BEACH WALK

This is a 10"x40" sculpture I just finished called "Beach Walk." Nothing is real - all the elements are sculpted from styrofoam and paper, then painted to look real.

"BACK TO LIFE"

I'm done with the dormant and ready for things to start coming back to life!

*This is a sculpture, called "BACK TO LIFE." The sea pebbles, mussel shells, and seaweed are made of styrofoam, aluminum foil, and paper, coated with a mixture of plaster and paper mache, then painted to look real. It measures 1'x3.'

FALL LEAVES AND TRILLIUM

The following is a 12"x 72" sculpture I made entitled "Fall Leaves and Trillium." The leaves and trillium flowers were hand cut and sculpted from paper, then painted - the rocks were sculpted from a mixture of plaster and papier mache.

Those fall leaves are certainly falling! It was a perfect Halloween last night: 60 degrees, a big bright moon, and a spooky wind - swirling leaves, costumes and imaginations.

THE SUMMER SEA

I've been dreaming of the summer sea: rolling above - roiling below - lifting and leaving pebbles in layers (who knows how deep) to bake in the sun like salted potatoes. Russets, Red Rouge, Yukon Golds, Peruvian Blues, and Purples - fat, waxy, and round; it's a balancing act walking atop their warm, arched backs in search of the perfect shell.

As the sea tumbles in, they grumble and moan - sounding as if they are tired and a little fed up. As the sea washes out, they seem to have had a change of heart... they're singing! They seem lighter on their feet - more rested and hopeful - as if they are willing to give it another try. 

* I sculpted, then painted these pebbles and shells - trying to capture the summer sea. 

MAINE TO MEXICO, MEXICO TO MAINE

A trip from Maine to Mexico is an epic journey - even with a GPS, map, and compass. The Monarch Butterfly manages to flutter these same mind-blowing 2,000 miles south on papery wings - armed only with instinct and propensity. These southbound butterflies never return to Maine; the Monarchs we see in June aren't directly from the wintering grounds of Mexico - these are their offspring. Their migration northward follows the emergence of the milkweed.

No one has taught them the how-tos of getting home, but amazingly enough - by the millions - they do. I wish more people could find the same awe and interest in such quiet and "ordinary" feats of nature as they do in their iPods, Xboxes, Blackberries, and Wii's. 

* I sculpted this "Maple and Monarchs" from styrofoam, papier mache', paper, and paint. 

PERSEVERANCE

I made this sculpture with "perseverance" in mind: maintaining a purpose in spite of difficulty, obstacles, or discouragement. Sometimes the only thing left to do is the impossible; never give up - you never know what waits for you on the other side of difficulty.

"A rock pile ceases to be a rock pile the moment a single man contemplates it, bearing within him the image of a cathedral."  Antoine de Saint-Exupery

POCKETS FULL OF SHELLS

One of last things my mother said to me before she died in April of 2001 was to "Notice the little things Toni." I rolled those words around in my head as I took long nature walks everyday that Spring, Summer, and Fall. I gathered pockets full of shells, leaves, stones, and twigs - not knowing at the time what I might do with them. I had no desire to paint - the actual distance between the brush and the canvass felt cavernous - too far removed from the urge I had to actually get my hands into the materials. One day, out of the blue, I decided to reproduce some birch bark I had collected - just to see if I could do it. That led to an entire series of sculptures I called my "nature studies." I "noticed the little things" - those pockets full of nature I had been collecting would be the "models" for sculptures. Those fallow three seasons marked the downtime I needed to gather the seeds for the next couple years of work.

The making of "Mussel Shells and Sea Glass."

I sculpted hundreds of mussel shell "blanks."

I painted hundreds of mussel shell blanks; it was repetitive, methodical, and required attention to detail - just what I needed to occupy my eyes, hands, and brain while working through the grief around my mother. I thought of myself as one of those prisoners who sculpt entire miniature villages out of countless tooth picks or popsicle sticks - because they have nothing but time on their hands, and creativity as their escape.

Here's the end result. It measures 1'x6'.

And here's a close-up of "the little things." 

MAGNOLIA BLOOM AND BUD

I grew up with a magnolia tree outside my bedroom window. The window that framed this fragrant beauty had a southern exposure; my other window looked west - up the driveway. My two brothers shared a room on the northern side of the house - their two windows faced west. I've wondered what effect our different vistas may have had on our individual perceptions of morning, the seasons, and bedrooms. They'd wake in a cool, dark cave - no matter the time of year. For me, spring was a pink blush of perfume and hummingbirds. Summer, I'd wake to sunlight dancing to the tune of rustling leaves. Fall was a gilded glow of enchantment, and winter's branches were adorned in frosted lace and cardinals. I don't remember anyone choosing who got which room, but they definitely got ripped off.

I sculpted this life size magnolia branch from wire, plaster, paper, and paint.