For this year’s workshops at the studio we’re going to switch things up a little by offering drop in collage classes every Thursday from 10 to 4, starting on March 20 (and drop-in “Drawing Workshops” on Mondays, 10 to 4, beginning on May 12).
The collage and the drawing workshops will follow a new format: we are going to suggest a different theme for each workshop, pulled out of a hat, literally, at the beginning of each new session. Everyone will work on something related to that particular “theme of the day”. The subjects are very broad and can be treated in any way that suits you – and may challenge you to find something interesting in a seemingly bland or baffling subject matter.
Back in the 90s I had the notion to start making birdhouses. I thought it would be fun to use up some old wood I had laying around and do something good for the environment by promoting bird habitat.
I liked the sculptural aspect as well and soon found my self imitating some of the old houses and barns of my childhood. Every old building I saw was fodder for a birdhouse and the more I made, the more elaborate they became. Wooden roofs became metal roofs and plain siding gave way to scalloped metal shingles.
Larry’s new pieces of rustic jewelry……………
Painting with an encaustic pen is a quiet meditation on process and discovery. It favors patience and deliberateness.
What appeals to me is the slow build up of wax, stroke by stroke, layer upon layer, adding colors bit by bit and carefully mixing them directly on the panel.
This method lends itself especially well to working on a small surface. For example, the encaustic painters of Greece, who developed this process, seldom made pictures larger than the average head.
Until my 6th year of school my family and I lived in a small tar paper house that was built in a day by my Dad’s friends as a wedding present. It had a living room, a kitchen and two bedrooms for a family of 6. The house was rough on the inside with no insulation and heated by a woodstove. In our minds it was a palace and a home. I miss that house still. There has never been a house as grand or a kitchen so warm.
The Big Elk river runs like a silver thread through my veins and Tiger Mountain chimes my heart.
My art speaks to these two worlds, my first home and my second. In all my work I turn personal history into fables where animals walk upright and speak in the voices of my friends and family. They relate their lives in small dramas – sometimes they make sense and sometimes they do not.
Ravens and rabbits, elephants and mice carry on complex relationships often reversing roles, sometimes friends, sometimes lovers, often enemies. Always in flux.