But What Do You DO All Day?

What do artists do with all that creative free time? I often wonder about other artists, so I thought I would try to wake up this semi-moribund blog and share a little about my latest project.

It started, as so many things in my life have, at a church rummage sale. There was a lovely, odd-shaped bottle sitting on a card table. It was full of ... something that was once perhaps fruit, and it probably decorated a church lady's kitchen, where it looked like jewels in the autumn sunshine. As the years went by, though, it lost its sheen. The fruit broke down into something lumpy and brown, the wax seal on the bottle grew sticky and then dusty. She couldn't bear to just toss it in the trash, though. Not after it had given her so much pleasure. She tucked it into the box earmarked for the church sale.

I scooped it up with a clear vision in mind. I would clean it out, bead to my vision's specifications, someone would instantly fall in love with it and buy it. My visions are fairly diverse but they all have the same ending.

And it sat on my kitchen counter for a couple of weeks before I started to scrub it up. When I opened it, the vinegary smell made my eyes water. I upended it over the sink and all the vinegar ran right out. The fruit was too swollen and wouldn't fit through the neck. I filled the bottle with hot water and shook. One tiny lump of fruit came out.

I dug a pair of long hemostats out of the studio and went out into the garden where there was a fresh breeze. For the next two hours, I painstakingly drew tiny gobbets of ex-fruit down the narrow neck of the bottle and threw them into the garden, much to the amusement of my dog and the disgust of the blue jays.

To be continued...