In May I installed a series of my sketchbooks as part of an exhibit called Sculpting Time at VisArts in Rockville, Maryland. These notebooks represent images and writing that have accumulated over the last several years. I try to write five days a week as part of my process of finding direction and clarifying ideas in my work and life. I write three pages and then paint a page with color which later gets an added collaged drawing. Some notebooks are only visual records of what I am pursing in the clay realm and some are collages of the varied streams of life. They are like the lining of my mind.
This week one of the notebooks was stolen from the gallery. I am stunned. Suddenly the memory of what those pages held gains importance. From each volume I have selected one single page or spread to exhibit, but the whole book lost represents a month or more of personal reflection.
The report that the notebook is gone comes on the heels of the news that my parents' summer cottage has had a major fire. The fire began in the kitchen which is now destroyed. Over the years my mother had brought many of my pots to use there. I am struck by how those objects held snapshots in time. Particular moments are captured in the clay when I experimented with texture, color and simplicity. I may revisit those ideas but I will not be able to make those pots again.
I really liked the notebook that was stolen and so luckily I had scanned many of the images. I had used several of the pages of writing as the basis for other projects, so I know the gist of what the pages held. I plan to recreate a book called The Lost Notebook; rather than mourn its loss, there is the hope that I will come up with something better than the pages that are gone.
"Barn's burnt down ... Now I can see the moon"
Masahide
This week one of the notebooks was stolen from the gallery. I am stunned. Suddenly the memory of what those pages held gains importance. From each volume I have selected one single page or spread to exhibit, but the whole book lost represents a month or more of personal reflection. The report that the notebook is gone comes on the heels of the news that my parents' summer cottage has had a major fire. The fire began in the kitchen which is now destroyed. Over the years my mother had brought many of my pots to use there. I am struck by how those objects held snapshots in time. Particular moments are captured in the clay when I experimented with texture, color and simplicity. I may revisit those ideas but I will not be able to make those pots again.
I really liked the notebook that was stolen and so luckily I had scanned many of the images. I had used several of the pages of writing as the basis for other projects, so I know the gist of what the pages held. I plan to recreate a book called The Lost Notebook; rather than mourn its loss, there is the hope that I will come up with something better than the pages that are gone."Barn's burnt down ... Now I can see the moon"
Masahide
Oh Catherine - how horrible. It's hard to understand why someone steals. And I'm sure it feels so personal & a true violation. Your decision to re-create it - is a perfect way to re-connect & heal.
Also sorry about your parents place. Maybe these things are happening to open space for more . . .
Here's a 'hug!'
It feels so serendipitous to have found your website; it is just the inspiration I need!
I have recently lost my paycheck job (which I did really enjoy, actually), but now have time to reinvigorate my ongoing love affair with clay and paper and pigment and.. well, it all intertwines.
I once had my portfolio of a semesters worth of drawings stolen - nearly twenty years ago, and still I remember the drawings gone!
Boggles my mind that someone is that brash, but then again, it makes me think. Was it really that important to them? MY drawings?
I hope it fulfilled whatever it was they just had to have.
Loss is such a weird thing; it sure does make one think!
Wishing you good fortune today forward - hoping fresh ground has been cultivated (making good use of misfortune) to sow the seeds of something beautiful!
Dear Catherine,
It is interesting how reading or hearing about an event can take one back to a seemingly unrelated time. Reading about the lost notebook took me back to 1978,79...to the revolution in Iran. My parents decided it would be best to send me and my sister to live outside of Iran. A few years later they joined us. Financially we were fine but having to leave all else behind has left me with feelings that are very difficult for me to explain. At times I feel as though my childhood was stolen. "The barn has burned" and often I can not peel my eyes away from the ashes, but when I do the moon shines so unbelievably bright and eternal!
Sorry to hear about the fire at your parent's house and the loss of the pottery and the notebook too. I can't imagine someone wanting a personal notebook and what they might do with it. What a lesson you have shown to re-create the notebook and move forward from here.
This post makes my heart hurt. What do wood fired pots look like after experiencing a home fire? Did they all break from thermal shock of a presumed attempt by fire fighters to get he fire under control? Was there anything visually interesting in your work after it went through this next process? I am sorry about both losses.
Almost everything broke that was in the extreme heat. It was hot enough to turn copper green glazes red. And yes, the shock of fast heat and quick cooling with salt water was too much, as well as shelves crashing down and stuff stored in the attic. I didn't find any shards of woodfired pots. Most of the work in the kitchen was old glazed work of mine.