The Blog

My big toe feels cold.

By On November 26, 2011 In Art making With No Comments Permanent Link to My big toe feels cold.Permalink

Must admit I’m feeling a little tentative about sharing my process on this blog. That is not good. Especially considering all the benefits received FROM sharing. So I’ve moved a few things around on the internets. Makes me feel better. And that talk with my lawyer.

Moving on! Besides how can one feel anything but inspired when we have sunrises like this?!

Sarah Regan Snavely studio

This one is thanks to Winchester. The photo, not the sunrise (though he may have something to do with it? Who knows…)  Winchester has decided that I need to get out of bed at 4:07 AM. Exactly that time. Every day. For the last three days.

The benefit of this is that when the sun finally rises at around 7AM, I’m coffeed and awake enough to notice.

Winchester, however, is asleep at sunrise. He is also asleep at 4:15 AM. He goes back to bed after he’s satisfied that I’m awake. I’m still trying to figure out his grand plan.

There are two exhibition opportunities on the horizon. I need two pieces for the January show at the Dickinson State University gallery. This is the same gallery that Mom and I had our show in last march. The theme and title of the show is January Blues. Several artists have been invited to participate. I can’t wait to see how the other artist interpreted the theme.

The sculpture above is one of my offerings. Shown unfinished and unfired. The second sculpture is drying also. I’ll take a few photos and share them next week.

These two pieces have sparked many ideas about a North Dakota themed exhibition. My sketchbook is humming! Where will this take me?

The other exhibition that is coming up is the Art Show At the Dog Show. This is a juried show for canine art. Deadline is January 11th. I encourage artists with work centered around the canine form to enter!

Prairie Dogs.

By On November 25, 2011 In Life in North Dakota, Living with Greyhounds With 5 Comments Permanent Link to Prairie Dogs.Permalink

Took the hounds out for a walk on Thursday morning – out into the countryside. It way a beautiful morning. Immediately I regretted leaving my DSLR camera at home. These photos are from my iPhone.

Black Greyhound in field

Annie - Queen of her field.

Winchester, Sage and Annie with Jason with a glimpse of the buttes in the background.

Sage and his shadow.

And oh did they run. Won’t forget my big camera next time ;)

It doesn’t feel like flattery.

By On November 20, 2011 In Art making With 6 Comments Permanent Link to It doesn’t feel like flattery.Permalink

I’ve heard it said that “Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.” Mine version, created nearly 10 years ago, is in green. The one I stumbled upon on the internet (framed) isn’t mine (except that it is… kinda). Copied?

How about this one? Mine is the sculpture, created for a Greyhounds in Art show in 2003.

Or this? Again, mine in the sculpture created for the March 2011 Dickinson State University exhibition.

Or this?

Complete with emphasized feet?

But the one that kicked me in the gut was this one… Closer look?

Because that was so not cool. So, so not cool.

I want it known that none of these were made with my consent or sold with my knowledge. They are not endorsed by me or made in my studio or by my hands.

 

 

 

How does she do it?

By On October 30, 2011 In Miscellaneous With 2 Comments Permanent Link to How does she do it?Permalink

How does she do it? I mean… walk her Greyhound with the big, round tuft of fur around the hem of her skirt?

No wonder the Greyhound looks so happy!

(from http://www.loc.gov/pictures/resource/npcc.13418/)

 

The nature of clay

By On October 18, 2011 In Art making With 1 Comment Permanent Link to The nature of clayPermalink

The studio shelves are bare except for a few boxes that didn’t make it into the last firing before the big Dewey Beach event. They are now the beginnings of a next firing, the next kiln load.

More than any other time in the year, these weeks after Dewey Beach feel like  a new beginning. Turn it all over, let’s get started again. Feels funny – the weather outside the studio is fall-ish. Trees winding down, losing leaves, getting ready for winter.

But it’s time to get moving again. I’ve got three pieces to start/finish for a January themed show. I need to figure out what I’m going to enter in the Art Show At The Dog Show also in January. And there are the memory boxes that need my attention as well. My store is in need of some small sculptures for holiday gifts.

Clay is a medium of chance and “kiln gods” and luck. It’s also wait and see, timing, and moisture. Time to get moving again.

I ordered more clay today.

 

Hello, World!

By On October 14, 2011 In Buy Art Here! With 2 Comments Permanent Link to Hello, World!Permalink

Been a long time, eh?

Here’s the short of it: had an open schedule, then a full schedule. Trip to Helena, Montana for Archie Bray Foundation’s 60th anniversary celebration/symposium then preparation and trip to Dewey Beach, Delaware for Greyhounds Reach the Beach 2011. All good and much to write about.

So, for those who’ve asked, all is well. Hounds are good. I’m good. Art is good. :)

 

Fun and adventure.

By On June 2, 2011 In Art making With 7 Comments Permanent Link to Fun and adventure.Permalink

In the spirit of the last post I thought I’d try to mix things up a bit. After posting that little whine about the lack of new challenges – jeez, it even makes me roll my eyes – I stumbled on Alyson B. Stanfield’s ArtBizBlog and her current online class. What the heck, let’s try it.

It’s day 2 of 30. I’ve run into trouble.

So the problem presented is to rate oneself from A to F on how well one is doing on seven different categories. A’s and B’s… except for the Fun and Adventure category. That’s one big stumbling block. The glaring F in red pen with a circle around it. Failure.

Because… I’m not that good at Fun and Adventure when it’s mixed in a non-art context. Like “Taking A REAL Vacation”. I read that and my eyes squint, brow furrows. “What does that mean?” complete with head tilt and quizzical look.

I suck non-art Fun and Adventure.

Fun and Adventure within the art context? I got that one covered. I know how to do this. But pull out the Art… and there goes the Business excuse for doing things… and my “This-Is-Not-Prudent” android-like inner voice becomes oh so apparent.

“Why would you want to do that? That’s expensive. You should be working. Remember that email you got three days ago about the (insert piece of art) that you haven’t finished yet? Besides you have XX number of projects to be finished at the library job. And who will take care of your dogs?” Lather. Rinse. Repeat.

I know what fun looks like. It’s why the hounds and I go to the dog park every day. Hands down, dog park time is the best part of the day. It’s the closest I get to non-art fun…. course if I bring my camera then I take photos that I’ll later use for sculptures and other art projects…

But conventional ideas of vacation fun? Like me on a beach with a fruity drink in one hand, lounging on a towel, soaking up the sun? I can’t imagine that that would be fun at all. Or Las Vegas? I am physically incapable of gambling. A cruise? I get seasick on boats.

Totally ridiculous.

So what is fun?

Restless.

By On May 31, 2011 In Art making, Life in North Dakota, Memory Boxes With 2 Comments Permanent Link to Restless.Permalink

I should have scheduled a workshop. Or planned to attend the big event at the Bray. Or a vacation (what’s that?). Something to get away from this place for a while. Something to look forward to.

As it is, I’m waiting for boxes to dry. I’m working steady. Soon they will be dry and I’ll be loading the kiln, glazing and firing. Lots of interesting stuff to do.

But until then… North Dakota is dearth of inspiration. The rains keep coming but my creativity well is running a bit dry. Like the rain clouds… it’ll pass.

Gray and green.

By On May 30, 2011 In Art making, Life in North Dakota With 3 Comments Permanent Link to Gray and green.Permalink

Cold. Wet. Rainy. Gray.

On the bright-side the basement is dry. That can’t be said for most of my neighbors. Or those along the Missouri river here in ND. Flooding. Sandbagging. Stress.

I don’t know how long it has been raining – just that it seems like we’ve had more rain this year than ever. If memory serves, we’ve had three nice days in all of May. I long for 70+ degree weather. I had to turn the furnace on last night.

And no Greyhound Gathering in Kanab, Utah. And no Art Show at Dewey Beach, Delaware this year either. I sit with no set events this year. No finalized engagements. The calendar is wide open with not a deadline in sight. I’m not sure I like this.

But my memory box goal for this month has been met. The boxes are drying and should be ready soon (rain/humidity is slowing the process down… slow drying is a good thing… but it takes forever…) There are also smaller smoke fired greyhound and saluki sculptures ready to be fired. In about a week things might shape up around here. The kilns will be firing, at last. I’m excited for the results. I’m really liking this batch of boxes and small sculptures.

The hounds and I have been squeezing trips to the dog park in between rain storms. I’m not crazy about them running on wet grass, but there has been little choice, of late. They need exercise and while the leash walking does fulfill some of that, it isn’t enough.  The dog park ground is squishy and saturated like a sponge that needs to be wrung out. The hounds don’t seem to mind it or the baths when they get home.

Back to work. May has been a productive month. Memory boxes started. Small sculptures started. Shipped a larger piece (cross your fingers UPS will be kind in shipment). Have two other larger works possibly sold. Am *this* close to completing a $36,000 grant at the library job. It’s all good.

 

 

Friday the 13th.

By On May 15, 2011 In Living with Greyhounds With 5 Comments Permanent Link to Friday the 13th.Permalink

Friday was the 13th of May. Friday the 13th. The day passed and nothing terrible happened. That hasn’t always been the case.

The last time the 13th of May fell on a Friday, Sterling, my first Greyhound died. It was horrible.

Years later, when reading Dr. Patricia McConnell’s book, For the Love of a Dog, I read this quote about her Border Collie, Luke, and immediately thought of my sweet red dog:

He took my heart and ran with it, and I hope he’s running still, fast and strong, a piece of my heart bound up with his forever.

Now as I type this, the quote makes me smile. Like many important losses, the pain isn’t as sharp as it once was. I still think of Sterling. Instead of sadness, I feel more thankful. To have known him. To have learned so much from him.

Aren’t dogs awesome?

The gritty details.

By On May 15, 2011 In Art making With 2 Comments Permanent Link to The gritty details.Permalink

The drying racks in the studio are filling up with memory boxes. I tend to work in batches – batches of small sculpture, or tiles, or boxes, or even big sculptures. It’s been awhile since I’ve made memory boxes.

Sarah Regan Snavely Greyhound Angel memory box

The truth is – they are hard to make. Not the actual construction. There are tools and practice that make that much easier than it used to be. In clay, practice doesn’t make perfect, but it does make “perfect” easier. (Who wants perfect anyway? Perfect is boring. Handmade is interesting).

The reason the boxes are difficult to make is that they are emotionally difficult. Because I know what the boxes will be used for… and that triggers memories of my own losses.

My email inbox always has messages from people seeking boxes. These emails are raw and emotional. I know how it feels – with every email I remember how it has been – how it hurts to lose these creatures – how you are never quite the same.

Strange how thoughts creep in. Like how I’d overheard someone talking about planting trees. “I should plant a tree in the backyard,” I thought. Innocuous enough. But then I realized that I wouldn’t know where to plant that tree. All the good tree spots are occupied. That the yard is a graveyard of dogs past. Really… Even the studio is built over a dead dog’s grave.

I try not to think about it too much, you know? How does an artist bring the emotional sensitivity to the work, without crossing the line into personal grief quicksand? Practice? Ugh.

So as I make this batch of boxes I try to positive. To think of the good parts… There are lots of good parts.

Maybe these memory boxes will bring similar good thoughts to the people who have loved and lost their Greyhounds.

 

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