What the Living Do

Some friends recently tweeted to each other this interview with Marie Howe  and I was so glad to see it again. When I think of my late colleague Bill Bohné I am reminded to keep on with what the living do and to live well while I'm at it. Howe is good at getting at the liminal spaces in an ordinary day and the unexpected sacred. When I listened to the story and heard Howe quoting her dying brother I imagined Bill could have said the same, "This is not a tragedy. I'm a happy man...When I'm asked if I could love I can answer yes."

In fact, Bill said as much by being loving and engaged until his last. He was concerned about craft in art, about living well, about teaching, about maintaining the art-ness and weirdness of our discipline, and about celebrating. I'm still mourning him and perhaps feeling sorry for us not to have him physically here. I am living. I remember you.

Mourning sleeves in a swimming pool. 

I first encounter's Howe's work through her poem Part of Eve's Discussion in a college course on the Religious Poetry of Asia. It was the liberal-artiest type of class that one can take in a liberal arts college and the kind that could have been total underwater basket weaving. Instead it was beautiful and unexpectedly practical. Some of the poetry and ideas of that class stuck, rooted, and enriched my thinking and my mourning. In addition to Howe's book of essays Nine Gates: Entering the Mind of Poetry, the class read Robert Hass' Essential Haiku: Versions of Basho, Buson, & Issa (Essential Poets). I've most recently returned to that book for subject matter in my beginning printmaking class. In fact we were sitting around a table in the printshop reading haiku when I learned Bill had died.

In honor of Bill, art, and wit, here is one of my favorite haiku by Kobayashi Issa (translated by Robert Hass).

A bath when you're born,
a bath when you die.
How stupid.

Hungry Turtle

Recently got to work with the newly emerging Hungry Turtle Farm and Learning Center in Amery, WI to produce four illustrations to go in their new building. Hungry Turtle is "committed to supporting sustainable agriculture and land stewardship through education, innovative partnerships, and programming."

I'm excited to continue to work with Hungry Turtle and look forward to seeing how their work grows in Amery. In fact, they'll be hosting Turtle Scouts, their own Land Scout troop! Pretty exciting.

Below are the four illustrations that went up in the windows of the Hungry Turtle building.

Found Painting

Palette from my studio. Best painting I've made in a while.

Red Bird

The mascot for the high school down the street from our house is the Red Bird. It looks like an angry cardinal. The marquee in front of the school spells out in LED lights: It's a Great Day to Be a Red Bird. I find this funny and take it as a challenge. We'll see how great it is to be a red bird.

So far I've draped the veil-like portion of the Red Bird head piece. Need to anchor my head-mannequin so I can lean into it. I love the challenge of moving from drawing to object, although so far the drawings are more exciting and engaging than the red corduroy hood waiting in the studio.

I imagine wearing it and dancing around my neighborhood as if in a music video by Mimi Cave. The neighbors might worry. Or they might join in. Such could be the greatness of being a red bird.

Bartram the Land Scout

I read an article recently about American botanist John Bartram. Accompanying the article was this great drawing of Bartram by Howard Pyle an illustrator considered to be the father of The Golden Age of American Illustration. There's an excellent group of Pyle paintings on exhibit at the Baer Gallery right now. If you live in or near NE Wisconsin, the show will be up through the end of this week.

After it the Pyle show comes down I'll help install Land Scout illustrations in that same gallery. It feels sweet and serendipitous to find this image in common.

Production

Over the winter break I enjoyed getting into the studio more to work on things for the upcoming show. Among the things were seed balls. I will recreate the trade-installation I showed at Pellissippi last fall. These seedballs will carry a variety of midwestern wildflowers as selected by American Meadows. It is rare (for me) to get to the point where the decisions are made and all that remains is to make the things. Rare and pleasurable in its straightfowardness. I hope to have 200 + seedballs to fill two low pedestals in the gallery. While on the subject of production: a shoutout and thanks to my one-time assistant and all-time ceramicist Amy Hand, who helped me refine this process and recipe.

In the Studio - Late Fall

This has been a nice Thanksgiving break: lonely without our families, but easier in that we've not had to travel. I've been able to get into the studio more and that feels great. A smart friend on the phone today said something like, "I'd love to see images of what you're working on. Maybe you have a blog?" and I cringed because I do have a blog, two in fact, but don't often post and even less frequently show the work I'm making. So here to remedy that are some images of the things I've been working on in my home studio.

My main focus is, or should be, preparing for a solo show that opens this February at St. Norbert College. It will be a retrospective of sorts and will feature three distinct bodies of work-- Costumes to Save Your Life, the Land Scouts, and the LAND BOOTS-- with a few other newer pieces.

A floor plan of the gallery and a thinking-drawing.

In the meantime, I'm working to extend To What End?, a 30 foot chain with oversized links made of stitched mylar food wrappers and lined with various found materials. It is my piece of purposelessness and helps balance out the overthinking I bring to the other work.

To What End - Katie Ries, ongoing

I'm also working on fleshing out and making paper patterns for some head pieces. I hope this will grow into a series, but will start with (It's a Great Day to Be a) Red Bird.

At left: notes on the head pieces and other works. At right: the paper pattern waiting on the mannequin.

I'm also trying to stay up on drawing and to push myself to draw more often and with greater ambition-- which I define as experimenting with materials, methods, duration, and content. Drawing often and for more than an hour at a time remains a challenge. I think it is more important for me (right now) to keep limber and draw often. Hopefully the duration and content will build from that.

A drawing started at bar drawing and worked up further. Also studio detritus on the table.