I’ve spent a lot of the evening nosing around the internet looking for good ways to market the small sculptures I’ve been finishing in the last month. Without much success, I might add. I don’t need much in a website, but the top results in Google for the search terms that seem best to me are terrible. Maybe I’ll enlist the help of a friend and devise something simple. I’m not in a great hurry, but I need to start thinking about it.

During this search tonight I landed on Etsy, which I’ve known about and actually used in a very cursory manner. Looking for other ceramic artists, I found an Etsy user called Stepanka. This New York City artist handbuilds with porcelain, which is something I don’t come across very often. Her small works, most of which she refers to as “wall pillows,” are soda fired. I really like the end result. If I ever get the chance again I’ll be using porcelain in salt or soda firings in this way.

Something about these hold my attention. I like the contrast, the finish and the delicate yet lighthearted line work.

That’s about all I know of her. The one sentence in her Etsy profile doesn’t say much, and there are no outside links I can find either. Thought I’d share one of her works though. The above work is titled “Standing by the lake” and measures 3.75 x 2.75 x 1.5 inches.

Who pays for environmentally friendly design? asks Architecture + Morality’s Corbusier:

“As I seem to be inundated with new information, advertisements or appeals to make buildings in a green-friendly manner, I find it more and more difficult to ignore the aspect of money in evaluating it all. Somehow I fail to suppress my sneaking suspicion that there’s more than just simply wanting to use resources more efficiently or limiting a building’s carbon footprint - that in reality the green movement in the industry of architecture is eyeing for potential new sources of fees and income. I admit it’s a cynical posture, but om so many places one looks, money is an important consideration when practicing the green way of life, especially when it comes to who is expected to pay for the extra expenditure.”

MoCoffee has opened an Etsy store. See his wares for sale at Mo Coffee’s Art Cafe, such as the following plate titled “George has brains.”

Adding: Coincidental to see the Sally Forth cartoon today (25 April 2008) suggesting part of the reason everything’s going green is because business has discovered how to profit from it.

Clive Thompson’s Wired column in the March issue is a great testament to working with your hands. He starts the piece by talking about his struggle in trying to put a steampunk clock together; his soldering skills were deficient.

“Why am I so inept? I used to do projects like this all the time when I was a kid. But in high school, I was carefully diverted from shop class when the administration decided I was college-bound. I stopped working with my hands and have barely touched a tool since.

As it turns out, this isn’t just a problem for me — it’s a problem for America. We’ve lost our Everyman ability to build, maintain, and repair the devices we rely on every day. And that’s making it harder to solve the country’s nastiest problems, like oil dependence . . . . “

Wasn’t it just last week I talked about the importance of innovation, wondering where it had gone in America? And a couple weeks before that, didn’t I mention a verse in the Bible that exhorts us to “work with our hands?”

Apparently there is a bit of a do-it-yourself (DIY) revolution here in the states as we speak (or type). Scientists, according to Thompson, have discovered how important it is to use your hands — to be mechanically apt — which uses a different part of our brains than “sitting and cogitating.” I recall something in the news last year that pointed to the success of places like Lowes and Home Depot, typical stops for DIY-ers purchasing products for the projects.

I wonder about the accuracy of applying the word “revolution” with respect to the popularity of steampunk and profit margins of big-box home supply stores. Regardless, this resurgence is good news.

Personally, I feel the need for both sitting and cogitating (which is largely what this blog amounts to) and working with my hands. In a culture supersaturated with electronic media, computers and computer related employment opportunities it can be very difficult to get hands-on time with anything. Our jobs are done in front of a computer and our recreation regularly involves televisions, computers and video games. We are a quite sedentary society, which is unhealthy physically and mentally according to the neuroscientists Thompson cites. We use electronics to a fault, perhaps, instead of treating them as tools they act as a crutch. “Notably,” Thomson concludes, “all this is happening outside our broken education system. America is healing itself at the grass roots — rediscovering the mental joy of making things and rearming itself with mechanical skills.”

I happened upon the website of woodworker J. Alexander this morning and thought it warranted props and a link. Basically, the guy builds custom furniture. Here’s a screenshot from his gallery:

What I found noteworthy on this website were a couple of blurbs on the information page, speaking to our generally bland, homogenous, mass-produced visual culture:

Finishing Process

The finishing process is what makes a custom piece of furniture really stand out from its mass produced counterpart. There are no short-cuts around here. Each item is painstakingly finished to accentuate the beauty of the wood and ensure its overall durability.

Cost

Custom furniture is of course more expensive than a lower-end mass produced item, but when compared to high-end brands such as Ethan Allen, Thomasville, and others, my prices are usually very competitive. On top of that, your funiture will have been painstakingly created by hand by a local craftsman.

Kudos to the handmade, to enduring functional (and/or decorative) objects worth keeping around for generations. My great grandfather built two library tables — among many other objects — during his lifetime, either of which I’m sure anyone in my family would love to end up with one day. He crafted a base for one; for the other, my grandfather — his son — hand-carved legs in the shape of elephant heads, the trunks supporting the tabletop, a few years back. Both are beautifully and intricately inlaid, the one in my father’s possession having as a focal point a detailed rose.

A few years back it was pointed out to me — either in a Shaeffer or Rookmaaker writing — that the first person the Bible records the Spirit of God “filling” is an artist.

“Then the LORD said to Moses, ‘See, I have chosen Bezalel son of Uri, the son of Hur, of the tribe of Judah, and I have filled him with the Spirit of God, with skill, ability and knowledge in all kinds of crafts — to make artistic designs for work in gold, silver and bronze, to cut and set stones, to work in wood, and to engage in all kinds of craftsmanship.’”

When I mentioned this fact to a friend I have great respect for a couple years ago he exhorted me to think about it more and see where it leads. Up till now I haven’t made a concerted effort to do this. I don’t know exactly what significance to place on this passage. I’m not a theologian and don’t want to pretend to be a theologian, but I also feel the need to flesh out some thoughts here and see where they lead.

I’ll first state that just because this is the first recorded instance of the Spirit filling a person does not mean it is the first such occurrence. It may not even be the first time in history that God filled an artist with the Spirit. However, there is still the potential for significance in the first recorded occurrence.

Let’s assume that it is significant. If one believes — as I do — that the Bible isn’t just a mish-mash of man-made mythology but a Divinely orchestrated anthology, there is weight to every Biblical observation. I’ll be the first to admit that the Book has been and is still being used to further personal agendas; I’ll be the first to suggest that certain commentaries go too far and end up inferring things that just aren’t there. Nonetheless, an exegetical examination is due every passage.

What are the implications if we take the mention of Bezalel (and his sidekick Aholiab) as significant? First off, it shows the value God places on the visual and built environment. The quality of sculpture, architecture, textiles mattered to God. Was the importance of skilled craftsmen specific to the building of the temple (since it was the House of God), or can we assume that sound craft honors God throughout in the built environment? What would help here is another reference or two to craft outside of the Tabernacle and Temple. At this point I’m not aware of such examples.

Secondly, we might deduce that God values the human ability to craft objects. It’s slightly unclear whether the filling of the Spirit of God is what gave these men their ability to work in gold, silver, bronze, jewelry and wood or if it was their trade and talent beforehand. I believe the men possessed most of their skill before being called and filled. If we continue to read in Exodus 31, verse six in the New King James it says “I have put wisdom in the hearts of all the gifted artisans, that they may make all that I have commanded you.” If these other craftsmen possessed their skills without being filled with the Spirit of God, it makes sense that Bezalel and Aholiab possessed some skill before being appointed to the tabernacle as well. Another reference affirming craft occurs in the book of I Thessalonians, verse 11: “Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, to mind your own business and to work with your hands . . . “

To be clear, I don’t believe that God is making craftsmen and women out to be more important than their peers gifted in administration or teaching or hospitality et cetera. This might be an easy third point to fall into, but it goes against God’s character as laid out in the rest of the Bible. Jesus loved sinners rich and poor when he walked this little sphere 2,000 years ago.

I’ve written sparsely about photography, even though I enjoy it, because it doesn’t seem to fall into the realm of the tactile arts as much as I’d like — especially digital photography where you never set foot in a dark room. Dark rooms are part of why photography is fun.

The last couple of weeks I’ve been putting together some of my and my wife’s better photographs for a calendar as a gift for Christmas. I figured these would be worth putting up here. Long-time readers may recognize a one or two of these that I’ve uploaded to Flickr (or may have actually put in previous posts).

These and some others I’ll probably upload soon to my mostly ignored Etsy shop for sale if anyone is interested. What I like about photography is how it forces me to slow down and intentionally observe my surroundings. It’s a good exercise for me as an artist, even though I don’t really consider myself a photographer.

The following are a few places to find some nice, artsy and/or handmade Christmas gifts:

mLee Fine Art: Woodblock prints

MissionaryArts.com, linking to my favorite page on the site, paintings by Xiaoyang Galas including this piece:

ElegantScarf, for handmade scarves and accessories.

Porcelain by Kim Westad, delicate and unique pottery.

A few of my own sculptures are for sale via this link. As well, if you see something in my portfolio or on my Flickr that you’d like let me know!

Yesterday, while biking to the post office, I went down a somewhat obscure street in my own neighborhood. A few new houses have been put up in the area; one local builder in particular has done a very good job of putting up good-looking homes on vacant lots in the older part of town.

On this obscure street I noticed two newer houses which were recently finished next to a third new home. On the left is this third home:

The two houses next door are done in a much different style, a style that does not exactly meld with the rest of this older neighborhood:

The home featured in the top photograph makes me think of a well-built home in an established and desireable neighborhood, with streets lined with mature trees, close to downtown and the heart of the community. It’s easy for me to think of settling down in a place like this and making it my own. It seems to possess a halo of familiarity, of invitation. This house has gemütlichkeit.

The houses featured in the second photograph look to me like McMansion wannabes. The one in the foreground looks particularly cheap with the white — probably vinyl — siding on the gables over a brick first level. Homes like this make me think of new subdivisions next to distant strip malls, subdivisions with no trees and a plethora of fuel inefficient vehicles. It’s difficult for me to think of settling down in a place like this and making it my own. It gives off an aura of transition.

If a person can have a house with gemütlichkeit, why in the world would they buy (or build) a McMansion wannabe? Then again, I suppose it’s not surprising that this German word has no equivalent in American English. There are, however, equivalents in Danish, Czech, Dutch, Russian . . .

Last weekend my boss went to Denver for a wedding. While he was out there he met an artist. The artist goes by the name Donut David and runs a website called The Yummies. I dug a little deeper and found that Donut David has an Etsy store. The profile on the store says the following:

“Our motto is ‘Art and Peanut Butter.’

The Yummies is a full time collective that does art about the joys of life otherwise known as ‘Peanut Butter.’

We started in 2003 doing paintings, clothes and performances.”

I’m a little confused about how to separate Donut David from The Yummies. For character profiles on The Yummies see this link.

From what my boss could tell, Donut David used to be a tagger. At some point in recent years he became a Christian and began painting instead of vandalizing. The only other thing my boss could tell me was that he actually makes a living, apparently, selling his paintings. His works are for sale on The Yummies website and Etsy; see his MySpace page here.

His current work is a massive series of small cartoon-like dogs:

His use of mixed media is nice and the series’ consistancy is commendable. The layering on the surface is dynamic in some of the paintings. However, I still don’t empathize with work that so openly displays marks that more or less look like undeveloped craft. The dogs look like southern preacher folk art with a big city sensibility; the result is something like pop art without the precision of a Warhol or Lichtenstein.

Is it difficult to take serioulsy the art of someone who’s motto is openly “Art and peanut butter?”

A few weeks ago I realized something. I’m passionate about living spaces. This isn’t really a revelation. What it is is a succinct way to describe how I’m wired. I’ve been interested in residential architecture since I was twelve years old. This new phrase, however, causes me to think differently about choices I’ve made in the past and will make in the future.

I had coffee with Joel Armstrong this morning. Afterwards we put my bike in his van and drove to his house to pick through the treasures in his garage. From there we drove back towards my place. This is where the story gets interesting — and where it relates to my passion for home interiors.

If I were driving we would have turned down Jefferson to get home. Joel stuck to Main Street, which is not really much slower. Main goes through downtown. It goes right by the Siloam Springs building I spoke of a few weeks ago.

When I looked at the building with a realtor two years ago I saw a piece of furniture, an antique buffet. The buffet stood out in the dusty unfinished second floor space. I almost called the owners and asked if I could have it. I regret not doing that. I told my friend who has a contract on the building I wanted it and he said sure, although neither of us knew if it would still be there when he signed the papers.

So Joel and I drove by said building on Saturday. A sign on the window said “free stuff.” We like free stuff (and I knew the buffet might be in there) so we stopped. We wandered into the building and another “customer” pointed out who was in charge. Just as I was about to get the opportunity to talk to the owners, the ones giving the stuff away, the lady right in front of me found one of the doors from the buffet in a pile of stuff. She asked the owner what the door went with and when the owner pointed to the glorious buffet the lady was almost giddy. And claimed it immediately.

The buffet was in better shape than I remembered (other than one of the four curved doors being off of it). It’s about 40 inches tall. I failed to note the flavor of the exterior veneers, but the inside of the doors were birds-eye maple. It boasted clean shelving and built-in drawers for, I assume, silver. Some of the inlay on the outside of the doors needed attention, but I happen to know that the claimer’s husband is a cabinet maker with an enviable wood shop. This same claimer also goes to my church and lives immediately next door to good friends of mine.

Even after she claimed the majestic piece I asked the building owners where it came from. They said it was left by a tenant who couldn’t pay rent. That tenant was apparently a nephew of the late Wal-Mart heiress Helen Walton. History like this adds incredible value to such an antique, although had I been able to take the thing home I would have kept it. I gave this piece of information to the claimer on our way out of the building, infusing her with another round of giddiness. She hurried back into the building to ask more about the history after calling her husband and telling him to “Come now! Bring truck!”.

If I would have stepped into the building 60 seconds earlier the buffet would have been mine. The claimer said she was willing to wrestle for it. I should have taken her up on this offer.

Of course, it seemed we were a couple minutes too late for any of the good stuff. There were two other interesting pieces of furniture — one a disassembled wardrobe as beautiful as the buffet — that the other couple milling around in the junk already claimed. As it was the building owners (reputed in town for their apparent unwillingness to keep up or sell at reasonable prices the many downtown buildings they own) hadn’t even decided amongst themselves what they were giving away or keeping. The one other thing I really wanted, a little balance scale, they decided they were keeping. I would have used the scale for weighing out materials in glaze-making. I went home with a couple antique-y things for my dad, hardly qualifying as any kind of consolation prize.

Is it insane to obsess so much over a dusty old piece of furniture? I spent the next few hours thinking about this whole scenario. First of all I wondered why God, in whom I believe strongly and trust to take care of me (even if this is in ways I don’t understand), would allow me to even see the “free stuff” sign. Why did He pick this Saturday for Joel to insist I go back to his house? Why didn’t I suggest Joel take Jefferson instead of letting him keep driving down Main Street? If we wouldn’t have seen the sign I would never have known what I missed out on, that I was less than a minute from getting this wonderful piece of furniture for free, a piece of furniture I had longed for for two years or more. I would have assumed, after my friend signs the contract on the building in September, that the owners took it with them. It was never guaranteed that I would get it.

And it would have been less torment if we arrived at the building later, after the claimer drove off with the buffet. The claimer who I will now see every week at church, reminding me of my loss. It says in the Bible, in the book of James, that we are to rejoice in tribulation. For me this is tribulation.

I hope I came across as civilized to the claimer. I didn’t take her up on her wrestling challenge. I tried to say encouraging things, although I can’t remember exactly how any of them came out. I remember saying something like, “Well, I’m glad there are other people in Siloam with such good taste.” I’m not sure if this came out in a positive or negative way to the hearers. I did call my friend, the claimer’s neighbor, and suggest he go next door and lust after the beautiful object (said mostly in jest, of course). My friend didn’t do this, which I suppose I should be thankful for.

Part of my interest probably stems from being a dumpster-diver, from my keen interest in salvage and restoration. This was a find, an incredible find. And the claimer knew it. And I’m sincerely happy for her. I’m just quite sad for myself. And my wife, who was with me when we saw the buffet two years ago, is almost as sad.

What will I learn from this experience? Am I supposed to learn something, or am I just supposed to give grace which in turn will make God look good — which I’m perfectly OK with and which God deserves from us. Or maybe I was supposed to wrestle this woman, probably only five years older than me (roughly). Maybe my wrestling her for this beautiful piece of furniture would be kind of like Jesus’ anger at the vendors in the Temple. After all, I do believe that my passionate interest in beautiful, tactile things is a gift from God.

I know, I know, that last one is more than a little bit of a stretch. Truth is I have know idea why God allowed this to happen in my life. I may never know.

Part of the humor in the whole adventure was that Joel didn’t come away with much free stuff either, and he’s as much of a salvage monkey as I am. He kept asking for the junkiest and most obscure little items — an old sign, spools of wire — which the owners of the building decided on the spot they were keeping. Old, half-used spools of steel wire they keep, and significant, wondermous antique furniture formerly owned by the Walton family they give away! How incredibly strange this seems to me!

I know that I will look back on the morning and laugh.

Once I get over my insane sadness. Once I stop kicking myself for not being more aggressive, for not walking into the building and yelling “Where’s the buffet that used to be upstairs? I want it!” which, my wife will tell you, isn’t all that much out of character for me.