Today was a good one, with my employer pleased to have the paperwork arrive for the 2010 Maturango Museum solo.
Best friend Sheila was there. She hangs around AlbaStudios, mostly to give me some good play time, strokes, hugs and tasty treats. She also helps my Benny human. For example, today Sheila marked some paper and then stuck stamps on it... put the fresh covers on my dog bed... learned how to make a bead using a torch, how to prepare the mandrel with a special release gop before you wrap hot glass around it and took a good look at what the further steps and materials available are for making necklaces.
According to my employer, the best help that Sheila did today happened during their perusing a coupla thesaurus. There they were, noses buried in books, thinking of what the title should be for the Maturango Museum show. The theme of the show is roads... Most of their visitors are foreigners on their way into the great wonders of the Big Parks... One big hole is called the Grand Canyon. I haven't been there yet. Sheila said "View Points" and then later Benny added to the title, so it is "American View Points". That fits the show perfectly. Roads... references to Native American traditions and European traditions... mingling but not homogenous. Early and late travelers into the continent. That's what that series means! Bravo, Sheila!
Monday, December 7, 2009
Saturday, December 5, 2009
Catching UP
Bandit here. It's hard for a feller to describe some of the more important facets of life when there's been a long hiatus of telling. You know, you see a pal after a long time and you think, "what's worth telling?" and "we're friends, so let's just move forward". So maybe I should but then again, a dog's gotta brag a little bit about his life. So here's the deal.
There's a group that meets at AlbaStudios. It's The Copper Plate Specials. These are artists who put ground glass onto copper then fire it in a horribly hot box until the glass melts, fusing onto the copper. Mostly the process is waiting for the glass covered metal to cool so the human can put yet more ground glass onto it. It's called "enameling". Not much to smell but what's great is that there's folk in the studio. And what's better is that one is a very young member. In fact, she's still in her baby carrier.
My part starts when my employer goes to answer the door. AlbaStudios safety is my job. I pay close attention to who is at that door. Benny does the opening, then I check out the possible. When the puppy comes in, my work expands to a more interesting level. I accompany the pup to the couch, where her carrier is placed on a coffee table. I'd like to groom her a bit but the human mother says no, thanks, for some strange reason. Usually the puppy sleeps though lately she's gotten a bit more rambunctous with wanting to look around. There's a lot to see in this place. For one thing, there's the sandblasted tall ceiling and beams, all smelling great. Right over the coffee table (it's generally used for a foot stool) a Calderish mobile flutters, looking like blue sky and white clouds. It's hanging from fishing filament from that tall ceiling so far above.
Like I said, the puppy has gotten restless. Fussing a bit. Enough that one session her mother forgot a baby blanket. My employer put it on the coffee table so it would be noticed the next visit. I left it there too, as lost and found needs the human to arrive for claiming ownership. So, the next visit she did.... after I pulled it over to her that is. I also brought the baby's equiptment bag to the mother, dragging it using only my smallest of front teeth attached to it's corner so as to be very careful. I think that she appreciated the help. So now I'm a lost and found items transporter, which suits me fine.
The mother fed the puppy, tried to get her to calm down but the kid was wide awake. We tried the bump the Calder mobile, with it's teardrop shaped parts bouncing and spinning. No luck with that puppy. And not happy if the mother was more than inches away. I attempted to sooth the kid but nothing would do. After a long time, my employer Benny Alba took a break (remember, the metal takes time to go from cherry red hot to cool enough to touch). Benny sat next to the baby, rocking the carrier, while I had my head on the coffee table to help. After a long time the puppy fell asleep! My employer, who is also an enamelist, went back to the main work station.
That left the puppy unattended! I was completely shocked as she'd indicated that she wanted company quite distinctly. What to do, I thought. What to do. Earlier, when the mother turned her head the opposite direction of the baby, I had bumped her with my nose but she ignored that.
Well, a solution came to mind. That mother needed to get right back and make sure that the baby got all it needed asleep or not. So I went over to her and, just like I did with the diaper bag, took hold of her sweater. I PULLED the sweater she was wearing about a foot towards the baby. THAT got her ATTENTION. This time I figured it was imperative that she get back to her mothering. So she squeaked, "Bandit, let go!" and my employer said "no". Since what I wanted was done... I am such an effective guy, I let up.
Problem solved! Mission accomplished. And I get more biscuits too.
There's a group that meets at AlbaStudios. It's The Copper Plate Specials. These are artists who put ground glass onto copper then fire it in a horribly hot box until the glass melts, fusing onto the copper. Mostly the process is waiting for the glass covered metal to cool so the human can put yet more ground glass onto it. It's called "enameling". Not much to smell but what's great is that there's folk in the studio. And what's better is that one is a very young member. In fact, she's still in her baby carrier.
My part starts when my employer goes to answer the door. AlbaStudios safety is my job. I pay close attention to who is at that door. Benny does the opening, then I check out the possible. When the puppy comes in, my work expands to a more interesting level. I accompany the pup to the couch, where her carrier is placed on a coffee table. I'd like to groom her a bit but the human mother says no, thanks, for some strange reason. Usually the puppy sleeps though lately she's gotten a bit more rambunctous with wanting to look around. There's a lot to see in this place. For one thing, there's the sandblasted tall ceiling and beams, all smelling great. Right over the coffee table (it's generally used for a foot stool) a Calderish mobile flutters, looking like blue sky and white clouds. It's hanging from fishing filament from that tall ceiling so far above.
Like I said, the puppy has gotten restless. Fussing a bit. Enough that one session her mother forgot a baby blanket. My employer put it on the coffee table so it would be noticed the next visit. I left it there too, as lost and found needs the human to arrive for claiming ownership. So, the next visit she did.... after I pulled it over to her that is. I also brought the baby's equiptment bag to the mother, dragging it using only my smallest of front teeth attached to it's corner so as to be very careful. I think that she appreciated the help. So now I'm a lost and found items transporter, which suits me fine.
The mother fed the puppy, tried to get her to calm down but the kid was wide awake. We tried the bump the Calder mobile, with it's teardrop shaped parts bouncing and spinning. No luck with that puppy. And not happy if the mother was more than inches away. I attempted to sooth the kid but nothing would do. After a long time, my employer Benny Alba took a break (remember, the metal takes time to go from cherry red hot to cool enough to touch). Benny sat next to the baby, rocking the carrier, while I had my head on the coffee table to help. After a long time the puppy fell asleep! My employer, who is also an enamelist, went back to the main work station.
That left the puppy unattended! I was completely shocked as she'd indicated that she wanted company quite distinctly. What to do, I thought. What to do. Earlier, when the mother turned her head the opposite direction of the baby, I had bumped her with my nose but she ignored that.
Well, a solution came to mind. That mother needed to get right back and make sure that the baby got all it needed asleep or not. So I went over to her and, just like I did with the diaper bag, took hold of her sweater. I PULLED the sweater she was wearing about a foot towards the baby. THAT got her ATTENTION. This time I figured it was imperative that she get back to her mothering. So she squeaked, "Bandit, let go!" and my employer said "no". Since what I wanted was done... I am such an effective guy, I let up.
Problem solved! Mission accomplished. And I get more biscuits too.
LTNS, Long Time, No See
Perhaps I'll get lucky. No posts forever as my other service kept freezing access at every attempt to access the blog. So it's not for lack of trying. Today I got up the courage... and voila, I'm in!
Will post AFTER finally getting to remove the extra images from past posts.
Will post AFTER finally getting to remove the extra images from past posts.
Friday, July 10, 2009
Blue Light Special
A few days ago an acquaintance stopped by, having forgotten a scarf during a previous visit. Sabrina is a poet and painter. She had shown me her paintings while interviewing for an empty studio a few months back. I liked them-- as well as those by her sister, a resident of another state. She mentioned that she's concentrating on her writings right now and then, later, said that her work table for art is currently used in the kitchen for an eating surface. What a pity, I thought! We strolled about the studio, with my pointing out a drop leaf table rescued from the roadside that needed a home. "First come, first given" I told her, hoping that she could use it. I'm one of those types who drives a large enough car to rescue recycleable items and do. The longest turnaround for this hobby was the wheel barrow (with only one final step in it's assembly, all parts there), which took a year of asking those who drop by the studio. I'm not so good at conversation so this gives me a topic.
Within days she had a pal to help her transport the table. The pal, Mary Jean, had rented an electric car in San Francisco. Those cars are nifty! Mary Jean, dressed in capris with cool dangles, is a full on personality very different from the quiet type of Sabrina. Her eyes absorbed everything, her comments vivid and she seemed quick and intense in her understanding of the world. During the visit I described, for some reason that I can't recall, an airplane ride that I took as a maybe 7 yr old? We were in a Super Ventura, which was a converted bomber, replete with the bomb doors still in the cockpit. At the end of the flight, the pilot discovered that one of the retracted wheels would descend but not lock into place. With the copilot taking over, the pilot, a high level genius and do it all hands on kinda guy, not only conversed with Boeing (the manuf.) but also went down thru the bomb door to access the wheels. We circled the airport for four hours to no avail. I can still remember the pattern of the different lights for the runways, access roads and taxiways. All airport taxiways are lined with cobalt blue glass lights that glow softly. I've always been fond of them for their beauty. Since the emergency landing trip, I can still hear the morse code radio sound of the airport, which I suppose was part of the navigational system. As I recall, the door to the cockpit remained open during the final minutes of the flight.
As I finished my story (and I will here too, at the end of this but you already know that I lived), Mary Jean said that her father was the one who created/invented the blue glass for those lights. After she'd told me of his many accomplishments, including working with space stations (NASA), I was very impressed and wished that I had gotten to know him, an electrical engineer. I asked her if she had a sample of that taxiway blue glass lamp cover and was informed that no, she didn't. That triggered a studio search for a present.
Years ago, while at an artist refuge in Basin, Montana, a bunch of we artists would zip to a distant town for amusement. Basin itself had part of one road paved and about 50 homes, a pizza parlor, a pottery shop and a cafe that was also the bar and the laundromat. For further amusement we had to go further for more choices. Going to the dump to acquire materials for a play, or driving to the gas station (10 miles, Total: 1 library, 1 hardware store and a movie rental place, 2 grocery stores adjacent to each other) or to see the larger populations of Helena and Butte, both over an hour's drive away and more. The last two had many pawn/ junk stores and yes, drum roll, that's where I purchased an airport blue glass lamp cover. I passed up a fascinating pair of Inuit sealfur pants... I'd have to be shorter and very much more slim to use them! Slim sounds good, shorter no, thanks.
At long last I found the blue glass in the back area of the studio and passed it on to it's rightful owner. She seemed pleased to have it. And yes, we landed ok -- on one wheel, balanced for a while, then the wing tip touched down to scrape a groove in the grass covered dirt, not even the pavement, for a short distance. All hail and thanks to the incredible finesse of the pilot. He chose to rely on his skills rather than have the runway "foamed" to lessen the friction and reduce the fire hazards. A question of whether to be a bar of soap on a bubble bath wet bathroom floor or attempt a ballarina on pointe performance with a plane carrying two families and many children. We landed dry. Being the youngest, I was strapped onto the couch and immediatly started asking for release as I was sure we'd burst into flames.
This meeting of we two women can make one think of how small a world this is.... or was it a message from her father or mine to we who remain alive these days? A little fun twinkle in the eyes of the universe is what I think, serindippity too.
Oh, and in case you notice those long red straps hanging out of the underside of an airplane while it's on the ground? Those are tags to catch the eyes of the mechanic who might forget the rag that he shoved up into the gear to keep the oil from soiling the concrete underneath. A good pilot visually examines his plane... carefully.
Within days she had a pal to help her transport the table. The pal, Mary Jean, had rented an electric car in San Francisco. Those cars are nifty! Mary Jean, dressed in capris with cool dangles, is a full on personality very different from the quiet type of Sabrina. Her eyes absorbed everything, her comments vivid and she seemed quick and intense in her understanding of the world. During the visit I described, for some reason that I can't recall, an airplane ride that I took as a maybe 7 yr old? We were in a Super Ventura, which was a converted bomber, replete with the bomb doors still in the cockpit. At the end of the flight, the pilot discovered that one of the retracted wheels would descend but not lock into place. With the copilot taking over, the pilot, a high level genius and do it all hands on kinda guy, not only conversed with Boeing (the manuf.) but also went down thru the bomb door to access the wheels. We circled the airport for four hours to no avail. I can still remember the pattern of the different lights for the runways, access roads and taxiways. All airport taxiways are lined with cobalt blue glass lights that glow softly. I've always been fond of them for their beauty. Since the emergency landing trip, I can still hear the morse code radio sound of the airport, which I suppose was part of the navigational system. As I recall, the door to the cockpit remained open during the final minutes of the flight.
As I finished my story (and I will here too, at the end of this but you already know that I lived), Mary Jean said that her father was the one who created/invented the blue glass for those lights. After she'd told me of his many accomplishments, including working with space stations (NASA), I was very impressed and wished that I had gotten to know him, an electrical engineer. I asked her if she had a sample of that taxiway blue glass lamp cover and was informed that no, she didn't. That triggered a studio search for a present.
Years ago, while at an artist refuge in Basin, Montana, a bunch of we artists would zip to a distant town for amusement. Basin itself had part of one road paved and about 50 homes, a pizza parlor, a pottery shop and a cafe that was also the bar and the laundromat. For further amusement we had to go further for more choices. Going to the dump to acquire materials for a play, or driving to the gas station (10 miles, Total: 1 library, 1 hardware store and a movie rental place, 2 grocery stores adjacent to each other) or to see the larger populations of Helena and Butte, both over an hour's drive away and more. The last two had many pawn/ junk stores and yes, drum roll, that's where I purchased an airport blue glass lamp cover. I passed up a fascinating pair of Inuit sealfur pants... I'd have to be shorter and very much more slim to use them! Slim sounds good, shorter no, thanks.
At long last I found the blue glass in the back area of the studio and passed it on to it's rightful owner. She seemed pleased to have it. And yes, we landed ok -- on one wheel, balanced for a while, then the wing tip touched down to scrape a groove in the grass covered dirt, not even the pavement, for a short distance. All hail and thanks to the incredible finesse of the pilot. He chose to rely on his skills rather than have the runway "foamed" to lessen the friction and reduce the fire hazards. A question of whether to be a bar of soap on a bubble bath wet bathroom floor or attempt a ballarina on pointe performance with a plane carrying two families and many children. We landed dry. Being the youngest, I was strapped onto the couch and immediatly started asking for release as I was sure we'd burst into flames.
This meeting of we two women can make one think of how small a world this is.... or was it a message from her father or mine to we who remain alive these days? A little fun twinkle in the eyes of the universe is what I think, serindippity too.
Oh, and in case you notice those long red straps hanging out of the underside of an airplane while it's on the ground? Those are tags to catch the eyes of the mechanic who might forget the rag that he shoved up into the gear to keep the oil from soiling the concrete underneath. A good pilot visually examines his plane... carefully.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Monday, July 6, 2009
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