Mind

2009-08-26T12:42:00.001-07:00

There are those blurry days where things don't always makes sense. The particular structure of our days...why do our habits become so particular? Why do we tend to choose the same chair when we sit down to eat? Why do so many of us wind up doing things for a living we are ambivalent about or downright despise?

Perhaps I can attribute today's sense of fuzziness to my much interrupted sleep. Outside noises, temperature fluctuations, monkey mind and disturbed dreams.
No one wants to hear our dreams. Our excited and confused ramblings can never capture the bizarre activity of shrinking and flying through someones ear, turning into a cartoon character and plummeting through outer space. The horror of the alien attack in last night's slumber cannot be relayed over morning coffee, nor the oddness of having a miniature man holding one of your teeth for ransom in a painful game.

There are discarded wrappers from hastily consumed protein bars on the desk in front of me. I can't help but take stock of time as I run through household products. A carton of eggs, a pack of toilet paper, a box of q-tips, batteries. How long did I have that box of 180 q-tips that I just tossed in the trash? How many things have occurred? How have I grown? Am I more jaded? Am I a better person?

The posted drawing is a section of a piece I called "Brain Cell #5", a name I used to have for the particular mental state we all find ourselves in on occasion.

Scent of my youth

2009-08-06T16:09:00.001-07:00

My childhood smells like hair care products...perm solution, hairspray...it smells like carbonara sauce, bread, smashed tomatoes and garlic, and sewing machine grease. I remember the smell garbage cans full of hair, hair dryers, tea tree oil shampoo.
I hear the sound of clippers and the rapid snap of scissors, crunching through the hair squeezed between my father's fingers...my mothers scissors working their way through thick drapery fabric.
I see the toy chest in the garage and smell all the leather of my brother's sporting equipment. Baseball gloves and balls, footballs, basketballs....
I see my sister at attention on the volleyball court, the polished floor the color of a buttery acorn. She looks serious and fierce, like someone you can count on...even if you don't know her so well.
I see myself sitting in the bleachers, on the bench, a sketchpad in my hand, my head down, occasionally victim to a foul ball...but usually someone caught it just in time. My head is down and I am drawing. I smell the honeysuckle growing wild and remember sucking on the flowers.

"I can see your knickers" small creamer and thoughts on making things with clay

2009-01-10T01:55:00.000-08:00

I'm working on a new series of ceramic vessels. They are thrown with English porcelain and then altered to take on a few human characteristics. They wear panties and petticoats, sweaters with pockets and buttons and have a distinctive gender.
They are fully functional pieces as well as sculptural. Having spent most of my life doing drawing and painting that takes upwards of twenty hours to complete, I was initially over excited when I got a hang of the wheel. I threw cups, bowls and pitchers by the dozen, but didn't give each piece it's due. I was excited to have discovered this medium that offers instant gratification. But after a while, I began to appreciate its capabilities.
I took a year off from ceramics, focusing on 2 dimensional work and when I recently returned to it, it was with a fresh perspective. Now each piece is precious and worth hours of sculpting and careful underglazing, worth infusing with a unique personality.