Friday, July 30, 2010

Lonely boy

I had this weird thing happen yesterday as I was working on this sculpture. I got a book at the library on Mexican Santos carvings and after seeing all the Jesus art yesterday, I had this idea to put Jesus in one of my barns. I had a photo of a sitting Santos that I was sort of using as a model, but the more I worked on it the more it became this lonely boy in an abandoned house. Then I cut the windows out and as the afternoon light came in through the windows, strange light and shadow starting happening on this thing. I got really emotional thinking about this lonely abandoned child, and had to walk away, I came in the house with tears in my eyes and told Wes about it. She said, "that is so cool, that your work is doing that to you". I wish the camera didn't change what I see, this house looks much better in person, the camera seems to distort angles a bit.
I'm not that great at human sculpture, I get the proportions all wrong. I'm just sort of winging it here, but this little guy is really interesting to me. While I'm working on these houses I have a lot of thoughts about the past, more than you would ever need to know, and it gets very emotional. Much as I would love to make functional bowls and mugs, this is where I am being drawn so this is the path I am trying to stay on right now to see where it leads. My wheel is sitting clean and unused, hopefully one day I'll get back to it, but for some reason, this is where I feel compelled to be right now, so I'm going with it.

12 comments:

Sister Creek Potter said...

I envy you your sense of direction. It seems that you are really onto something important. I'm sure the connection you have to the barns, while making them, is at least part of the reason they come out so strong. You are right to follow that trail. I can't speak for the little lad but obviously he speaks to you--fantastic!

Monique said...

As an art-therapist I can only salute you!
It seems that something inside of you wants to be expressed and you have the courage to follow that (and to blog about it!).
I would say go with the flow an try not to much to think about it. In my modest opinion this is where great art is born!

ang design said...

look at those lil windows how cool trace, that whole lighting and shadows thing is just gorgeous on raw clay... you've reminded me of a book cover i shot in college for 'the contortionist wore red' i made these figures from pipe cleaners and shot them on a black stage with my photography lecturer blowing smoke through holes in the roof of the stage like spot lighting!! ha wouldn't get away with that today...funny thing lighting affects causes all kinds of responses to imagery.....wow that was long!!! what i meant to say really was NICE WORK TRACE!!!!!

cookingwithgas said...

sweet- ride along Tracy and we are happy to go with you.

FetishGhost said...

Working from the heart can be an uncomfortable joy.

Looks like you might have a new path to play on, bringing figurative work into your barns instantly transforms them into open narratives.

Love the lighting.

Michael Mahan said...

That's such a cool photo - the close-up. It seems to capture the emotion that brought those tears to your eyes.

Linda Starr said...

We often seem to be traveling on parallel planes, I have been called recently to sculp primitive dolls. The boy indeed seems despondent and lonely to me. He reminds me of a small boy who sold me a woven cotton hammock in Baja Mexico in 1974; I still have that hammock.

Hollis Engley said...

Great stuff, Trace. This building thing is leading you somewhere, isn't it?

Liz said...

this is a very touching sculpture. Beautiful in the raw, and I love the proportions of your figure. It draws to mind the gangly uncertainty of a boy in transition.
There are enough of us making bowls, this is beautiful and important work. Lizten to your heart, it knows where you need to be.

Amy said...

the shades of the light inside the house on that last picture are beautiful too.... i like your honesty.

FuturePrimitive Soap Co. said...

Top Quality. I dunno what else to say...but that! x

Kari Weaver said...

I am always amazed at how certain experiences can manifest themselves elsewhere in our lives. I don't believe in coincidences, and I don't take any encounter lightly. They all have meaning.

Anatomically correct proportions do not make a sculpture good. You've captured body language and emotion in that boy. We can feel his loneliness.