It is misty, winter foggy out. Now I know when people think of the San Francisco Bay Area weather---fog is on the top of the list and it's always room temp here. Well, it is, for the most part, but we have hundreds of micro-climates within miles. In a day we can witness all the seasons (yes, even a little snow.) I know the climate in my front yard is different from my backyard. Two blocks down it is windy. There's more fog here (I live near the east shoreline) than 8 blocks away where once stood dairy farms and cherry orchards. My house has its own micro-climates as well as my work. It takes on a rhythm. An ebb and tide. And depending on the day, fog or sun, rain or wind, I work fast or slow, messy or neat, singularly or repetitively, intuitively or with a blueprint, or do not work at all.
For the changing climates inside my artist life, I have these canvas covered boards I can carry around and work outside the studio. They are my sketchpads in a sense. The tools and clay bits are from various pieces worked out on this board. It looks like a mixed media composition of interactions with my work and my day.
working on arms and leaf placement on Sheath (l.) with Leaf Gatherer (r.) nearly done
~Henry David Thoreau
|flotsam and jetsam|