“We are the music makers, we are the dreamers of dreams.” Say it out loud. Say it again. Go about your day reminding yourself regularly, and do it again tomorrow. Be who you are, fully, magnificently, even mildly at first. It gets easier with practice, and like Willy, plenty of time alone to develop just exactly who you are. Say it one more time. Good.
Heidi Bucher’s sculptures have been on my mind lately, as a meditation on costume, what we wear each and every day compared to what we wear for specific occasions. When and where would I try to pull this one off? How about on a flatbottom boat floating down the Potomac River on a foggy warm spring morning? Or certainly a parade. There’s ecstasy in following creative urges, sometimes, and perhaps second-hand ecstasy in the urges of others.
The tie to these visual forms and what happens in the studio is direct, sometimes urgent. In cities, I’ll stop mid-stride to sketch a gesture, the line of strangers’ sleeves and hats, a twist of unexpected architecture. In this sub-rural area I call home, it’s the caves, rocks, tumbling down structures, and locals on these streets and trails. The eye is constantly learning. Vases a little heavier at the base. Handles drawing from anatomy, or just off a bit, leaning and weathered.
Now to giggle…Heidi’s work also brings a zany, zesty love of the absurd, especially with the videos of her pieces walking on a beach. Truly. Watch this now, twice.
And to cool off a bit, this Humans of New York image, like a sweet glaze on afternoon teacake, gently calls to mind grapefruit, or cardamom. These incredible daily images of real Yous and Mes are the salve that keep my mind cool and collected, the ice in my ice coffee. As Mardi Gras approaches, let the mask making commence.