Creative Currency

Whole numbers

I am now rich with sand dollars.  Not the broken shells typically found in my childhood beach hunts, but perfectly whole specimens of this sea urchin treasure.

Seriously – we are talking the mother lode of sand dollars.

Never have I seen such a gorgeous array of sizes and colors of whole sand dollars washed up on the beach, Cayucos, California, September 2020.

So, what does an artist do with so much natural wealth?

Simple – leave it behind in exchange for creative inspiration that only the coast can generously offer.

Welcome to California’s Central Coast!

Bank holiday

My latest journey to visit my daughters living in San Luis Obispo filled my pockets up in more ways than one. 

Christmas was the last time I saw my oldest daughter, Devon, and the pandemic had cancelled a springtime trip to play on the beach with all four of us together.

So, two weeks relaxing oceanside with my kids this past month was a true gift. 

Hiking Harmony Headlands with my kids, Zsofi, Devon and Mason, August 2020. So much fun!

Exploring the sea cliffs at Montaña de Oro and Harmony Headlands state parks, watching my girls surf at Dog Beach and Moonstone, and catching some pretty sweet sunsets brought some big smiles.

Devon living the surfer’s life on Dog Beach in Cayucos, California, September 2020.

Zsofi shredding it on a foggy day at Moonstone Beach, Cambria, California, August 2020.

It also brought me the opportunity to connect more deeply with my surroundings by leaving small installation offerings as an ephemeral payment of gratitude.

Thank you, Central Coast.

Frozen assets

To tender ice as an artistic medium on a windy beach is exciting stuff.

Finding the perfect spot to create a brief visual experience involves sand, stone and surf.  And, as you might imagine, not all places freely accept my form of creative currency.

You have to place a lot of ice to get a lucky shot, and luckily, the failures melt fast! Moonstone Beach, Cambria, California, September 2020.

But, failed attempts are all part of the trek, and without the stagger there can be no sparkle. 

Ice installation is a true balancing act of patience and persistence. Cayucos Beach, California, August 2020.

All of the rejected installations are rewarded with laughter and lessons of letting go - critical elements of building a balanced artistic practice.

Bag of sand

Two beaches that are especially generous in their inspirational exchange along the Central Coast are the pebbly Moonstone and the long sandy strand stretching from Morro Bay to Cayucos.  Although waves crash against both to sculpt the tideline, there are unique features at each one that draw me in time and time again.

•  MOONSTONE

Say hello to a rock hound’s paradise of agates, jade and jasper.  Every visit I make to the area requires a few hours simply sifting through the stones.  So, leaving a small ice installation to mimic the colors of the tumbled rocks felt perfectly placed.

Blue butterfly pea, hibiscus, spirulina and turmeric created beautifully vibrant ice sticks to complement the colorful stones on Moonstone Beach, Cambria, California, September 2020.

The honeycomb banks of sandstone at Moonstone are another fascination of mine that has spurred inspirational curiosity on every trip.  While others leave pebble offerings in the rounded crevices, my donation materialized as ice orbs of frozen hibiscus, spirulina and blue butterfly pea.

Ice orbs mixing with the salty spray of Moonstone Beach honeycomb rocks, Cambria, California, September 2020.

The wind whipped hard on the beach that day, adding to the expressive challenges, but my incredible kids stuck by my side (behind a driftwood shield!) so their free-spirited mom could artfully play.

Love you guys! 

• CAYUCOS

While this beach charmed me with its trove of whole sand dollars, it was the long, slow tide and larger rock outcrops that inspired my icy installations.

The proximity to our house made it an especially great space to experiment with frozen shapes across several days and in different light.

As the tide stretched in and out, tidal pools exposed vibrant sea anemones and their starfish friends. 

The neon glow of the sea anemone at low tide was breathtaking, Cayucos Beach, California, September 2020.

The variation of barnacle formations and mussels on the exposed rocks created intriguing complements to the melting blue cylinders of ice.

Perhaps the most compelling geological feature was a sea stack that brought back memories of an installation adventure in Lofoten, Norway in 2018.

Granite Stack ice installation in Lofoten, Norway is one of my very favorite shots, October 2018.

I made several attempts to capture the essence of Granite Stack, and was treated to a special image in exchange for hours quietly washed away by the California tide.

Mussel Stack ice installation in honor of Granite Stack, Cayucos Beach, California, September 2020.

Stack ‘em deep

Seems that my creative reserves have been happily refilled by my time on the Central Coast, and for that I’m thankful. 

The rush of excitement I felt by collecting fistfuls of sand dollars was immediately followed by a natural impulse to interact with their subtle beauty.

Sorting, stacking and releasing them back to the sea is somehow intertwined with the curiosity that drives my installation practice.

How comforting to know I can bank on this coastal inspiration forever.

10x10

Natural order

I’m a big fan of squares in my art.

To be more accurate, I should probably broaden that statement to say ‘I love parallelograms’ because rectangles and rhombi pop into my artwork as well.  Since a square is a kind of rectangle and rhombus, but neither a rectangle nor a rhombus is necessarily a square, I may want to be more inclusive of the linear shapes that have inspired me for decades.

All kinds of naturally dyed parallelograms playing on this canvas!

Side note:  Can you tell that I’ve been tutoring my son, Mason, in geometry this spring?

So, as I sat down to write this month’s Trail Tale to share my journey into #The100DayProject, I realized I was playing with squares again.  Only this time, in an algebraic way:  10x10=100, or more simply written 10².

Projection

When mixed media artist, Natalie Dadamio, suggested I try #The100DayProject this year, I thought it would be a fantastic way to deepen my commitment to my creative practice.  Knowing I would be grounded from travel, at least of the air variety, diving into 100 days of a focused art ‘project’ seemed like a wonderful way to enrich the time in my home studio.

We used to have a kitchen island, but that real estate is now gone, along with the dining room table.

But why 100 days, and how would this differ from the extensive hours in the ‘off-hours’ that I’ve already heavily invested in this crazy creative biz dream of mine?

Seems the consensus is as follows on the power of 100 days of focus:

• It is long enough to create a habit

• It is short enough to see the finish line

• It requires setting an achievable goal

• It demands planning to allocate time and space

• It is extremely helpful to break it up into manageable micro-steps

Coincidentally, three of my 2020 goals are hovering right now in the 100 day range.  Making healthy nutrition choices, increasing movement and meditating have become daily habits.  Ways of living that seemed to elude me throughout the years are wonderfully entrenched in my world today.

And, I’m at least 10x10 times happier.

All smiles on the cochineal farm in Oaxaca, Mexico, March 2020.

 100 days of art….bring it on!

Hash it out

First thing first was to decide what my 100 Day Project focus would be.  As you may have noticed, I suffer from a kind of creative distraction disorder.  My artwork crosses all kinds of discipline and medium lines as my curiosity drags me from one to another and back again.

So, how was I to choose just one of my many passions?

Easy:  #100DaysOfMultiPassion

But, in an effort to corral those multi-passions of mine into a more cohesive project, I needed a theme.

One idea came to me naturally:  #100DaysOfColorsFromNature

The rainbow of mineral pigments I foraged while on residency in Oaxaca, Mexico, March 2020.

Now, with not one, but two hashtags declaring my project, there was one tiny manageable micro-step I had to take.

Breaking it all down by 10.

Chunky monkey

As I hit publish on this blog, I’m about to celebrate my 25th day – one quarter done! For those of you following my adventures on Instagram, you have had a preview of where these 100 days are meandering.  For those of you on Facebook – sorry!

Breaking the project down into 10 days each of 10 different ‘topics’ surrounding natural color felt like the perfect solution to keep me on task.  Plus, I argued, it would allow me to truly explore all of the ways nature’s palette has inspired my art.

Pigment color studies from the regions of Peru where we explored and foraged in June/July 2019.

If you’ve read this far, you are in for a sneak peek of the full 10x10 plan.  Plus, I’ll throw in a little commentary and few more photos of chunks 1 and 2 (Days 1-20) which have already flown by:

Days 1-10: Natural dyes

• I may have started using organic colors in ice, but the list of materials I have dyed from nature also include textile, paper, bioplastics and even eggs.  I may have left out mung bean and dough in this project, but I added a new piece to the dye mix – ink!

Cookin’ colors in the kitchen to make inks from red cabbage, black bean, avocado skins and turmeric.

Days 11-20: Mineral pigments

• Over the past 1.5 years, I widened my color scope to include the earth beneath my traveling feet.  Each day, I shared some of the subtle hues I foraged from 7 unique locations:  Washington, Idaho, Oregon and California on the west coast, Pennsylvania to the east and Mexico and Peru to the south.

Pigmented stones foraged along Wissahickon Creek in Philadelphia, PA, July 2019.

Days 21-30: Textile colors

• I’m midstream in the 3rd chunk and creation is underway.  Every day I’m building a quick color study with textile remnants I have collected from larger pieces I built in Oaxaca.  The idea is to push the design from a limited natural palette in a small space.

Textile Stack Series of quick color studies during #The100DayProject. Drop me a line to purchase.

If you want a piece of the action, each one of these mixed media works on canvas is for sale at $40.

What a steal of a deal!

Now the next 7 chunks are part of the plan, but I reserve the right to make adjustments along the way:

Days 31-40: Installation – I will place 10 new naturally colored sculpture clusters within 0.5 miles of my house.

Days 41-50: Oaxaca Minis – I will build 10 new 8x8 textile works on canvas from the full Oaxaca color range.

Days 51-60: Bioplastics –  I will brew up all kinds of wonder with gelatin, algae and botanical dyes.

Translucency and botanical dyes all wrapped up in bioplastics.

Days 61-70: Monoprints – I’ve wanted to explore this technique, so I plan to create 10 pieces using only natural colors.

Days 71-80: Three shape challenge - Textile

Days 81-90: Three shape challenge - Monoprint

Days 91-100: Three shape challenge:  Installation

Let’s just say the last 3 chunks are meant to hold my feet to the ‘simplicity’ fire. 

The same artist who enticed me to join #The100DayProject (Natalie Dadamio), also challenged me to ONLY use three shapes in my work during the 100 days.  I figured 3 chunks totaling 30 days fit perfectly into the 3 shapes theme.

The 3 primary colors very cooly represented by turmeric, red beet and blue butterfly pea infused ice.

These three are for you, Natalie!

Cubism

Riding shotgun to my 100 days, Mason has found a teeny space for his geometry book on the dining table that is now smack dab in the middle of my studio, aka our kitchen.

We started solving for volume this past week.  All of the 2 dimensional shapes have introduced their 3 dimensional siblings:  spheres, cones, pyramids and cylinders.

 And yes, the glorious square is full of pride and flaunting its cube cousin just to make me smile!

My trusty installation travel buddies: earth pigment painted paper pulp blocks. Stack ‘em up!

I sure do love cubes…naturally.

The heART of Idaho

In the flow

Sunbeam, an old ghost mining town on the Yankee Fork of the Salmon River, is the geographical center of Idaho.  What a perfect name to describe an area of the world that has been shining it’s light on my heART for 50 years.

Just up the river is a town called Stanley, a mere stone’s throw to Redfish Lake, a place where my family spent many summers exploring the pine forests and mountain trails of the Sawtooth National Forest.  We were like the sockeye salmon of the past, the red fish, returning year after year to splash in its crystal clear waters.

Earth pigment paper pulp installed in Redfish Lake near Stanley, Idaho, August 2019.

If you keep swimming up the Salmon River to the south (yes, it primarily flows north!), the source of its bubbling coolness is hidden near Galena Summit. 

Will always stop at Galena Summit to take this breathtaking view all in!

Carrying tire tubes around our waists and sneakers on our feet, we hunted down the perfect rapids to freeze our bums as we floated our way back towards Stanley.

Now, descending the other side of Galena, you enter the Boulder Mountain Range and the headwaters of the Big Hole River.  Flowing right past Easley Hot Springs, our family’s cabin still stands among the trees, although we haven’t owned it for decades.

The rustic cabin my family owned near Easley Hot Springs where special memories were made.

That doesn’t stop us from still soaking in the mineral pool…

Mason and Zsofi having a soak with their cousins at Easley Hot Springs near Ketchum, Idaho.

Wandering up a nearby forest service road, you find yourself along Boulder Creek in the midst of an aspen grove.  Among all of this endless beauty, however, this place is now where my heART of Idaho truly lies.

Mason out exploring the road that leads to my mom’s resting place near Boulder Creek, Idaho.

Colorfast

There is no doubt that installation would have taken me to Idaho one day, but to create artwork in loving memory of my mom and her resting place was a beautiful honor.  With very little time to prepare, I let the earth be my guide:  organic dyes I brewed from avocado and lichen, natural pigments from around the world and all kinds of stone.

Preparing installation of hand-dipped paper in home-brewed avocado and lichen dye.

As luck would have it, the natural color palette hovered in the ochre and hematite family:  rich yellows, deep oranges and earthy reds.  Ochre has a strong history of being offered to ancestral spirits for their journey in the after-life.  My mom received the same beautiful offering.

Earth pigment paper pulp stacked on a boulder bursting with minerals, Little Redfish Lake, Idaho, August 2019.

Substrates of paper and it’s pulp, ice and river stone held each subtle color that nature provided for my mom.

Ice installation infused with lichen and avocado dye, Big Wood River, near Ketchum, Idaho, August 2019.

Rock on

From Redfish to Boulder Creek, I spent quiet reflective time exploring each site that has brought me so much joy and helped fuel my love of vast landscapes.  My family, however, has always been by my side in Idaho, so sharing an installation that we could build together was the ultimate gift.

Collecting stone from the Salmon River with my loved ones, we each painted a personal creation with mineral pigment to leave by my mom near Boulder Creek.

River stones of the Salmon River collected and ready to paint. Can you see my heART stone?

My family gathered for an evening of river stone painting with earth pigments and walnut oil, Ketchum, Idaho.

Each step along the way held a sacred visual and emotional transformation. 

The uniquely beautiful works of rock art by each member of the Willms Family ready for my mom’s memorial on August 13th, 2019.

The river stones will forever adorn the forest floor at the base of the small pine tree we planted for my mom’s ashes to nurture in the rich Idaho soil.

My mom’s resting place among the pines and aspen of Boulder Creek, Idaho, August 13th, 2019.

I left my heART…

For me, the heART and soul of Idaho is just up the river and over the pass from Sunbeam.   The feel of ice cold water rushing through my toes, the smell of sagebrush warmed by the sun, and the sound of the wind rustling in the trees will always bring me right back.  I’m forever grateful that my mom and her family brought me here so I could fall in love with such an amazing place and leave my creative installation behind.

My heART stone just for my mom, Boulder Creek, Idaho, August 13th, 2019. I love you, Mom!

Now I have the joy of returning to sit quietly with my mom under the whispering aspen and watch as her tree grows towards the deep blue sky.