Recharging The Battery

In my life I try to keep things simple and efficient. Do the things you are supposed to do at the times you are supposed to do them. I mean the times you -naturally- are supposed to do them, not by the rule of an artificial mandate. I visualize this by imagining my “self” as a machine filled with battery banks. Every segment of my life runs on an individual but interlinked battery. The batteries supply power to “types” of energy, such as: artistic, physical, intellectual, literary and other types of energy. In my experience, running the power too intensely and too long in any given facet drains energy to the point of inefficiency. For example, doing too much exercise in a given time period makes you move slow, you need to take a break to let the muscles heal. I believe all aspects of human energy are subject to this.

Nothing is forced in my life, I do “what makes sense”. I let the most charged battery run the show until it is depleted. This doesn't mean I get to skip out on our shared demands of humanity, but it means I arrange those obligations in a manner wherein they fit with my natural rhythm. I work. I work incredibly hard, for extended periods of time. When I “feel like working” I do it. Often, this is for weeks, if not months straight. 12-18 hours per day. I want to do it, it's not tiring. It's not stressful. I'll wake up before dawn, chug a cup of coffee, then blink and it's 9 at night. My energy is focused, and i'm highly productive. Using a fully charged source of energy feels good.

The batteries always run low eventually. Work that should take 30 minutes takes 3 hours and is done 50% as well. That's when it's time to stop. Time to recharge the battery. Time to feed whatever it is in the human mind the food it needs to stock back up on creative energy. In terms of physical activity this would be literal food—in creative endeavors I think the “food” is life experience.

This is not new for me, every year, sometimes a few times, I go on physical and/or educational binges that take me into new realms. One year I was so into solar power I built an 8ft parabolic cooker (which I later took apart because it was too hard to use, tho it'd ignite wood in a few seconds on a sunny day). I work just as intensely at these endeavors as I do on the artistic ones—it feels good to use energy that wants, no, needs to be used. The view of humans being “one dimensional” specialists with our lives I feel is flawed. Not to say that it is “wrong”, but in my experience it isn't real, and at least my mind refuses to work that way. If I exclude those other dimensions of my existence, my mind (and body) seems to suffer such stagnation that it directly translates to the work I create. Boring lives make boring art. Passion is letting your energy flow freely in the direction it demands to flow, for as long as it needs to flow.

The idea of using time inefficiently irritates me, life is short. I believe in using the energy that is naturally available to you. Every day offers an experience to devour, something to learn and grow from, and in this extremely short human existence I want to do it all—I'm a tourist in a human body, hanging out on a tiny planet, and I got lots to do! So, cheers—i'll be doing things that are not art until it's time for the creative energy to flow again!

Creating Complete Thoughts With a Metalworkers Dictionary

It's been almost 6 months since I had time to sit down and write, I think that sums up the pace of life that I have been living. After last summer, when the doctor cleared me to move again, I was off to the races.

I started out with a whirlwind of physical activity. I sat still for 3 months, with 4 months prior to that of not much moving. I biked and walked like a starving man would eat a first meal. In 6 weeks I logged over 700 miles on my bicycle. Those miles were insanely challenging, but who cares—i could fucking move my leg and it didn't hurt. The atrophy was simply a tiny impediment. I'm stubborn, and for the 4^th year in a row I did my Frostburg to the top of Backbone Mtn. Ride.

I walked Oy. A lot. I felt like I had a debt to him. I promised him I'd walk him everyday. Rain or shine. There was a lot of “I’m sorry pup” those months. As soon as I was cleared to walk, the first day, I walked him 2 miles. Both of us were winded!

I got to dive back into blacksmithing too, as it was summer. It felt damned good to go back to work. To swing hammers again. I made stuff. Lots of stuff. Mostly filling long delayed orders, but sneaking in stuff for myself too. I had a lot of time to “think”, so I had a lot to get out.

November came, and I switched to my winter schedule. Until May 1 I work from home, making jewelry, sculpture, or whatever I feel like. I was (and still am) in a jewelry mood.

I started the winter work session with the attitude “go big or go home”. I didn't want to produce a massive amount of work. I wanted to make good work. I wanted to grow as an artist.

I didn't want to make machines this year. I have a huge aesthetic vocabulary and it was time to learn how to use it better. I felt that it's the equivalent of having a dictionary at your fingertips, yet struggling to assemble a meaningful sentence. It was time to start creating complete thoughts with a metalworkers dictionary.

I wanted to carry on with the design discipline I started on last year. Sketch, sketch, and sketch some more. There are enough bad designs in the world, I don't need to create more. I did do some bad ones, yes, but the sketching really minimized that.

I wanted to push myself, and push the technical skills I have. Everything needed to work together. I wanted the language of the jewelry I was going to make to be able to easily translate to sculpture.

Then I started, dove in. Designed. Sat over the sketchbook and drew images. To up the ante, I bought silver—bad designs in silver are expensive and I wanted to force myself to take it seriously.

I worked. 7 days a week, 8-12 hours per day. I didn't have to, but I wanted to. I'm a “working breed” human, and I savor hard work and the potential to triumph challenges. I think I took 3 days off all winter. One because it was -15f with 30mph winds and I wanted to see what it was like to bike (and walk the dog too) when it's that cold, I mean, when am I gonna get to do that again in Maryland? One day was because I found a neat piece of machinery and really liked the idea of a field trip, and one day was because I desperately wanted to ski! But really, this was a working winter!

Every night I sketched 2-4 hours, or more. I designed until I liked what I saw. Some nights I sat, and nothing came. I sat until I found something to grasp. A shape to expand, a line to redraw. Something, I wanted something beautiful, on the paper and I wasn't going to leave the room until I got it.

The next morning I sat with a cup of coffee reviewing the previous nights work. I refined the sketch. Sometimes I scrapped the whole thing and spent the morning drawing again. On most days after the morning coffee and obligatory 5 minute dog cuddle, I was in the jewelry shop working.

I started on the most interesting element of the design and made it. Usually, it did not translate 100% from the sketch, which left me with major design decisions that needed to be made on the fly. I moved slowly and took these decisions seriously, often making several options out of brass before I made the silver one.

I moved slowly this winter, very slowly. Digesting every design decision and trying to let it sink in to my head. Often at night while sketching I sat with the previous days work in hand so I could dissect it. I would break it down to the tiniest curve and how it related to each individual hammer mark. I was after details. Not necessarily controlling them, but I wanted to see them, and understand how they interact.

Now, Feb 28 with the spring season and lighter work schedule coming up, was it successful? It's too early for me to evaluate, but I learned a ton. Both about myself and the medium. I'm really looking forward to getting back to working at Penn Alps (www.spruceforest.org) this May, and getting back to some larger problem solving activities.