The Great Wall of China. Hadrian's Wall. Wall of Voodoo. Wallabies. Walla Walla, WA. Now to the great list of "Walls" we can add Wall of Vixen and Wall of Imp. One hundred little boxes all ready to go, to deliver their cargo to waiting new owners within minutes of ordering this Tuesday.This new first come-first served cart system for selling my editions is a radical new step for us here. No more meandering down a reservation list as one would dawdle down a quiet forest path. We're on a freeway now, gunning it to a known destination to be there on time. Paid orders out same day, or next day, for all one hundred little Vixens and Imps---that's the goal! Customers won't have to wait anymore!
Hubby has been a gem helping me box, wrap, fill and tape up all these little white cubes of anticipation, making me giggle with his quips about "efficiency" and "precision" in my shipping process with his spot-on mock German accent, sounding just like Dr. Johann Krauss from Hellboy 2. We're both big fans of these films, and of Guillermo del Toro's other films and skills as a movie maker---lookin' forward to The Hobbit and The Hobbit 2! Anyway, one of the (many) reasons we like the Hellboy movies is the continuing theme regarding the choices we make, and having to rise to, or learn to live with, the consequences of those choices, both good and bad. Well...Abe Sapien certainly doesn't hurt the movies' appeal for me (I would feed him rotten eggs all day long!), plus Hubby and Hellboy are so similar in personality (except for the temper part), sometimes I swear my husband sprouts red skin, a tail and horns in a certain light. "Ummmmm.....nachos," is directly out of my husband's mouth.
This theme is rather apropos for my life right now, both with this new mode of selling my editions, over which I'm both excited and anxious, but also with the new direction our lives have taken: On Wednesday, Hubby left his place of employment of nearly ten years and is going back to school for two years to learn a new skill for a new job. Have we made the right choices here? They feel right, but doubt always creeps in somehow. Nonetheless, those gears are now set into motion and we must live with the consequences of those choices, for better or for worse. Unfolding uncertainty is always full of foreboding, but also exciting and stuffed with promise!
Another choice I have to make isn't so ominous, but pesky all the same: How the heck do I support this "sproingy" Arabian mare sculpture I'll be starting next month?...
Both Parada and Dar did the "Arabian boing" in turnout as often as they could, and I've been wanting to express this kind of equine joy for a very long time. It's a demonstration of animal elation that makes my soul sing. I actually started this piece right after my back surgery, as soon as my surgeon gave me the "hey ho" that I could start work in the studio again, as an expression of my gleeful freedom from grinding, chronic pain. For that reason, aside from artistic ones, it's very important to me to create a base that doesn't weight her down, or "stop" her motion. I want to maintain the airy, weightless feel of that "Arab sproing." While I have some ideas, I'll have to wait and see how they pan out because what might seem ideal in theory often faceplants in practice! Preserving the "feel" of a sculpture, or rather, the elemental essence of a sculpture, is often more difficult than the sculpting process itself. There are so many design compromises made to the media limitations that must be mediated to protect the energy of the piece, the raw vibrancy that first sparks in our mind's eye at the moment of inspiration.Anyway, I'll be holding my breath on Tuesday to see if all goes well with the new method of selling my editions, and I look forward to the challenges life will present us in our personal lives, and me, in my studio. So if things seem a little discombobulated or scattered these next 2-3 years, trust that I'm trying to find balance with the onslaught of new paths breaking open here!
"It's choice - not chance - that determines your destiny." ~Jean Nidetch