LITTLE SHELF SHOW
DECEMBER 2024
369 S ROSEMEAD BLVD, PASADENA, CA 91107
“I’ve… never seen a sickbed scene from the point of view of the person in it. A problem with the sickbed scene as painted by the sick person herself is that it would have to be painted on a canvas with no edges, to be too small to measure, to be too large to contain. It would happen outside of time, happen inside of history, exempt the present from the linear, rearrange substance so that blankness is an element, rearrange aesthetics so that the negative is almost all. That kind of painting would be hard to make."
- Anne Boyer from The Undying
Between 2019 and 2023, I was dealing with a painful spine condition and needed to lie down about 80% of the time. I was unable to sit, lift or bend over without it causing a great strain, so my clay practice came to bed with me. I did not find it easy to make art in this state. I was not inspired, and I felt my sparks had been dulled out by pain, pain meds, lack of vit-D, lack of cortisol, lack of eye contact. But I had to make something to keep myself going, and to give meaning to what I was enduring. I’ve often said ceramics is so great because even when not inspired you can make something useful with care. So I started by making little bowls and spoons. Then I moved on to clay boxes when I took Melissa Weiss’ online kurinuki workshop. That technique inspired me. It woke something up. You start with a lump of clay, form it, and find the container. It’s like an excavation; you carve out the interior and find the form from outside in, then to out again. I could meditate on these themes while working on the boxes, spoons and bowls. And I trusted that what I needed to express, what couldn’t be put into words, could be held in the markings and imprints in the clay. The objects here on the shelves represent making during that time, when I was working small scale by necessity, and then, by design.