New giant glitter and sequins!
I am gearing up to sell my holographic silver glitter, largely motivated by these cute polka-dot containers. They remind me of a Christmas when I was five years old and we lived in Paris. Under the tree was a bright yellow box with multicolor polka-dots and a big red ribbon. My brother and I untied the bow, pried open the cardboard lid, and discovered a little brown poodle puppy!
So many people ask me where they can buy my FABULOUS glitter. I commission a manufacturer to make the glitter to my size, shape, and color specifications, so you won't find this puppy in a craft store.
(I also ordered a mix of big giant sequins. Oooh la la et lesser les bons temps rouler!)
Glitter will change your life chickadee.
I have a third tree about finished with two more to go. The chickadees have found the bird feeder I put out in front of the artist's house so my heart is full. I love watching them rifle through the mix to pick out the sunflower seeds, kind of like I like to find all the cashews in nut mix. They are much more robust in their approach than I am, using their beaks like pitchforks, casting the millet aside as though it were sawdust.
I'll try to get some pictures of the trees progress. In the meantime here is another shot of the roll of wonder, Joy's Horizon. I can't get enough of looking at this piece. Sargent Art and M Jacobs and Sons have been so generous with materials donations. Please 'Like' them on facebook for me if you get a chance and buy Sargent's glitter glaze. It'll change your life. That's my new line when visitors come to make blossoms for the trees for the public installation: "It'll change your life." Then, when they are finished I say, "Don't you feel changed?" So silly .
When the going gets tough, the tough need...
Enough said, right? The tiny mason jar has an emergency stash of my holographic hexagonal glitter chunks.
PURCHASE: $35
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I didn't speak to John for about 6 hours because I was deep into A Prayer For Owen Meany by John Irving. Chris said that you can't be her friend if you don't like it and I felt confident I would pass the test because apparently John Irving was a student when Frederick Beuchner (one of my favorites) was at Exeter. I was really worried at first, but then I couldn't put it down. What a relief. I was trying to think of a book litmus test for my friends but I have such weird book taste I wouldn't put them through it. (For what it is worth I am a non-fiction geek and especially love Annie Dillard.)
We got home last night just in time to be stopped at a roadblock for President Obama's motorcade, so I guess we kind of saw him, or at least all the red and blue flashing lights around him. I spent the day unpacking but at present, almost 5 pm, my bed is loaded with stacks of clothes. It's a switch to come back to 80-90 degree weather and I am in a quandary regarding cool weather clothes. I'd better make up my mind soon or I may end up having to sleep on the couch.
I came home to a nice clean house and stacks of mail, including a box of GLITTER! Ten pounds each of holographic chunky silver hexagons and a big bag of miscellaneous sequins. Next week I visit a class of intellectually disabled high school students for a workshop on making ornaments for our Festival of Trees entry. I am planning on an ornament making workshop at my house soon. I figure everyone can make an ornament to take with them as well as contribute MANY to our tree . I titled the tree "Bottle Tree Christmas: a Community Collaborative" and am hoping to venture out into various communities including a homeless shelter if I can swing it.
Natalie was hankering some healthy food so I am making one of her favorite casseroles a Weight Watchers recipe for a layered Mexican Casserole (I use light not fat free cheese and sour cream). I went to Aldi's for the first time which made grocery shopping almost fun. I was trying to figure out the coin operated shopping carts when a lady offered me the cart she was finished using if I gave her the quarter so I did. Aldi's only takes cash or debit cards and being as I don't know how to use our debit card, can't remember the pin, and don't know which card is the debit card, I was glad I had a little cash. Rather than keep track of how much I spend I prefer acts of faith at the register: "Please God, don't let me go over!" My money was so balled up from my travels it took an embarrassingly long time to pay, but at least I didn't come up short. When I was finished shopping I couldn't even give my cart away.
James made this cool camera gizmo so that you can even run with the video camera and the image will not be bumpy. Maybe I'll borrow it next year
run along my GIGANTIC ArtPrize entry. Sadly, for now I am switching to regular old 'Dale's Blog' since ArtPrize is over though I am hoping for some pictures of the trees in their new homes. Until then, I'll be putting all my updates on the Dale's blog section of my web-site.
Utilitarian sparkle and glitter litmus tests....
We're in Tennessee and half-way home. Yesterday, Chris and I had a last ditch flurry of creativity. We took the mess to the Mason's lawn trying to keep some of the glitter out of the house. That attracted a two-year-old who placed one hand each in two bags of glitter and beamed like the movie character 'Amelie' when she presses her hand through a barrel of dried beans. When John asked me where this magic took place, I answered 'in our front yard' and laughed at my mistake, recollecting Chris's habit of calling the trees 'our installation.' (Truth be told it did take a village. Chris, Oren, and John have every right to claim ownership, along with a host of others.) I made the toddler a flower on a stem. She circled around us as though playing 'duck, duck, goose' saying : "Sparkle, dust, sparkle, dust" while waving the flower like a wand and watching the glitter fall like rain.
I watch how people interact with dogs, interpreting their behavior as a sign of character. I am thinking glitter is a similar litmus test. Doug, of Public Works fame, laughed when he relayed that his wife asked him about the glitter on his cheek. It made Chris and I all the more committed to make sure the trees would find their home with his organization rather than with another potential buyer who hinted at glitter being a nuisance. Can you imagine? At any rate, Oren passes the litmus test because he couldn't resist 'glitterizing' their water utility cover. If only whole cities shared his zeal.
Glitter apothecary, left-handed compliments, and getting lost....
It was such a glorious sunny day that I went down to the venue for a few hours for a little make-it and take-it time with visitors. So many people appreciate getting to know how to create the pieces. Sometimes I have to fight the urge to keep my methods and materials secret (not that they are all that difficult to figure out) but I try to imagine an open hand instead of being grabby. Several visitors wanted to know where to get the glitter I use and that fuels my longstanding desire to have a 'glitter apothocary.' It would be like a penny candy store with all different sizes and colors of glitter. I think the money making potential may be lacking, but it would be worth it because I could have all the colors. (btw: a good source of glitter until I become one it Rainbow Turtle in Oregon.)
Here are two funny comments over the course of the event. One lady was with her husband and sighed "interesting...." So I asked "interesting good or interesting bad?" to which she responded "hmmmmm." Her husband was a fan though. He burst into Taco Bob's to announce that they chose to eat there because of the tree installation. Another lady meant to compliment me (I think) when she earnestly and enthusiastically said with a very serious face: "I really didn't like this project at all! I mean I really didn't like it. Then, I read your sign with the explanation. So that just shows me! Now I like it!" (So much for communicating visually.) We had a good chuckle over that one and I have to admit that I have most likely made similar 'compliments.'
The leaves are turning and some of them are so orange they almost glow. i have such a bad sense of direction that I am wearing out my poor GPS: "Recalculating... again." Chris said she always feels a little guilty when the thing says "recalculating" like she is really creating unnecessary aggravation for the poor machine. At any rate, I have meandered and driven ' 400 feet and make a u-turn' more often than most people, but the leaves are changing, some of them to an orange that glows so who cares.
Trees of Life Re-reclaimed
When I was in Kindergarten I dropped a picture book through an iron grate in the playground. A first or second-grade boy lifted the grate, descended into the opening and rescued my book. I envision him in prince charming blue riding up on a white stallion. He was my hero. Today William came at 8 a.m. to unlock the building for us. Then, he and Oren climbed into a dumpster to dig through bags of trash, salvaging plastic pieces that had accidentally been tossed. I never did figure out where they parked their stallions.
We dragged the trees to the site and drilled them back into their bases for what we hope is the last time. The wind Thursday night pulled the trees up like weeds. The L brackets and many of the screws were still on the trunks, having been ripped out of the wooden bases and through 25 pounds of rock. We moved some hardware and tweaked our assembly counting on three times being a charm. We really know how to put this installation up.
Oren says 'angel' means messenger of God and that the lady who stopped to encourage us was for sure an angel. Pretty soon people were stopping by expressing how happy they were to see it coming back after the storm or to let us know that it was their favorite entry. It really kept us motivated in the chilly morning air. A couple of ladies jumped at the chance to help pop the bottles into the remaining empty caps.
Before long Chris came to help. I am pretty much out of words after so many hours of talking to passers-by, but she and Oren enthusiastically chatted with the public, engaging them by having them attach pieces to the Haiti tree. Their son Paul became our expert 'drill sergeant' screwing caps into gaps and fielding questions. One little girl was adding bottles and exclaimed, "I can't stop!" and I echoed her sentiment. We just kept tweaking and tweaking until we had used up all but a few of our bottles and the sun was setting. All day long we heard "Oh, they're water bottles!" or "It's so happy!"
When we first started the project Chris and I talked about how everyone that touched it felt invested, from the Taco Bob employees that stood on the bases while the wind roared, to the building manager who regularly checked on us. After today I wonder if we had it wrong. So many people eagerly attended to the trees, walking away with a little glitter and a lighter heart. I wonder if instead of the magic being in their touching the trees, maybe, in some mysterious way, it is how the trees are touching them.
Pratfalls, Jack-in-the-boxes, and windstorms
Years ago I read a book called Redeeming Laughter about the sociology of humor. Peter Berger proposes that most humor is based on someone falling and then rising. I was pretty bummed this morning when I went to check on my trees only to find that a squall had come through and uprooted every last one. My hero, the building manager, chased down parts for over a block.
Tomorrow begins the biggest ArtPrize weekend and is predicted to be glorious and sunny. Since the reason I came here is to communicate visually a message of hope and transformation, I hate to miss the opportunity for more people to enjoy the installation. So, the plan is to go down first thing tomorrow morning and set them up one more time. Thankfully they didn't look too badly damaged and they have already been enjoyed by many visitors.
About ten years ago Chris and Oren adopted five Sudanese refugees. I got to meet Leek, their 23 year old son home for a visit after finishing his Master's degree. Chris told me a few days ago that one of the main things she gained from the adoption experience was perspective. I am so glad for that conversation because this blip in my plan when put in perspective is small potatoes. So, if a tree falls in my forest I'm hoping the sound it makes is laughter.
Leaves, chipmunks, and a glitterless bottle...
The leaves are starting to turn. This photo was taken looking up through the window in my room at the Mason's. Everywhere yellows and reds are making their happy appearance. I came back today and a chipmunk was chirping quite lividly at me. I conversed with him a little bit, then tried to bribe him with some raisins but I must have looked too sketchy. Probably the glitter is what spooked him.
As I walked down the block I found bits of sequins and glitter quite some distance away. It reminded me of when I was about five years old and our school took us all to the roof of the building to let helium balloons go. The student with the balloon that travelled the farthest won a bicycle. To my recollection the winner's balloon was found in Germany. (We were living in France.) I wouldn't be at all surprised if my glitter makes it into the sand patterns of the world and ends up on another continent. I overheard the maintenance people yesterday discussing how it alludes the vacuum cleaner and the broom. They were going to resort to a mop. All this was discussed without complaint so I guess I haven't worn out my welcome yet.
Yesterday a couple came to have what appeared to be their engagement picture taken by the trees. The bride and groom-to-be stood back to back with a tree in the middle and smiled for the camera. Tomorrow two different school groups come to visit their contributions to the installation. I stayed late tweaking the trees and loading the ArtPrize tree with their creations. It's so cute how they want to find a bottle that they cut and painted. "It was yellow with silver glitter" will send me on a search for something that matches the description. The other day one little girl stumped me because she specified that she had made a red flower with no glitter. Of the hundreds of bottles delivered to me I'll bet money that hers was the only one like that.
I just can't get away from the press!
Here is how we ended the day. My favorite memories:
1. A little girl who convinced her father to pull over so she could "see THAT!"
2. A man who described the installation as "Happy."
3. Meeting an artist from Kansas City named Juniper who makes giant chameleons that are climbing the lamp-posts across the street.
4. People not knowing what my trees are made of.
5. People crossing the street because they had to see the trees.
6. The sunlight hitting the holographic glitter and creating a light show.
7. My friend having the best day in a long time helping me assemble and becoming sparkly in the process.
8. An artist couple who are not only helping me bolt my forest into the concrete, they got approval from the property manager, went home to get their drill, and then went to the hardware store for the bolts.
9. Getting interviewed by the evening news.
10. A great dinner with friends at a lovely little restaurant overlooking a lake: Seared Ahi tuna with edamame, asparagus, and pearl onions.
11. Tubby! Nighty-night.
Glitter-copia in Sparkle-topia
The photo to the right is an image of my world until the Festival of Trees. Between doing the tree with my students and creating the ornaments, bottle stoppers, and arrangements for the boutique I even dream in glitter. Inspired by a project I saw on-lines my students and I painted our still life with glue and presto! Gourd-geous don't you think?
The Orlando Sentinel comes tomorrow to see our tree and learn how we do what we do. We are scheduled to do a how-to segment with Channel 6 news next week so that everyone can enjoy making ornaments. Our trail of sparkles may lead right up to your door. Boo!