For current posts, scroll down past artist's statement.

The Muse's Storage Box

The Muse's Storage Box
Copyright Diane Lou.

Alchemical Dreams and Disparate Realities

Rust and bones, broken toys and old text, game boards, gears and nests. Even as a child such odd, unwanted items evoked a pit-of-the-stomach response that bordered on exhilaration.
While I make no attempt to conjure up specific feelings in the viewer, the ambiguous juxtapositioning of familiar materials creates art that evokes half-forgotten, dream-like visions that beg to be interpreted by the viewer. There is a sense of deja vu (the already seen) tempered by a sense of jamais vu ( the never seen, or the illusion that the familiar does not seem familiar), and this contradiction asks the viewer to dig deeply, to look inside her own repository of wisdom, intuition and experience to find her own meaning in the familiar objects she sees.
The once-private discards of people's material lives that I collect for my art seem to carry universal memories with them, memories that can engage and mystify the viewer. Their beauty lies within the rust, the erosion, the wear, and the mere fact that they were once possessions.
I play with abandon and with no forethought. Each piece of detritus seems to suggest to me a relationship with some other piece, and I begin to put them together and wait for the mental "buzz" that lets me know I am proceeding as I should. Even at this point, I continue to remain in the play state and will not allow myself to direct the outcome of the piece, a process that requires complete trust. The outcome often mystifies me as much as it might any viewer.
Remember when, as a child, whatever was in reach became the instrument of your creative exploration? That is my life. A rusty, flattened piece of metal on the street, a gnawed bone by the roadside, a unique twisted branch from a tree, a fallen nest, a broken egg, a snake's skin, a dead butterfly...all will be added to my collection and eventually have their beauty honored in one of my pieces. The resulting art creates a new story with its own imagined history, one that invites the viewers to lay some claim on it by allowing themselves to be enveloped by the sight, the history, and the ambiguity of the realities before them.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Hummingbirds and tulips and people's choice....


Such delicious little pleasures as spring arrives.  Today is absolutely balmy...like a NW foothills summer day.  Nearly 75 this afternoon as I worked in the garden watering and planted more early crops, worked on landscaping around the garden, watched for my Mason bees (I think I saw them.  They are solitary bees that pollinate a great many more flowers than honeybees, and because they are solitary, they are non-aggressive.  They lay eggs before they die, and next spring there will hopefully be more bees.  Also known as orchard bees). 

The hummingbirds returned mid-March as is their habit, and today there were 3 feeding.  While I was in the garage, one flew in through the open door, flew to the window and there got tangled in a long-neglected spider web, so I was blessed with being able to lift it out of the web and hold its weightless body for just a couple seconds before releasing it.

I love that the garden is right beside the studio, so I can bounce back and forth,  so, from the garden to the studio I went.  Over the years I have collected many tiny boxes (6" and under), so recently I challenged myself to use the tiny things I have collected, things so small they get lost in larger pieces, in the tiny boxes and make tiny pieces.  I have about 10 so far, and a couple more in process.  A fun little divergence...  Maybe they'll go into the under $100 show next month at Currents Gallery.

I currently have two pieces in that gallery in McMinnville on our very charming 3rd Street downtown, and I was just notified that one of them won People's Choice.  They are having a Recycled Art show, and I'm told the award ribbon is also made from recycled materials, so I can't wait to see it.  The piece pictured above, #4, was the winner.

We had grandson Jake, age 10, here for a few days of spring break.  Nothing like a super-energetic 10-year-old to wear one out!   That said, his enthusiasm for everything is missed when he is not here.  He's a great kid.

The first red tulip opened today after a month of various varieties of daffodils opening, the crocus coming and going, and the perennials pushing skyward.  What could be better?

No comments: