"INCEPTION"/ Ring Dance #1 came back from the galvanizers this week. It still shouts a little loud with the fresh hot-dip zinc coating, but will quiet with exposure to sunshine and rain. I have been enjoying the sense of play and motion that the piece embodies.
I didn’t know in advance what the piece would look like. I made the rings, of various sizes, but then deliberately avoided any planning of how they would be arranged to form the final sculpture. I find that a piece like this has more life when I let it accrue on its own. I just started sticking the rings together, one by one. I think of this process as being divinitory. By that I mean I let the piece form itself, while I engage in a ritual sort of play with the elements involved. I apply a loose, fluid set of guidelines as to how I will proceed. The piece is thereby “played” into existence. I discover the final form of the piece by playing with the elements rather than by developing a set design and then forcing materials into the form of the preconceived vision. I wonder what will happen; then I find out. For guidelines, in this case, I paid attention to attaching each ring firmly to at least two others, considered how to make the piece fully three dimensional—with no front, side, or back—and tried to avoid placing any ring on the same plane with, or parallel to, any other. I didn’t even settle on what would be up or down until I came to the last few rings. The advantage of this open-ended play is that the resulting piece arrives from a place beyond my own imagination, from a crossroads of play and purpose, a mix of the limits of material and process, one decision dependent on the results of the last. I arrive in a new territory, not quite sure how I got there. Then I look around. RING DANCE #1 is available for purchase, and will be on display at Olympia’s spring Artswalk, April 27 and 28. I’ll be showing with the other “Fire Art” welders from South Puget Sound Community College. We will be on the southeast corner of Fourth and Washington, downtown Olympia. [Update: INCEPTION/ Ring Dance #1 was sold in 2013] 2/23/2012 Hazels to Hickory Nuts [Addendum, June 2015: The poems mentioned herein are no longer available on the website, but are in the collection, "Swallowing the World," new this month from Lost Arts Design.] I put seven new poems in the “Uncollected” section of the website today. A wide range, new and old.
CATKINS is the newest, celebrating the Hazelnut catkins. Hazels hold the ground north and south of the house. In January and February their soft subtle flowers are a welcome visual and textural delight when everything else seems scattered, chaotic, broken or skeletal. You’ll find two Northeast Florida poems, HOLY VISION and WINDFALL. I get down there a lot to see my father, who is in decline, but stable, and not in much pain. His body and mind just don’t work as well as they used to. So we all get down more often, to help him out. Dad lives in assisted living, but still has the house he and my mother lived in for the ten years or so before her death, in 2009. This house is sited on a beautiful curve of the intercoastal waterway on the landward side of Amelia Island, the northernmost barrier island on Florida’s Atlantic coast. The next island north is Cumberland Island, in Georgia. The back deck of the house practically overhangs a wide salt marsh, rife with birds, bordering the river, where great barges, layer-cake tug boats, and all manner of pleasure craft travel by day and night. Eagles, Osprey, Kingfisher, and all sorts of wading birds nest nearby. The place provides a remarkable and inspiring residence and retreat. HOLY VISION and WINDFALL were triggered by experiences in that rich, tropical landscape, where I always seem to be about to go, or just back from these days. The other four newly posted poems are AFTER DARK, CONFLUENCE, AT THE SCULPTURE PARK, and WEIGHTLESS. Let me know what you like, or what you would like to hear at the reading, March 21. 1/18/2012 In SnowBig snowfall during the night. Big for Puget Sound country. It's not light yet, but the blanket softens everything. I woke up thinking of Liam Rector's poem "In Snow", and David Broza's beautiful rendition [click here]. I found a performance clip—unfortunately not the whole song, but it gives a sweet taste. Ah Liam, we miss ye, lad.
1/3/2012 Renewing TimeI've been through this new year thing sixty times now, and never once have I felt the slightest shift or hitch in the smooth rollout—the countdown hits zero, the ball lands, the numbers flip—under the clever costume I am still you, here. Everything has changed; nothing has changed—the blessing and the curse of time in one steady swirl, ever balanced on a single point—poised, drawing this breath. Ahhhh.
12/31/2011 One Word Poem RevealedThe one word poem in my previous post was "YOU." Read the 12/30 posting for context. I suspect that in another context the one word poem would require a very large—perhaps infinite—title. That's the way of these things. 12/30/2011 Dream PoemIn a dream this morning, I was one-poem-in to a poetry reading. Large, well-lit room, an audience of about forty. It was a relaxed scene—I knew some of the people; many of them had heard me read before.
I was giving the first poem a little space when someone about half-way back on the right raised his hand. I nodded and he said “That poem only adds clarity to a narrow slice of existence. I want the poem that explains it all.” Without missing a beat I said “I can give you that poem in one word.” The one word poem that explains it all had just come to me. Go figure. I met the man’s eyes, and just as I was about to pronounce the one word, a series of unrelated interruptions broke through the room—a door opened admitting four or five people in animated conversation, a PA system somewhere crackled to life in the middle of an announcement—it was as if a tempest blew through the room, as if papers were flying everywhere. The audience looked around, distracted, the moment seemed broken. But the man and I were still holding the gaze, and I said the word. We both smiled. No one but he and I heard it. The tempest blew itself out and everything settled. I cleared my throat, shuffled pages, and went on with the reading. No one else seemed to notice. I remember the word that was for me and him the necessary explanation at that moment. Can you guess it? 12/15/2011 InceptionI have often sent out a poem from the year as a solstice or New Year greeting in the form of a small broadside, or card. Not every year but every few. This year I wrote “Thanksgiving (occupy this)” on the day after Thanksgiving—it came together quickly and right away had the feel of the holiday poem for this year.
I took a picture of the Olympics that morning and put together the broadside, sent it to a few friends. A few days later I began to take the message of the poem to heart and realized it was time to give access to all the poems. I already had the URL. Debi Bodett of 33 Image Design helped me build the site. |
Art and Practice
Don Freas is an artist, writer, and poet in Olympia, Washington. Categories |
Don Freas
515 Flora Vista Rd Olympia WA 98506 (360) 357-2850 don@donfreas.com |
3/25/2012
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