Running in Circles / March 25, 2018 by Hayden Michelle

On the last day of January, 2018, I decided to return to a practice of painting watercolors into circles, one which I began late in 2013. Until this point, I had painted these very sporadically, and stopped completely for two and a half years, during which time we had a fire and shortly after, my mother died. My energy was directed into restoration and recovery, and any creative time was channeled into encaustic work and photography. Looking back, I wish I had been able to find the energy to paint during that time, knowing it would have brought respite and healing. I came to realize that I really missed the stillness and introspection that came from letting the pigment flow with the water on paper, and could not find a satisfying rhythm by just painting them here and there.

So I decided to see what it would be like to paint them daily. One underlying motivation was that I wanted to transition to a practice of visual journaling, a chronicling of my life which I would feel at ease for my boys to sort through some day when I am gone... a bit of encrypted self-work. Another is that I knew this fine motor work would exercise different parts of my brain and hands than my encaustic sculptural work, and would benefit from this strengthening. The third reason is that I trusted that it would bring ongoing creative flow to my noggin, and perhaps become a bridge to my encaustic work.

Thus far, I have experienced a wide range of feelings, beginning with joy. It has been exciting to have a goal each morning awaiting at my desk, watercolors, brushes, and paper set out at the ready before bed, providing motivation to begin early each morning. It has also made me connect with the understanding of how my mama could have gotten up at 4:30a every day, before the barrage of kiddos and daily responsibility came to greet her.

Quietude and solitude is something which I have been deeply craving, and this daily practice has helped pull me out of a bit of a rough spot.

This sole feeling of joy shone for a few days before it was joined by a few other feelings... anxiety, uncertainty, resistance, and curiosity. When I began reflecting on these emotions, I realized how predictable it is for them to arise when I go outside my norm and into new territory. I am used to creating-- that part was only difficult in that it made me a bit afraid I would run out of juice, lol... but what was more anxiety-producing for me was the public sharing of them. It is a huge jump for me to be posting daily, considering I had 4 Instagram posts in all of 2017 :). I hope, perhaps, this will eventually enable me to become more comfortable with this aspect of sharing my artwork more widely. That is not an easy part of growing my art practice, despite very much wanting and committing to share my art with others.

It is interesting to confront those inner parts of myself that can be in conflict with one another over and over again (speaking of circles), and always allows for deeper processing of old patterns and beliefs. Always, there is opportunity for growth and the changing of things which keep me feeling less free. I am so grateful for the vehicle of art that gives me a looking-glass into which I can peer and learn about parts of myself that are not so easily seen, let alone, translated through words.

And so I return to the joy I feel every day as I experience the palpable connection with others. This is a gift that I was not expecting-- that these simple renderings that come out of my head, heart, and hands are seen and have meaning for others, and that the reflections shared back with me regarding what people perceive, feel, and think, continue the cycle that started simply with putting pigmented brush to paper. The circle grows!

I am grateful to watch this circle widen and deepen, privileged to glimpse into the creative part in each of you. And I am happy to compile a recap in my blog for those who connect with me here in this space (if you would like to see the reflections I post along with each circle, please find me on FB or Instagram, in my links, above). Please subscribe to my blog (click subscribe link, below) if you have not yet done so. It is wonderful to have ongoing relationship with you all. Thank you for your offerings and encouragement... you are deeply appreciated, as always.

The Transformative Power of Art / January 25, 2018 by Hayden Michelle

I am honored to be featured in the Winter 2018 issue of International Encaustic Artists' encaustiZINE magazine, "Art and Transformation", alongside fellow artist friends, Melissa Hall and Michelle Belto, and to have my work, "Migration, Interrupted", featured on the cover. Huge thanks to editor, Melissa Rubin, and International Encaustic Artists for creating this wonderful resource that keeps us inspired and connected!

A digital publication of International Encaustic Artists.

Please hover over the image above and use right and left arrows to peruse the entire issue, accessing full screen by clicking on lower right brackets. It is full of powerful ways that these artists use art for transformation in their lives and for those who encounter their beautiful art. I am privileged to be included in this issue, as it is a theme near and dear to my heart.

In the Spirit of Hope / January 11, 2018 by Hayden Michelle

It is hard to believe that we are into the new year, and I wish belated tidings to all for this upcoming year. I have been away from the blog for some time, but holding space for returning. There has been much hard work in the past many months-- physically, emotionally, spiritually, artistically. I would like to back up and share about the most recent work that was on exhibit at Atlantic Gallery in New York City, curated by Melissa Rubin, and juried by Ingrid Dinter. The call to entry had perfect timing in my life...

Instantly intrigued by the complex theme from the International Encaustic Artists Association for their upcoming exhibit, "Hopeful Darkness", I jumped to work to begin exploring the possibilities for articulation. I appreciated the challenge of creating work which depicted this dichotomy, both of which I hold as vital for exploration and expression.

As the IEA shared in their call for entry, "Two states of being with such opposite meanings, fit so beautifully together and can create a powerful statement:

Hopeful= believing something good will happen; auspicious; bright; encouraging; optimistic; promising.

Darkness= devoid of light; dismal; gloomy; secret; possessing depth and richness.

These are concepts which we all grapple with on a daily basis... globally, nationally, and in our communities and personal lives. There was plenty of meaning for me when this call for entry came out in July. And then in August, when the truth of this took on further significance, with a diagnosis of MS. As the weeks and months followed this newly labeled piece of self to be absorbed and addressed, so did the layers deepen for the work I was creating for this entry.

I reflected much on wholeness, as expressed in my last post, and created a piece by this name.

"What Does It Mean to Be Whole?", (18 x 17.25 x 4.5 in), 2017 — "What Does It Mean to Be Whole?", (18 x 17.25 x 4.5 in), 2017

And I created a second piece, titled , "Trust that Light Will Return".

"Trust That Light Will Return", (12 x 16 x 6.5 in), 2017

I reflected on the importance of holding on to hope for peace following difficulty, and the amazing power of our bodies and minds to be resilient and to regenerate to meet life's unexpected comings with courage and growth.

The third piece submitted, "Rebirth", held both the concept of lightness and darkness within its carefully folded, yet opening, petals. This is the piece that was chosen to be included in the Hopeful Darkness Exhibit (Nov. 28- December 16, Atlantic Gallery, New York, NY), and I was surprised by my own realization, days after notification of acceptance, that the base photograph of locust thorns contained the same thorns that were used photographically as well as in their true biological form on the bovine pelvis sculpture, entitled, "Tear Bottle", for the IEA exhibit 2 years ago (you can read the journey of that piece on blog date December 7, 2015, Another Way of Keeping a Diary, Part II... hyper link is not working). I had no idea at the time of creation of that sculpture the challenges that would present themselves in the 2 years that followed, as difficult parts of life are always unpredictably interwoven in the unfolding of our lives.

" Rebirth", (5.5 x 7.5 x 7.5 in), 2017 — " Rebirth", (5.5 x 7.5 x 7.5 in), 2017

What has shone most brightly throughout all of these experiences is that there was hope that was always present, and much love and light that did return. I know it is my challenge, during this new phase, to keep searching for the light that is always there behind the clouds, and to support others in their search. I am sending this light out to all of you for the journeys in the year ahead, grateful, as always, for the interconnection between us all.

What Does it Mean to Be Whole? / October 14, 2017 by Hayden Michelle

The morning after my family witnessed the eclipse, a second shadow came into view. I heard words spoken by my neurologist that I was not expecting— a diagnosis of MS. It is not that I thought I was immune to this or any other life-changing diagnosis. I know many, one who is near and dear to me, that live with this condition with grace and courage and deep strength. I know from personal and professional experience in hospice, that change and loss can strike at any time, ready or not. And I am very aware that there are far worse conditions. And still, it has stopped me in my tracks.

I have been sitting with this for weeks, trying to let it settle into place in the awareness of my being. I am not wondering, “why”… more, it is that I am contemplating. “How”—how I am going to incorporate this new aspect of living into the daily flow of raising and homeschooling our children and helping them cope, being strong and balanced in our marriage, available and supportive of my friends, family, and community, and yes, make art.

And what I keep coming back to, amidst the feelings of bewilderment, sadness, anger, fatigue and especially fear, is that I will just do it like I do any other not-so-easy thing that crosses my path. That is what we all do-- we use what we know, and apply it to the new reality. It is not mysterious, even though it feels daunting. We just need to keep putting one foot in front of the other, with the self-talk/reminder that we can do more than we think we can do.

I chuckle to myself, aware that although I have several rote phrases I rely on inwardly when feeling challenged by life, that this challenge is not one that will be going away. I will have to walk the walk, and pull upon inner and outer resources in new ways. And relying on others or asking for help is not my forte. Not so much. That is why being a social worker was natural for me… I am quite at ease in offering support to others. Now I must meet myself with the same loving-kindness that is easy to offer outwardly, and remain open to the gift that comes from this vulnerability, yet again.

The visual and emotional memory of seeing the eclipse in totality was unlike anything I have ever experienced. As the moon made its’ way across the path of the sun and aligned completely, intensely radiant white light erupted around the entire periphery of the moon’s silhouette. It was a brilliance which could not even be fully transmitted through photography, yet, thankfully, is forever etched into my mind. It made me cry, as I felt such profound purity, hope, beauty, and awe that this symbolism was put into form we could record with our own eyes and memory.

The eclipse being so closely paired with the MS diagnosis, has made me ponder how to use this as a symbol for healing and transformation as I begin treatment and management of this disease. Just as I work with fragmented parts to create entirely new entities with my art, so must I apply these principles to living with this disease. I am deepening my awareness and gratitude for the ability to move, speak, maintain independence, and receive help and support. I am deeply grateful for the work and dedication of all of the scientists, doctors, and patients who underwent clinical trials in order for medicines to be available for me now. I know I must take this gratitude and channel it into actively transforming my daily challenges, and hope I can do so in the same way I approach my art… as remaining open to new possibilities of being, new ways of expressing, and courage to share the journey, hopeful that perhaps it may help someone else navigate a difficult part of their trek.

And as much as I have slipped into feelings of brokenness and fear of my brain/ body/ mind not returning to its healthiest state, I realize I must focus on trust and on the concept of wholeness, just as moon is whole, no matter its phase. Despite being changed by what we experience, whether it be trauma, illness, loss or any challenge on life’s path, we are all still whole inside. Thank goodness for that, and for the inner wisdom and vocal loved ones who remind us of that when we need it. As the light brilliantly surrounded the moon, so am I aware of a fullness of love and compassion in the circle in which I am blessed to be encompassed.

The Space Between / August 6, 2017 by Hayden Michelle

This summer has been going by swiftly, full of both activity and stillness. As the days have gone by, I have had much opportunity for reflection amidst the flow. I have pondered the relationships between our inner and outer bodies, in mind, biological structure, and spirit, as often what is happening inside our bodies and minds is not registered outwardly.

"The Space Between", (56 x 14 x 7 inches)

I have thought about how we, as human entities, are connected not only to ourselves, but to each other, through family, friends, community, and the larger world, and beyond to the universe of which we are a part. The ripple effect is beyond words and knowing, and I continue to ponder...

I have been especially introspective on how we change as our bodies age, our children grow, and we are faced with the ups and downs of life, being challenged to meet the changes with the grace and tenacity so abundant in nature.

I am grateful for the reminders that surround, and for the presence of loved ones who bring home this privilege of being loved and supported. May we all continue to support one another in our journeys.

Bridging the Gap / June 19, 2017 by Hayden Michelle

Lately, I have been reflecting on the common thread that has been running through my work as I continue to create winged creatures and beings that propel through the ocean. As I look back over the last year, taking in the experiences that have transpired, it becomes obvious. It is my need to explore the alterations that come when we experience life events such as death, changes in health, growth of our children, the deepening of relationship within ourselves and with others while remaining rooted to this earth, full of global and community fluctuations and challenges that are never-ending.

"The Power of Presence", (18 x 18 x 3.75 in), cradled panel

Art-making may start as a way of coping, giving voice to emotions in form and concept that are not easily found in words, and often remains unconscious as I dive into the work. I take comfort in the deliberateness, exploration, and hard work of creating, and of getting lost in the countless hours of being immersed. Somewhere along the way, a sculpture morphs into a new being that embodies the symbolism and energy of what is happening in my life as I make the piece. And I always end up feeling a bit startled by this when it is completed, as there are new teachings in it for me every time.

"Night Vision", (12 x 12 x 4.75 in), cradled panel

Some days the pieces themselves speak of the meaning, and some days it is the process of making the piece that teaches me. I learn a lot about my own resistance, irritation, perserverence, relief, discovery, faith, and joy in the making. That is not part of what I initially expected when making art, but provides me with perspective and insight every time I complete a piece (or choose to “compost” it, letting the lessons learned to transfer to new work). Who knew that letting go would be such a part of art, whether in the process of making, putting it out for others to view, or releasing for others to bring it into their world. Good practice for this life, I dare say…

"Linger", (12 x 12 x 4.25 in), cradled panel

Art has a way of capturing elements which may be deeply personal for the artist, yet open to fresh interpretation by the viewer each time it is experienced anew. That is powerful, and drives me to keep creating. I love that phenomenon when viewing others’ artwork, and know how much an impact that taking in of art has on my psyche. It connects me to the creative energy that resides in us all, strengthens the ability to be with one another, and to feel part of the greater whole.

We all go through daily transformation as our lives change, and my continued hope is that art brings beauty, peace, reflection, and deeper meaning to our lives. I feel immense appreciation for all those who share in this process in a myriad of ways, privileged to be part of this interconnectedness. May we all feel supported in our metamorphosis...

"The Soul of Forgotten Materials" / May 28, 2017 by Hayden Michelle

"Awake", self portrait, (26 x 38 x 24 inches), 2017

Last week I had the privilege of attending sculptor, Geoffrey Gorman’s workshop, "The Soul of Forgotten Materials". It was a most powerful experience. Held on the nurturing, spacious, historic grounds of Patricia Baldwin-Seggebruch’s home and studios (aptly named, “Encausticastle”), four days evolved in the blink of an eye.

Front view of Encausticastle (image credit to artist, Melissa Hall)

Five other women and I listened and watched as Geoffrey generously shared his techniques, insights from 20+ years’ experience in the art world prior to beginning his sculpting (with years as a furniture maker before that), and bits of his life story. His connection to animals and nature was palpable, and the stories told deepened the power of his sensitive pieces, each containing reference to something from his life. This is the kind of art that I can sit with indefinitely… I found myself just wanting to hear more about the energy in the creatures, while trying to absorb the technical aspects of their making. Art that evokes mystery and intrigue while connecting to deeper spirit calls me every time…

"The Courtship of Purcit and Osmia", Geoffrey Gorman

Geoffrey Gorman cicada sculpture, brought in from personal collection of one of the workshop women... so helpful to have a completed sculpture to hold, touch, and study (and not at all fragile, contrary to the cardboard on which it was resting... I … — Geoffrey Gorman cicada sculpture, brought in from personal collection of one of the workshop women... so helpful to have a completed sculpture to hold, touch, and study (and not at all fragile, contrary to the cardboard on which it was resting... I thought it was a funny, but I am easily amused)!

"Creatures of Curiosity" Exhibit, Geoffrey Gorman... this really shows the scope and depth of his amazing mind and unending talent... how I would love to be in the midst of this menagerie of creatures... (you can view much more of his work on his si… — "Creatures of Curiosity" Exhibit, Geoffrey Gorman... this really shows the scope and depth of his amazing mind and unending talent... how I would love to be in the midst of this menagerie of creatures... (you can view much more of his work on his site -- totally worth a long cup of coffee and much ponderance).

Geoffrey talked with his artist hands as much as his words...

But it was not all seriousness—oh, no! Alongside the 5 other women, there was much humor and laughter in the midst of the thoughtful and skilled guidance. I never dreamed I would laugh so much in 4 days of a heavy-duty workshop, and think it speaks to the joy present in the making and the gathering of the creative spirits in each of us… not to mention that Geoffrey has a most wonderful sense of humor that he weaves throughout all aspects of his teaching and sharing. This exuberance and appreciation for life and making art was ever-present, and felt like a contagious energy that we all were eager to catch. It was really interesting and amusing to see how this vibe grew as the days went by, and we all came out of our shells more and more as the days passed.

This unfolding of openness is something that always reminds me of my time in the social work field, where the strengthening of bonds in a group becomes apparent. It is in this closeness that each lets out snippets of their own lives, ways of working, and viewpoints on the world, which enables us to come out of the experience far richer than when we entered into it. What a gift, indeed. Watching each other approach the work, from conception to completion, added dimension and perspective that built upon what Geoffrey was teaching, and really drove home the benefit of working in a group setting. Inspiration and emotional support was abundant...

Sharing the work of a fellow participant as it began to take shape...

Appreciating the works (surprise ones, especially, for the "hostess with the mostest") that were spontaneously created...

A powerful spirit totem figure by one of the women...

And another artist's endearing long-eared rabbit...

A wonderful whale incorporated into this gem of a box...

And this beautiful water bird was made using a (once) live bird this woman had in her own collection... nothing like true life as a model!

This transition to creative work directly followed 3 days spent at Mammoth Cave with my family and a large group of homeschooling families, so I was feeling very gratefully fortified by the abundant energy of nature, a great bridge to working with natural materials and the energy they hold. I began dragging out my multitude of art supplies, found objects (boxes and boxes of them), and started to take inventory. I set up various mock-ups of ideas with the bones and objects, several of them, animal in origin. And I realized I most needed to do some figurative work, perhaps a self-portrait. It has been over 20 years since I have done representational figurative 3D work, and I felt a bit nervous, but reminded myself that workshops are all about taking a plunge into what is not familiar… stretching ourselves in ways we might not have explored on our own. I felt relieved to have a tentative plan in mind, and packed up with these notions in my head and supplies in hand, not sure what to expect as I headed up to Lexington, KY.

Having a plan was one thing, and working with these materials was something else. I had a bit of a learning curve with the tools, which gave me several laughs at myself (ie. attempting to saw off the taxidermy carving block with the factory-installed blade on backwards, and wondering why in the world I was having such a difficult time making cuts… and then there was the time I was holding my wood-into-bone joint up in the air while drilling into it, trying to hold it steady, and Geoffrey coming over with a slight twinkle of amusement in his eye, gently taking it from me and placing it on the table, bracing it before putting the drill tip back in position-- allowing me to keep my dignity, but still, I had to laugh out loud at my unsafe and less-than-effective attempt). The weather on day one was not so conducive to the carving of the foam (92 degrees, 100 percent humidity), and we were all covered with fine dust and larger chunks of the foam, that stuck to our bodies head to toe like glue… it was if we were tarred and feathered with our own materials.

Smiling in this image, Geoffrey was being a good sport as he acclimated to our sweating-buckets-weather, and the sawdust was quite uncomfortable!

Small price to pay for the fun that followed as we began figuring out how to assemble our pieces. We all had tremendous trials, tribulation, and eureka moments as we embarked on the problem-solving needed to make the sculptures come together in sound and coherent ways, and felt little victories for each other when different parts were accomplished. One thing I enjoyed very much was helping each other brainstorm ideas for composition, use of materials, and construction ideas. Again, it expanded what we were already learning from Geoffrey, and tested our application skills with each other. Way more fun than a test.

Hands-on demo of newly sculpted and wrapped head by Geoffrey...

... and how to attach tin and screws (which made my eyes water!)

... applying a nose with staples and pliers...

... and a completed head, wrapped in wire that was then rusted, with Trish's brushes as a lovely backdrop!

After much relief in sculpting out the head (and scaling it down for what seemed like forever) and wrapping it in canvas, I moved on to attaching it to the sacrum (?) bone that I had brought, and then attached cherry branches for arms, wired on the forearms and hands, and finally, attached the ribs for wings (imagine days passing here of furrowed brow and scrunched shoulders and neck, deep in concentration). I wanted to conjure up the energy of embracing openness, and to remind myself that this healing energy is available to us all, rejuvenating us and keeping us connected to the wider circle of life and possibility. Giving her a base that was solid and reminiscent of grounding to what I know to be good and true, it felt appropriate to use a motor part that was once an integral piece of a greater machine, movement inherent in its history. The detail work of wiring on the shells was pretty tedious, and I am thankful to the group for being patient with my continual verbal processing of how difficult that process was, and how glad I would be when that step was over. Such kindness and patience we offered each other as we struggled to push through the challenges!

The last day, I was thrilled to begin another sculpture, and made the form much simpler this time, choosing to focus on the adornment methodology this time. I carved out an abstract dove-like form, which morphed into a raven-like bird as I started wrapping it in the bike inner tubes. I cut out individual feathers, and began attaching those, which took 3 more long days to complete when I returned home. How I missed the encouragement and support of the group as I worked! But I found the slow and patient work of applying each feather with each carpet tack soothing (minus the joint discomfort), and a bit like sewing… one thoughtful stitch at a time. I reflected on how the making of art is deliberate and slow much of the time, and like life, comes together into a coherent whole.

"Watchful One", (6 x 10 x 6 inches), 2017

Detail of snail shell and raccoon vertebrae beak... somehow seemed appropriate for this bird and its vigilant guardian-like energy.

Despite missing everyone, each morning since attending the workshop I have woken up with a leap of excitement to get to my art table and get cracking! I feel so rejuvenated, energized, and full of new ideas that I want to explore. I carry with me the energy of being surrounded by such diverse and talented people, in an environment that was teaming with fresh-baked goods, delicious and healthy lunches, history-accentuated rooms filled with comforts and lovely art. Oh, and I almost forgot to mention the great fun we had in exploring the area, full of a wide spectrum of people and life on many planes of existence. We spent one evening visiting the prolific studio of one of my favorite local artists, Melissa Hal l, getting a sneak preview of her upcoming exhibit, and behind the scenes sharing of both her 2D and 3D photography and encaustic work... a very moving experience, and incredibly powerful work-- an added highlight of the week. Early mornings began with walks on the train tracks, scavenging for bits of brokenness to use in our work, and we also scoured multiple thrift shops and junk shops, searching out curious treasures to be incorporated into works to come.

My favorite find on the railroad tracks!

We fortified ourselves with a wide variety of dinners out in the area, and found much fun in a bit of respite and comradery at the end of long days (although could not resist heading back into the workshop for the evenings and early mornings, eager to eek out every available bit of time to work!). I chuckled as I found myself back at home, referring to it as time spent at the “retreat”… that really sums it up better than “workshop”, as it was truly a place to go for peace and sanctuary while expanding our creative selves. I offer huge thanks to Goeffrey and Trish for opening their hearts, genius minds and hands, and home with us all, and to each artist for taking the risk to journey here and be part of this remarkable experience-- a remembrance that I will continue to hold dear. (If you have the chance, I highly recommend attending a workshop by Geoffrey, or Trish! You will enjoy it and learn from the immersion, guaranteed!).

Part of the gang at our last meal... bummed we were not able to get a whole group shot!

Bones / May 20, 2017 by Hayden Michelle

The other day I was greeted by a knock on the door, with an invitation by my neighbor to go “bone hunting” with her on her family property. This may sound odd, but for me, it gave my heart a leap, because I immediately felt known and loved! We have lived in the country for 9 years, and have been fortunate to be surrounded by amazing neighbors, who have slowly come to understand and even appreciate (with raised eyebrows and slight smiles) our often outside-the-box nature. I jumped at the chance, as did my 2 sons, and we piled into her ATV to go explore land that has been in her family for generations, and has only been recently made accessible. As this family raises cattle as part of their livelihood, we watch countless cows roam, and witness their new calves grazing the hillsides, often stopping to nurse from their mothers. Sharing our land for them to graze has brought experiences of closeness that we never would have had when living in the city, and with it, a deeper affection for the beauty and docile nature of these creatures.

So to embark on an adventure to seek out the bones of these once living beings, was a bit on the other end of the spectrum, but on the same continuum, none the less. We crossed the creek and drove to the top of one of the remote hills, and took in the view that surrounded the long-empty barns and lone chimney, a symbol of the hearth of the home that once stood there, housing their family in generations before. Trees had grown around the chimney on either side, providing support and framing it in a cathedral-like manner. I stood in quiet awe, imagining the family life that centered around this pillar of stone, the warmth of the fire that must have sustained the family many a night almost palpable.

{Imagine serene photos of the decrepit chimney surrounded by trees here, as well as some macro shots of the crumbling brick, intrepid plants that grew between the cracks, and images of the light that fell between the barn slats and warmed the dirt floor. littered with formations of bones.. Unfortunately, I accidentally deleted most of the pics of this day, and the rain has left that area inaccessible for the time being. So, imagination caps, please!}

When we began exploring the land surrounding the homestead, I could see patches of white dotting the landscape, nestled down in the grass, and discovered bone after bone (it was a bit like the best-ever Easter egg hunt, only these treasures had been there for years). There were concentrations of bones under certain trees, high up on this hill, and I wondered if the cows knew something about dying close to the skies. They seemed to take a bit of shelter from the trees and the decaying barn, and I was reminded of their innate ability to find protection and comfort where they could. I wondered if they died alone, or with others from their herd nearby them, and the starkness and reality of death as part of life was so apparent. As I picked up each discovered bone, I connected to the sacred energy that is part of the life we all share. I felt honored to be able to collect these bones in hopes of giving new life to them by bringing out the art inherent in their beautiful and interesting forms, hoping that if the animals had any awareness at all, that they would have given their permission for this taking.

I thought also, of the loss of my mother, my father, and those that I have known that have already left this world, and how their involvement in my life has left its imprint, full of lessons that will continue to teach me. I felt longing for their physical presence, and offered my gratitude to them for the gifts they gave. We were exploring this very dynamic over the last couple days as I helped lead a healing arts retreat… how the family patterns influence who we become, and how we use these experiences to continue to grow, heal, change, and raise our own families and define our own sense of self. I was connected with compassion for the difficulties that are part of each person’s life, as well as the blessings, and reminded how interconnected they are as I worked alongside others making mobiles to represent this interconnectedness, a tremendous privilege.

(excuse these rough photos... had to use what I had left on my memory card, and was reminded that it is the essence of our work that is most important!  Hopefully, the gist comes through all the same :)). — (excuse these rough photos... had to use what I had left on my memory card, and was reminded that it is the essence of our work that is most important! Hopefully, the gist comes through all the same :)).

It made me smile this morning as I was pondering this, realizing how much making the mobiles was like finding these bones that once roamed-- imagining how they will remain unmistakable in the foundation of their new iterations, yet bring a fresh beauty and depth to their surface. I realized that is a wish for us all… to keep strong the many parts of our core, while being open to new growth, evolution, and possibility that emerge as we continue through life. And, of course, the hope that our transformed beings are loved and appreciated by the other cows we cross on the path…

[Update: Since this highly successful expedition, I have had several knocks on my door, with farming neighbors standing in my doorway, new bones to add to my collection in hand, and proud (bemused?) smiles on their faces... and have even been stopped as I drove down our long hill, stopping the car to wait while they gather a few gems saved for me on the side of their barn. Tis a gift, indeed, to be open to what we have to offer each other!]

Hope and Healing / March 7, 2017 by Hayden Michelle

When asked to contribute work to, “CREATE: Expressions of Hope and Healing through the Arts”, I felt honored. An all-too-uncommon theme for an exhibit, healing art offers unique insight into growing through pain to reclaim our truest selves. While aware of the inherent vulnerability, I am grateful to have the opportunity to share what has often been a hidden part of my art and life.

"LOOKING WITHIN", 1987, (36 x 48 inches),  graphite, 1st self-portrait (not in current exhibit) — "LOOKING WITHIN", 1987, (36 x 48 inches), graphite, 1st self-portrait (not in current exhibit)

Art has been a life-saving path that I began using long ago, and continues to provide relief and hope like no other source. It connects me more deeply to myself, providing perspective and reflecting my own often unconscious process of change.

Like most, I feel ill at ease when sharing my wounds. Yet, I truly believe that art made from these protected places bridges the artist and the viewer, connecting our mutual experience of being human, and emphasizing the overlap we share, despite our differences. Art that engages the healing process may tap deep pain, eliciting despair, feeling confrontive. Yet, I know this connection is worth the price, and it is a privilege when I am part of the circuit that is made. It is my hope that restorative energy is felt by the viewer, and absorbed into those parts of themselves that need to be seen, that need to be heard.

"Tear Bottle", 2015, (11 x 22 x 24 inches) (with detail images, below)

The first piece is entitled, “Tear Bottle”, and was originally created for an exhibit at the end of 2015, “Another Way of Keeping a Diary”. I wrote about the journey of this sculpture here, and am grateful to show this piece again. After 3 reconstructions-- the first necessitated after a fire in our home, the second after severe damage sustained in cross-country shipment, I faced a third time, after damage in return transit . To say that I have been feeling resistance about this would be an understatement, as it is a complex sculpture, and a daunting task to repeatedly undertake.

Not exactly feeling the “third time is the charm” energy, I allowed myself to resist beginning the repair for one whole year before reopening the box and surveying the damage. It made me feel the multiple losses (inherent in the meaning of the piece, as well as in the damage to the sculpture) as I saw the extent of the destruction, and made me realize how resistance can protect us from strong feelings/tasks that are difficult to face. This putting aside allowed me some time to be with other parts of my life and creating that were not about brokenness, all the while knowing I would need to come back and repair yet again.

I realize now, that this acceptance fortified me. Rather than judging myself for feeling agitated, overwhelmed, angry, and sad, I let those feelings be, reflecting on them and re-examining them until they were ready to move on and I was ready to work—respite which actually gave me a fresh burst of energy. I was now able to view it as an opportunity to make the piece physically stronger, more detailed, and more integrated than before, and realized what a parallel this is to how we often experience repeat patterns that are painful in our lives.

It occurred to me that although I have many times in my life thought, “I can’t do this… not again… I don’t know where to begin… this is the pits… etc., etc.,” that each time, I mustered courage and at least a bit of determination to try again, and found in doing so, that I returned with new perspective and tools learned from experience, with increased awareness and learning about who I am and how I cope. Finding some insight in the midst of the challenge further energized the repair process. A wise friend of mine tenderly offered that perhaps part of the meaning might be that I continue to hold the ability to repair myself in ways still needing attention. Gulp. How we all need that reminder of our inner strength to keep meeting what comes our way, in big and small ways, and to grow beyond what we previously imagined…

“Tear Bottle” got its name when i discovered how tear bottles have been used throughout history as vessels to hold the sorrow of those in mourning, often placed in tombs to show respect for those who died. Creating this piece moved me to my core, opening to my deepest truth of the sexual violation I suffered. By accepting the depth of how this trauma has affected all parts of me, it enables me to feel and express my outrage and grief at that which lives in my bones still, and tragically, in the bones of countless others. As tears are often believed to hold healing properties, allowing my own to flow enables me to find release, and honors life energy that has been taken, as well as widens my view to acknowledge the new life which has been created in this same pelvis... the miracles of my children. Intentionally making this bovine pelvis a safe and reverent space helped me to widen my view to see that not just trauma, but joy and liberation, are within my body and spirit, emanating out when I feel connected to my center, surrendering to what is.

My second piece, “Reclaiming the Sacred”, was made during the first healing art workshop I co-led 5 years ago, and is a compilation of images originally created by many artists, curated from magazines and collaged together into a triptych that gives a glimpse into the ongoing process of healing my spirit. It is an arduous journey examining how my spirituality and trust in the Universe was deeply damaged by the betrayal, lack of safety, and loss of self the trauma left. I summon courage daily to face this loss, while holding gratitude for remaining connected to the Sacred that is ever-present.

"Reclaiming the Sacred", 2010, (60 x 32 x 12 inches), (detail images below, reworked with colored pigment and encaustic)

And my last piece in the show, “Emerging”, is a ceramic piece I made long ago, 1992. Created in early adulthood while beginning to confront the depths of fall-out that childhood sexual abuse left on my mind/body/spirit… my inner parts responded-- the fatigue of grief, pulling inward for self-protection while confronting inwardly and then outwardly telling the truth, and desire for healing and release from what had been held silent for so long. This piece is one of a series of five sculptures, all depicting different parts of reclaiming myself.

"Emerging", 1992, (5.5 x 9 x 6 inches), (detail images, below)

I am grateful for the gift of making art which so deeply and freely offers healing. I am aware of the privilege of having the safety which enables me to speak up about suffering and healing… not just my own, but what is experienced by every human being. I am indebted to those in my life who support and love me on this imperfect path. It is such a gift not to be alone. As I wrote on the end page of my compilation of healing art book made for WITNESS, my wish for you, as you view this art, is to “release anything which is deadening to your spirit”, an anonymous quote discovered scrawled onto a wall in college that has become a personal mantra. Certainly, we all have something that would benefit from release, and perhaps we can lighten the load by sharing it with each other…

"Release", 2010, photograph, mixed media, WITNESS Project

[“CREATE: Expressions of Hope and Healing through the Arts”, opens on March 17, 5-8 p.m., at ArtsPlace, 161 N. Mill Street, Lexington, KY, and runs through Saturday, March 25. The evening will include the exhibit, as well as healing art demonstrations, discussion of music as therapy, and a dance performance, portraying the power of movement. There will be a panel discussion the following morning, Saturday, March 18, from 10:30—12:30 p.m., to discuss further how we can all heal from accessing the power of art. I hope to see you there, even if I am shaking in my boots!}]

New Year, New Work! / February 17, 2017 by Hayden Michelle

The beginning of this year has brought much fullness and intensity, on so many levels. As our country and world have been adjusting to the new transition of power, I, like many, have felt overwhelmed by the enormity of issues at hand. One way I have been channeling my feelings has been through my art, always a safe outlet and source of healing. It has been good to balance the outward energy of confronting change with being alone, working at my own pace, needing only to listen to the rhythm of my hands and heart.

It is important for all of us to feel some sense of control over our lives, and although making art may seem like a small bit of choice, it is vital for me. Perhaps because there is so much oppression and pain in the world, do I need to create things that bring me peace and comfort, and at times, express my own challenges of this journey.

All of these pieces were started months ago, in many different stages. I seem to keep returning to creatures oceanic in nature, and wonder if that is not because of the expansiveness and mystery that the sea offers... offering some respite, escape, and connection to a greater whole.

I am really enjoying playing with color, and making things more wild than they might even be in real life (at least around the hills where we live). That certainly is a very freeing part of making art! I am teaching kids sculpture at our homeschooling co-op again this semester, and keep telling them the same thing-- there is no way to be wrong in creating... all of it is part of the whole of who we are. It is such permission and freedom to just allow the expression of what wants to come out. My hope is that everyone can allow themselves this opportunity in as many ways as they can.

Art glass, resplendent with imaginable form, was altered and printed on kozo, layered with fused wax, cut into intricate separate forms, rebuilt into one piece, adorned with mulberry paper and inclusion of hand-made paper clay, its protrusions coated in wax, all hand-colored in powdered pigment. This creature appears able to propel itself across the ocean floor, perhaps never seen by human eyes, yet divine because it exists, leaving me pondering what serves to propel us forward in our lives.

It has been very exciting to delve into incorporating paper clay into my encaustic work, something I have been slowly experimenting with in the last year. Making it by hand was an experience in and of itself, and photos that documented the terribly messy and long process would have provided some comic relief. But alas, I will stay focused here, and share some of the end result :). I can say that my fingers were exceedingly happy to plunge into wet clay again, as it has been a long-time favorite material, as primal as they come...

This other piece was a furthering in exploration, as I returned to printing onto textile rather than paper. It has a very solid feel, and more work will be made this way. I am sharing accompanying artist statements with the sculptures, as they speak succinctly for the pieces...

"Otherworldly", 2017, (4.25 x 12. 25 x 4 inches)

Otherworldly sprung up from a photo of hand-made art glass, its vibrant color and energy awaiting interpretation. The altered pattern was printed on fabric, layered with fused wax, cut into new shape, sculpted, hand-sewn, embedded with wire tentacles, and hand-colored with powdered mineral pigment. The newly embodied creature could have emerged from the sea, or perhaps the depths of my unconscious, reminding me of the beauty that resides both within and around me when I truly look.

The last 4 pieces were done in a series for a submission, and I enjoyed the challenge of needing to contain my work to 12 x 12 cradled panels. I have previously incorporated my sculptural work onto panels, but this was more fully expressed. Like the ocean, there is much symbolism in butterflies and moths, and I have collected found wings for some time. Intentionally bringing them together brought some comfort, and made me realize what a past year of change this has been for me and my family...

"Vulnerable", 2017, (12.25 x 12 x 4.25 inches)

A small Io Moth wing discovered on the road under a street lamp grew much larger than life, as it was printed on kozo paper, layered with encaustic medium, hand-carved over the surface, sculpted, and wired onto a layered beeswax cradled panel, where organic swirls depicting movement were carved. Painted with oils to accentuate the habitat of the moth, I was struck by the fact that this wing was all that remained by morning, reminded of our vulnerability, and of the natural cycle of life.

"Fragile", 2017, (12 x 12 x 4.25 inches)

When discovering bits of brokenness, I pause in silence, marveling at the beauty that remains. Left blowing in the early morning breeze on the grass, coming upon this Luna Moth fragment took my breath away. Photographed and printed onto kozo paper, layered with fused wax, hand-carved over its entirety, embellished by powdered pigment, it was wired onto an oil-painted waxed panel full of organic swirls of energy. This Luna remnant made me connect with the powerful sacred energy of night.

"Migration, Interrupted", 2017, (12 x 12.25 x 5 inches)

A monarch on the grill of a car-- clearly struck during its journey-- brought awareness of how our lives can be altered… either in a single moment, or by long-held process/systems. Each day there is desperate need to create goodness and gratitude amid the chaos and suffering in our world. “Migration, Interrupted” evolved by merging photo with kozo, layering with fused wax, hand-carving and sculpting, coloring with pigment, and wiring onto depths of carved beeswax waiting like the midnight sky.

"Reveal", 2017, (12 x 12.5 x 4.25 inches)

A Blue Swallowtail feasting in our blackberry garden brought life to this sculpture. Printed on textile, layered with fused wax, hand-carved, sculpted into form, and colored with powdered pigment, it was wired onto a cradled panel layered with intricately carved organic shapes in beeswax and painted with oils, providing a resting place for this memorialized bit of nature’s beauty. It illuminates the revelation of inner goodness that radiates out when provided with the sustenance we need.

Thank you for taking the time to see what I have been up to in my studio these past months... it feels good to see evidence that my work continues to evolve just by showing up at my table every day, and gives me hope for change in a more universal sense. I continue to be moved to act in solidarity with others who are working for change in the many unique individual and collective ways that are happening.

In Flawed Abundance / January 7, 2017 by Hayden Michelle

The International Encaustic Artists group recently put out a call for entry into their spring exhibition, entitled, “In Flawed Abundance”. The title was inspired by this quote by poet and philosopher, Mark Nepo.

Stripped of causes and plans and things to strive for,

I have discovered everything I could need or ask for

is right here, in flawed abundance.

from “Accepting This” by Mark Nepo

These words struck a deep chord in me, having done much contemplating on my own life’s path and that of my mother and many loved ones who have gone on before me. I have been especially thoughtful about my maternal grandmother, Ida Fuss Klee. My mother was very close to her, and I feel like I can now better understand the deep ache that remained with my mother as she missed her own. As I have reflected about my grandmother, I have deeply wondered about her life as an artist. She grew up a child of German immigrants and modest means, in a family rich with artistic abilities and full of knowledge about how to fully live. She took correspondence art courses through Chicago. She was fundamentally a self-taught artist, and had abundant talent in drawing and painting, (as well as in daily living skills like resourcefulness, inventiveness, and ingenuity, per my mama, and much like my mama!).

In the 1920’s, she rented an art studio in downtown Indianapolis—a daring thing to do as a female artist in that era. She began working professionally as an illustrator, gained recognition for her talent and hard work, and was offered full-time employment in NYC. However, she did not feel that this path was an option that she could accept, and chose to stay in Indianapolis and marry and raise a family. I can only imagine the complexity of needing to make a choice like that, and feel incredible gratitude for being able to work as an artist while raising my family, and to have the emotional and societal support to do so.

"Her Beauty Still Shone" (Ida Fuss Klee, 1904-1998), (detail)

This bit of history was recently shared with me, and it helped me to get perhaps a glimpse of understanding about my grandmother’s very limited expression of art after starting her family life. I often tried to engage her in discussion about her artwork, what inspired her, how it was to be a female artist in a male-dominated field… being met with few words and eyes that looked away. How I wish I would have known more, to have been able to talk more freely and to listen to her story, and certainly to have been able to ask to make art alongside her…

(These are photographs of her china, broken fragments I have saved for years for the right project to come along!)

So the first piece I made for this series of “In Flawed Abundance” was in homage to my grandmother, to honor her life force, and how she raised herself up out of poverty with fierce determination to live and create. It is in reverence to her tremendous hard work and talent, and the parts of her that did not feel valued, nor had the chance to be appreciated more fully by the world. It is symbolic of how these breaks in her spirit did not diminish her beauty or her artistic contributions, and to reinforce the fact that her art did, in fact, live on… both through my mother and her brothers’ artistic talents, and the passing down of this gene to her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Although I got to know only a small part of her when she was living, I feel her spirit very much alive now in my heart and hands…

"Her Beauty Still Shone" (Ida Fuss Klee, 1904-1998), 2016,(18 x 24 x 5 inches), (kozo paper, photograph, beeswax, carved and sculpted, hand-colored with powdered pigment and resting on handmade plate rail)

In these past many months, I have been feeling the inevitable void related to the loss of my mother. Nepo’s words remind me that acceptance of the feelings of loss enables me to return to the fullness of that which she left with me-- her love, nurturing, humor, and artistic self, as well as the things she taught me in dealing with the hardship and pain that is part of life. My mama remained a compassionate and strong woman throughout her challenges, and showed much determination and stamina. She was a queen role model of embracing flawed abundance (and I mean that in the most respectful way… she could see the positive in every single thing she encountered, and taught deep mindfulness for abiding gratitude by this example). Thankfully, these gifts remain with me as I continue to grieve her absence…

"Fragments of Home" (Mama, 1933-2016), 2016, detail

The second piece I submitted for review is of my mother’s Blue Willow dishes, which held the food she so lovingly and dedicatedly prepared for her large family of eight children and spouse (always pointing out how beautiful the vegetables and fruit looked against the cobalt blue… an observation which I find myself often pointing out repeatedly with my own children as we use a few of these plates, still). In addition to the beauty of the pattern and color, there is the obvious brokenness that comes in families as difficult things are experienced. It has taken me a long time to share the pieces, and to see the beauty and healing that bringing them out into the light can bring. This piece is in homage to the integrity of my mother, and to the amazing artist that she was, as well as to her lifetime of sharing this gift with those she loved. She exemplified creating for the sheer joy of it. And mostly, my mother taught me to see…

"Fragments of Home" (Mama, 1933-2016), 2016, (18 x 24 x 5 inches), (kozo paper, photograph, beeswax, carved and sculpted, hand-colored with powdered pigment,  and resting on plate rail) — "Fragments of Home" (Mama, 1933-2016), 2016, (18 x 24 x 5 inches), (kozo paper, photograph, beeswax, carved and sculpted, hand-colored with powdered pigment, and resting on plate rail)

Nepo’s words also speak directly to me as I continue to dedicate the time and work needed to express myself as an artist while balancing the task of raising and homeschooling of my children. It has been quite a process for me to give myself permission to make art a priority, not guilting myself for nolonger actively working as a social worker. I continue to explore what it means for me to do my part in contributing to the social good of the world, a question which is there for all of us. And I have ever so slowly come to accept that I have things to say and to express through my art, as well as to accept that the amount of time I have available to make art may not be the same as if I had started younger, or in that field rather than social work. As I age, I am aware that each part of my path has its importance and lesson, and is all part of the bigger whole. There are a multitude of gratitudes every day, no matter what that day happens to bring.

"Discovering Wholeness" (Myself, 1968--), 2017, (detail, above and below)

This compilation of my own shards, new and old, reflects piecing together the many fragments of my life... tenderly exploring the sharp edges, while appreciating the depth of color, shape, glaze and history that each remnant contains... realizing that a deeper whole has emerged from this experience and the integration into my being, creating space as I continue on my path.

"Discovering Wholeness" (Myself, 1968--), 2017, (18 x 24 x 5 inches), (kozo paper, photograph, beeswax, hand-carved and sculpted, colored with powdered pigment, and resting on plate rail)

Whether or not these pieces get juried into the exhibition, I am deeply grateful for the introspection and growth that has transpired as a result of these inspiring words by Mark Nepo. The timing could not have been better, and I feel more at peace having done both the emotional and physical work involved in the making of these sculptures. Tis a gift to be able to see this thread that runs through the fabric of our lives, and the interconnectedness of us all. May we all greet ourselves and each other with more tenderness for our wholeness.

It's the Little Things / December 12, 2016 by Hayden Michelle

In the last couple of months, I have been exploring working both larger and smaller, and it has been refreshing to go into the tiny. Ever since I can remember, I was fascinated with all things small, and would make miniature goods for the creatures I imagined would need them... acorn lid bowls, rugs out of leaves, toothpaste caps for cups, berries for pretend apples. I loved "The Littles" on Captain Kangaroo, and waited with bated breath for the times they would be revealed from behind the books on Captain Kangaroo's shelf.

I realize that I am still fascinated by tiny things, often channeled and expressed through my love of macro photography, where whole worlds are opened up through pattern, color, shape, and symbolism. So it is not surprising that I would explore diving into a smaller realm with encaustic. This time, no photo is the foundation, just the wax that is molded with my fingers and perhaps adorned with droplets of melted wax. I am enjoying the sense of light that is transmitted through the wax, and think they appear as a bit ghostly in their luminescence.

"Spring Forth", 2016, (5 x 6 x 4.5 inches)

"Out of the Blue", 2016, (3 x 6 x 2.5 inches)

I still wonder if some small being might appreciate them in their dwelling, and can imagine a forest abode made up of these tiny installations. Sometimes I wish I could be small enough to have them in my world. I think it is nice that we can escape to different landscapes when the outer world feels too much and we need some reprieve. Somehow it seems more manageable, and more protected. Certainly, being in the process of creating and going into the sculptures brings positive energy, and that makes me smile. It is in a spirit of playfulness and light-heartedness that I share them here with you. I hope they bring a sense of joy to you, as well…

CRAFT FORMS 2016 / December 6, 2016 by Hayden Michelle

As the weekend comes to a close, and we are on the road to return home, I am much more full than when we left (in more ways than one!). We arrived in Philadelphia a couple of days early to take in some of the city life and museums before moving on to the Craft Forms festivities. As we walked downtown in Philadelphia, we observed and interacted with many faces, from all walks of life, from all parts of the world. We talked with our children about what a fine line it is that exists between us all, how we are all interconnected, and of how each and every person we encountered was full of stories, family histories, and lifetimes of experience, as well as unknown gifts, talents, and treasures. It is sobering to be made so keenly aware of one’s privilege and basic good luck in life, and left us all contemplating how best to make a difference in the suffering of this world.

Amazing murals greeted us on the highway into the city...

This awareness of good fortune was so prevalent throughout the rest of the weekend, which was quite a broadening experience. We arrived in Wayne, PA, for the opening gala event for Craft Forms 2016 on Friday evening, to a warmly and festively lit contemporary art center that beckoned all inside. We were greeted by the jubilant and artistic band playing a wide variety of instruments, and musicians that stepped out and engaged with us many times over the course of the night.

There was delicious food that was served, and much excitement and anticipation in the air. I was thrilled to meet Nancy Campbell, Executive Director of the Wayne Art Center, Karen Louise Fay, Director of Exhibitions and Events, and the juror for the show, Stefano Catalani, Executive Director of Gage Academy of Art in Seattle, WA, all of whom worked very hard to organize, select, and present this exceptional exhibition in its 22nd year.

Stefano Catalani, Juror, holding the catalog for the show... wonderful surprise to see that my piece was on the cover!

Upon entering the exhibit hall, we were stunned with the depth and variety of the work, and the incredible amount of talent, workmanship, and quality seen in each and every piece of art. There was artwork that ranged in size from being held in the palm of your hand, to textiles that covered the wall, to furniture that had loomed large on the floor... 101 works from around the world.

Teresa Faris (WI), Collaboration with a Bird IV, #4, and Collaboration with a Bird V, #4 — Teresa Faris (WI), *Collaboration with a Bird IV, #4*, and *Collaboration with a Bird V, #4*

Gizella K. Warburton (England), Morphus II — Gizella K. Warburton (England), *Morphus II*

Ben T. Jordan (MT), The Cowboy and His Cow — Ben T. Jordan (MT), *The Cowboy and His Cow*

Cheryl Wilson Smith (Canada), Balance? — Cheryl Wilson Smith (Canada), *Balance?*

Seth Rolland (WA), Starfish Hanging Lamp — Seth Rolland (WA), *Starfish Hanging Lamp*

Diane Siebels (VA), Black/White Landscape (macro) — Diane Siebels (VA), *Black/White Landscape* (macro)

Cheryl Zamulinsky (MA), Cavity — Cheryl Zamulinsky (MA), *Cavity*

Dinah Sargeant (CA), Eyes in the Back of My Head — Dinah Sargeant (CA), *Eyes in the Back of My Head*

Elizabeth F. Keller (SC), Heartwood Tea #1 with Cups — Elizabeth F. Keller (SC), *Heartwood Tea #1 with Cups*

Holly Fischer (NC), Kiss — Holly Fischer (NC), *Kiss*

We slowly made our way around the exhibit, meeting other artists and supporters of the arts. It was so exciting to hear the backgrounds of others, and how they came to be involved in this exhibit. There were audible "oohs" and "aahs" as people took in the scope of the exhibit, which was great fun to hear and see.

Artist Judith Rosenthal (NJ), Poppy, with artist William R. Sulit (PA) — Artist Judith Rosenthal (NJ), *Poppy,* with artist William R. Sulit (PA)

Jill Baker Gower (NJ), Flsehgem #3 (wall), and John D. Utgaard (KY), Reaction (pedestal) — Jill Baker Gower (NJ), *Flsehgem #3* (wall), and John D. Utgaard (KY), *Reaction* (pedestal)

Peetah Tinay (WA), Ring Border Basket with Lattice in Black and Brown — Peetah Tinay (WA), *Ring Border Basket with Lattice in Black and Brown*

Catherine Winkler Rayroud (TX), Art for Peace, (21 symbols of peace within the composition, hand-cut with nail scissors from a single sheet of paper) — Catherine Winkler Rayroud (TX), *Art for Peace, (21 symbols of peace within the composition, hand-cut with nail scissors from a single sheet of paper)*

I thoroughly enjoyed getting to hear of the many layers of process involved in the work of other artists, and the history of making that spanned years of their lives before getting there. My respect for their work deepened as I listened to their stories, and I was in awe of the variety of techniques represented by the work.

Jess Jones (GA), Topoquilt: Atlanta Prison Farm — Jess Jones (GA), *Topoquilt: Atlanta Prison Farm*

Holland Houdek (IA), Extended Articular Component (Knee Replacement), and Rea Rossi (PA), Celia (ear cuff) — Holland Houdek (IA), *Extended Articular Component (Knee Replacement)*, and Rea Rossi (PA), Celia (ear cuff)

Elaine F. Kinnaird (AL), Touch — Elaine F. Kinnaird (AL), *Touch*

Kate Cusack (NY), Lace- Rust- Red/Gold — Kate Cusack (NY), *Lace- Rust- Red/Gold*

David Rozek (PA), Morphic End Tables — David Rozek (PA), *Morphic End Tables*

Kari Lonning (CT), Paint Box Colors — Kari Lonning (CT), *Paint Box Colors*

Jennifer S. Martin (PA), The White Series — Jennifer S. Martin (PA), *The White Series*

Dylan Martinez (IN), Untitled — Dylan Martinez (IN), *Untitled*

Daniel J. Widolff (PA), Runner — Daniel J. Widolff (PA), *Runner*

Mary Zicafoose (NE), Mountain for the Buddha: Wine — Mary Zicafoose (NE), *Mountain for the Buddha: Wine*

Xin Chen (IA), Squares of Circles? (macro) — Xin Chen (IA), *Squares of Circles?* (macro)

Carol V. Hall with Michael Kehs and Dan Greer (PA), Dragon Vessel: When Fire Dries a Tear, and Stephen S. Robison with Kathleen Guess (WA), Pasta Box (behind vessel) — Carol V. Hall with Michael Kehs and Dan Greer (PA), *Dragon Vessel: When Fire Dries a Tear,* and Stephen S. Robison with Kathleen Guess (WA), *Pasta Box (behind vessel)*

Ellen Dickinson (NY), Undulation — Ellen Dickinson (NY), *Undulation*

Cameron Anne Mason (WA), Quinalt — Cameron Anne Mason (WA), *Quinalt*

Catherine Winkler Rayroud (TX),  (macro) — Catherine Winkler Rayroud (TX), (macro)

Rachel E. Meginnes (NC), Floral Backing — Rachel E. Meginnes (NC), *Floral Backing*

Denise L. Roberts (WV), Mitote #8 — Denise L. Roberts (WV), *Mitote #8*

Jeffrey L. Dever (MD), Jardin Nouveau — Jeffrey L. Dever (MD), *Jardin Nouveau*

Lisa Klakulak (NC), Capped Accumulation — Lisa Klakulak (NC), *Capped Accumulation*

William R. Sulit (PA), Untitled — William R. Sulit (PA), *Untitled*

Raymond Gonazlez (KY), Click — Raymond Gonazlez (KY), *Click*

I felt appreciation for the determination in getting there, and pondered how artists were represented from all corners of the world, yet united by their love of creating. We left that night feeling enlightened by the experience, and so fortunate to be able to be part of the experience.

Bounkhong Signavong (NJ), Reves Indigo — Bounkhong Signavong (NJ), *Reves Indigo*

Bounkgohn Signavong's hand-woven jacket (above), detail (shared that it took ten years to weave and construct!)

Group photo of the artists who could attend, as well as juror, Stefano Catalani... Congratulations and best wishes to all those artists who were not able to be included in this photograph...

Artists Diane Siebels, Michelle Hayden, and  William R. Sulit (taken by my son :) — Artists Diane Siebels, Michelle Hayden, and William R. Sulit (taken by my son :)

Saturday I returned for the Juror’s talk by Stefano Catalani, followed by the artist presentations about their individual pieces. I was on the edge of my seat (as I stood), ears open wide, taking in their words and learning more about what went into their work. I was able to speak about mine, as well, and was grateful for the opportunity to share in such a receptive group, which filled the entire exhibit hall.

Leslie L. Pontz (PA), presenting on her piece, Natural Drape (woven piece, not pictured... was to her left) — Leslie L. Pontz (PA), presenting on her piece, *Natural Drape (woven piece, not pictured... was to her left)*

David L. Knopp (MD), presenting on his pieces, Body and Soul and Tides — David L. Knopp (MD), presenting on his pieces, *Body and Soul* and *Tides*

Stefano engaging with Al Canner (CO), Mesa County (A Cubist's View), (left wall)

Al Canner explaining his process of creating...

John Conver Lutz (PA), Turning Point Hall Table — John Conver Lutz (PA), *Turning Point Hall Table*

Stefano sharing in presentation with Peetah Tina (WA), Ring Border Basket with Lattice in Black and Brown — Stefano sharing in presentation with Peetah Tina (WA), *Ring Border Basket with Lattice in Black and Brown*

Stefano in review with Rea Rossi (PA), Reverberate, (left), necklace — Stefano in review with Rea Rossi (PA), *Reverberate,* (left), necklace

Relief after presenting my piece :), and Stephen L. Maurer (MA), Ogee Bone Bowl (behind my sculpture) — Relief after presenting my piece :), and Stephen L. Maurer (MA), *Ogee Bone Bowl* (behind my sculpture)

After this deepened understanding, I was able to attend the juror’s talk by Curator and Program Director of Craft and Material Studies at the University of the Arts, Mi-Kyoung Lee, and the artist panel for the accompanying textile and fiber exhibit, Making Marks, in the other exhibit hall. It was wonderful to be able to hear more extensive sharing by both the juror and the artists, as it was a much smaller, yet no less profound, exhibit.

Carla Fisher (PA), Renewal — Carla Fisher (PA), *Renewal*

Piper Shepard (MD), Radical 1-3 (macro) — Piper Shepard (MD), *Radical 1-3 (macro)*

Cynthia D. Friedman (PA), Lonely Traveler — Cynthia D. Friedman (PA), *Lonely Traveler*

Susie Brandt (MD), Snow Fence (Mi-Kyoung Lee, left) — Susie Brandt (MD), *Snow Fence (Mi-Kyoung Lee, left)*

Heather Ujiie (PA), Die Vier Hexen — Heather Ujiie (PA), *Die Vier Hexen*

Dot Vile (PA), Blanket from Mom — Dot Vile (PA), *Blanket from Mom*

Kristen Miller (OR), Smoke, Shared Paths, Ghost City (pieces on left and right sides of arch) — Kristen Miller (OR), *Smoke, Shared Paths, Ghost City (pieces on left and right sides of arch)*

Jeanne Jaffe (PA), TS Eliot Four Quartets East Coker (front hanging installation piece) — Jeanne Jaffe (PA), *TS Eliot Four Quartets East Coker (front hanging installation piece)*

Danielle Bodine (WA), Red Dot Galaxy — Danielle Bodine (WA), *Red Dot Galaxy*

Mi-Kyoung Lee (PA), Yellow Forest 2 (macro)

I was so happy to make connections with these artists, as well, and felt such joy at being in the company of others who perhaps look at life from a different perspective and choose to put it into form through their art. I would have loved to have met all of the artists, and to have been able to have shown each person's art, but there were over 120 pieces between both exhibits. I hope the caliber of the work and the diversity of artists is at least represented here...

Hooray for new friendships! (Peetah Tina and me)

And to complete the weekend, we attended a lovely brunch at the home of Franz Rabauer, Craft Forms 2016 Chair, and his partner and benefactor and patron of Wayne Art Center, Brian Daggett. They opened their spacious home with overflowing generosity and hospitality, and shared not only scrumptious food, but the most amazing tour of their collection of contemporary fine craft, covering the entire space of their beautiful home and grounds. It was much like being in a fine museum, only having personal tour guides that knew much about each artist, felt bonded with the art, and had stories of how they each were acquired. They engaged in much discussion with our children, which was so positive for them, as well as us. It was fascinating, and in combination with meeting those who attended, who were very deeply involved in the arts world on a global scale, I was a bit beyond words. My family took it in as a broadening experience, and enjoyed the art immensely. Artists from all over the world comprised their collections, and it was such a privilege to see them nestled into their contemporary home and nature-filled grounds.

At the end of a long and exciting evening...

We left feeling quite happy to have been part of this experience, and beyond grateful for being included in Craft Forms 2016 for this year. I will return home with much to think about, and my wheels are already turning about work that will come to be. My deepest gratitude for my family, and for all who were encouraging and supportive in making this all possible.

Building a New Relationship / November 29, 2016 by Hayden Michelle

It seems fitting that in this week following reflections on gratitude, that I am able to share an exciting new relationship with Malton Art Gallery in Cincinnati, Ohio. This month I had the opportunity to bring my work to Gallery Owner, Syliva Rombis, and Gallery Director, Brenda Campbell, for review, and was warmly welcomed into their gallery.

"Malton Art Gallery has been in business since 1974, and is renowned for high quality contemporary fine art and sculpture, representing over 100 local, regional, national and international artists in a beautiful, contemporary, light-filled gallery, covering three floors and an outside sculpture garden.

Sylvia Rombis specializes in site specific custom commissioned art installations, both in 2D and 3D concepts. Her goal is connecting the client to the art, through the artist… to create compelling art for her client’s needs.

I experienced Sylvia and Brenda’s philosophy firsthand as they examined different pieces of my work. They demonstrated a deep understanding of their clients’ preferences and visions... an understanding that grows only from close relationships with their clientele.

I am thrilled to have both my photography and encaustic sculpture represented by the Malton Art Gallery, and look forward to sharing my art in this new venue. Below are images of new sculptural work to be hung as wall installations, a recent direction which I am delighted to explore...

"Sunrise", 2016, (32 x 38 x 4 in), (and details, below...) — "**Sunrise**", 2016, (32 x 38 x 4 in), (and details, below...)

"Moonrise", 2016, (32 x 36 x 3 in), (and details, below...) — "**Moonrise**", 2016, (32 x 36 x 3 in), (and details, below...)

I am so excited to see where this new leg of the journey leads, and am thankful for the relationship with Brenda and Sylvia of the Malton Art Gallery. If you are up in Cincinnati, stop by this gallery and see the unique contemporary art for which they are known!

Counting Down... / November 21, 2016 by Hayden Michelle

There was an audible sigh of relief after shipping off my sculpture chosen for inclusion in Craft Forms 2016, as well as 5 other pieces that will be available in the Gallery Shop at the Wayne Art Center in Pennsylvania. Here is a description from Wayne Art Center’s website that highlights the energy and scope of this exciting exhibit:

CRAFT FORMS 2016

(A beautiful sculpture made by one of the 89 artists selected for this exhibit... I will share this artist's name after I discover the identity at the event!)

Craft Forms 2016, the International Juried Exhibition of Contemporary Crafts, will be on display at the Wayne Art Center from Decemeber 3, 2016- January 28, 2017

One of the most highly esteemed museum-quality craft exhibitions in the United States, Craft Forms consistently draws upward of 5,000 visitors during its two month exhibition. More than 250 guests, including art collectors, supporters of the Wayne Art Center, and artists, annually celebrate Craft Forms and its companion show at the Opening Gala. The exhibitions and special events continue to attract local, regional, nation and international visitors throughout the duration of the events.

This eagerly anticipated exhibition, celebrating its 22nd year, is dedicated to enhancing the public's awareness of fine contemporary craft while providing a venue for established and emerging artists to share their creative endeavors. Craft Forms is internationally recognized as one of the premiere contemporary craft exhibitions. The finest works of ceramics, wood, fiber, metal, glass, mixed medium and 3D printing are featured, supporting the Center's mission of expanding the public's awareness of fine contemporary crafts, and significantly benefiting all educational and outreach programs for children and adults.

2016 Juror: Stefano Catalani, Executive Director of the Gage Academy of Art and former Director of Art, Craft & Design at Bellevue Arts Museum

I feel deeply honored to be part of this exhibit, especially as the piece selected, “Ascension from the Ocean Floor”, was completed following the loss of my mother this summer, and embodied much of the energy of her illness and change over the years, as well as her final process of leaving this life. I wanted to capture the beauty that was inherent in her very bones, and which transformed outwardly as she lived her full years, impacted others through her love, and left this world a different place from having been here. I am grateful that her spirit continues to live on in all of her children and grandchildren, as well as her extended family and friends. This piece is a visual reminder of the chance we all get to transform both our own lives and those we touch on our journey.

"Ascension from the Ocean Floor", (4 x 16 x 5.5 in), 2016

These other sculptures were happy to be along for the ride, and to have a chance to be viewed in an audience of those who gravitate toward contemporary art. I appreciate the opportunity to share some of my other work in that environment, and am grateful to the Wayne Art Center for inviting the artists this additional privilege. I am incredibly excited to get to take in the work of so many new artists, and to soak up their perspectives, energy, and aesthetic. Congratulations to all the artists who entered for consideration, as well as the ones who were selected. I am sure much blood, sweat, and tears went into every piece submitted...

"In with the Tide", 2015, (and details below...)

"Flourish", 2016, (and details, below...)

"Inner Resources", (13 x 18 x 8.5 in), 2016, (and details, below...)

I am grateful that my family gets to come with me to experience this together, and am deeply aware of how much their support and love carries me in my work. We are all so looking forward to this adventure, and to being part of this eclectic art experience in a different environment. It will be great fun to come back and share a bit of what we learned and enjoyed. I so appreciate the support of all those who encourage, deepen, contribute to, and sustain the arts. Without the positive energy of each other’s creativity on all levels, these events would not be possible. Thank you especially to Wayne Art Center for promoting the contemporary arts and for hosting this event!

Art Tour 2016 / November 8, 2016 by Hayden Michelle

Stunning views of sunrise en route to Kathleen's, mystified by the ghostly fog...

This past weekend I had the privilege of being invited to be a guest artist at the home and studio of Kathleen O’Brien, as part of Art Tour 2016. We were first stop on the tour which included 8 other artists who opened up the spaces in which they live and create their art.

Kathleen and her spouse, Greg Orth, have the gift of warmly welcoming those into the house and studio which they designed and built, nestled into the landscape which feels like an extension of the beauty within their walls. We gathered on the porch which completely encompasses their house, offering views in all four directions, soaking up the dappled sunlight that came in through the gorgeous wall of blue morning glories, magically still blooming on these cold November mornings. A hammock awaited tired feet in the trees beyond the house, and visitors ambled along their beautiful property, soaking up these intentionally and lovingly curated grounds.

The road leading to Sunwise Farm and Sanctuary, Kathleen and Greg's home and studio...

The days unfolded with many coming out to see the stunning watercolors, mixed media and jewelry that Kathleen has so abundantly created, alongside my encaustic sculptural work and photography. We both really enjoyed the symbiotic energy that our pieces seemed to emit while sharing the same space, complimenting each other in color, connection to nature, and positive energy.

Also showcased were antique items Greg has collected, and some of his writing. Sherman Fracher of Abiding Grace Farm was there as a guest, as well, with her artisan pickles. We thoroughly enjoyed sampling them (too many times!) throughout the weekend, and loved sitting around the table with others who tasted these fine pickles and many of the treats that were provided.

Sherman feeling joy in the crisp morning air...

It was so enlivening to engage with those who came out to share in the day, discussing the process of how I work, what my inspiration is, and inquiring as to what moved them to create in their own unique ways. I enjoyed hearing about the many facets of creativity expressed by the visitors… painters, writers, illustrators, actors, musicians, photographers, cooks, seamstresses, wood carvers, and those who immerse themselve in nature as source of replenishment, awe, and quiet. It is in interactions like these that common ground is felt, and which deepens the drive to keep creating and keep sharing with others. I was left with much gratitude for the opportunity and gift of making art, and especially for being invited to share it out on Kathleen and Greg’s sacred grounds.

Shadows of the morning glories danced across the porch planks...

Front view of Kathleen and Greg's land, with fountain and hand-made bread oven...

Lovely way to end the day... with a good hug with Kathleen and a hearty laugh...

And gratitude to be backoned back home to my neck of the woods with a soft sunset to greet me...

Lost in the Details / October 20, 2016 by Hayden Michelle

As I have been settling back in to life after my trip to Eugene, I have had to do so by hitting the ground running... we are in full swing of homeschooling, co-ops, art-making, and reconnecting with friends and family. I finally was able to spend some time in the last week looking at images from my trip to Eugene, OR, and found that the closer I looked, the more I saw in each image. I found myself smiling and remembering the early morning light that filled the living room that housed the baskets holding these tiny parts of our bigger world. They called out to me like hidden treasures underneath the hearth, waiting to be discovered.

As I took them out and placed them one by one on the stone hearth, I was struck by how similar in make-up the tiny bits were, yet each possessing their own unique characteristics that made them beautiful. I let myself imagine what life they once were part of, and what their journey had been from their place in nature to the place beneath the fireplace... whose hands lifted them up off the ground or out of the water and into pockets. I wondered if they knew they were still full of life-giving energy, and that they were being immortalized through the recording of their shape in space, experienced through holding and feeling their surfaces, and attributed with new meanings that I was projecting onto them. Points to ponder...

I love this part of nature-- the endless shape, form, color, line, texture, and symbolism that is gifted to us so freely. Allowing myself to get lost in these details reminded me to do so intentionally, mindfully, in touch with my breath, especially when I forget to slow down enough to see them surrounding me naturally. I thanked these tiny sculptures for sharing their essence with me, hoping on some level it supported their being, and offered gratitude to Stephen White (light sculptor artist in previous post) for letting me play with them on my last morning in Eugene. Seeing these images will always remind me of the peace felt in the cocoon of morning light, and of allowing myself to be lost while feeling found...

Trip of a Lifetime / September 28, 2016 by Hayden Michelle

Stephen White's light sculpture... one of many masterpieces!

The first week of September, I had the privilege of flying to Eugene, OR, to work with an amazing artist. His name is Stephen White, and he has been making light sculptures for 50 years. I can’t quite recall how I came across his work, although believe it may have been through Helen Hiebert’s wonderful Sunday Paper blog, where she shares different artists working in paper (awesome blog, full of inspiration and information of all things paper).

I remember being bowled over by the initial images of Stephen’s work, and started finding everything I could on his work and journey. I wrote to him and shared my reaction to his work, and inquired as to whether he offered any workshops. He communicated back and said that although he did not offer any workshops, he would be willing to work individually with me, and said he did not know the odds of me wanting to fly across the country to do so. I immediately responded that the odds were actually quite high, and that I would be thrilled to be able to work one-on-one to learn from him. I shared my ponderings about the possibility of being able to combine encaustic with light sculpture, and Stephen said that he was open to this exploration, and curious as to what shared learning might occur. Gulp. I felt I needed to pinch my arm, as it was such a shot in the dark to reach out and have it be warmly received.

View from the plane during sunrise... fortunate to have a window!

We corresponded for most of this last year, and settled on September for my visit. After flying in and visiting some beloved and gracious long-time friends (who treated me like a queen!), I was able to begin my work with Stephen. We laid out goals for the week, and I met with his 2 apprentices, who had worked with him a combined total of 10 years, and did beautiful work. I was able to listen to their individual ways of working, and to watch the different methods they used. They all treated me so kindly, and shared freely and openly... great moral support.

Stephen supporting my first frame and helping me glue it, section by section (and making it appear very easy!)

It was fascinating to watch Stephen work, and for him to put into words what his body and mind had been creating for 50 years. I had such deep appreciation for the difficulty of what he made after getting my hands on the materials. The first day, I just experimented with applying encaustic layered photography onto small frames which he had already built. This was tricky enough, and made me realize this was not going to be easy (and maybe not possible to combine these techniques). It helped me clarify quickly that much experimenting could be done at home, and that my main focus needed to be on building the frames and applying the paper, as well as learning some basics of wiring and building the electrical part of the lamp.

Experimenting with applying encaustic photography over a frame Stephen had built...

Experimenting with more encaustic photography... leading me to realize I just needed to play more at home, and learn how to build and layer with paper, first!

This is where the “fun” began. Stephen left me alone to begin working with the reed, and forming it into shape. I quickly learned that reed is quite difficult to work with…. and my hands fumbled with the unruly reed that seemed to have a life of its own, unfurling into every conceivable direction but the one I was trying to shape it into. I have small hands, and although strong, are not nearly as trained as Stephen’s, so I had to use knees, elbows, ribs to hold the formed reed in place, and was secretly hoping none of them was watching me out of the corner of their eyes. I am quite sure that they were just being respectful not to laugh as I intermittently mumbled something under my breath, snapped the reeds several times when I found their breaking point, realized that bending reed was very painful for my thumb joints, and generally just felt overwhelmed. I admitted to Stephen that the first hour of wrestling the reed into a very basic form reminded me of those coiled spring snakes that leap out of the can when you open the lid (remember those? My brothers always got me with those darn things!).

I doubted whether I would make any shape at all, and was relieved when Stephen quietly came over and started showing me how to use clothespins and clamps in many directions to hold each reed down where it needed to be. We then began gluing each individual reed into place, and creating the composition was slow and steady. I made groupings of 4 concentric circles emanating out from a center, representing my 2 sons, husband, and me being interconnected, but growing out into our own lives as we continue to evolve. Somehow, having some meaning to the forms inspired me and calmed me, and we eventually had a completed frame. I felt like I had just run a marathon (which I have never done… only a half, and that was intense enough!). When I talked to my son that evening, he asked how many lamps I had made so far, and was incredulous that I had only built the frame for one small one… small, but mighty victory!

The next day, I began papering the lamp, which is a very detailed and meticulous process, and results in a beautiful paper surface that looks like handmade paper, diffusing light in the most glorious of ways. I learned that each surface between every reed is covered in 4 layers of fine tissue paper (and this is just the first layer!), and that this detailed work is not for the faint of heart. It gave new appreciation for the beautiful sculptures Stephen has made, and for the enormity of the task at hand, given the large size of most of his work.

Stephen demonstrating how to glue initial layers of tissue down...

Balancing the meditative quality of papering with the truth that the goal is to transmit light in the end (and not lose sight of how many layers were laid down, and will now need to be ripped out and redone for being too thick!  All part of the… — Balancing the meditative quality of papering with the truth that the goal is to transmit light in the end (and not lose sight of how many layers were laid down, and will now need to be ripped out and redone for being too thick! All part of the learning, eh?)

Stephen had just completed a 12 foot sculpture whose inspiration was a cloud formation, and it was shipped to Hawaii for a home installation. “Stunning” does not begin to do it justice… It took over 600 hours of labor, and 7 months to complete. I can only imagine the fortunate family that gets to gaze up at this remarkable work of art day after day…

"Aolani", (12 ft.), "Aolani" means cloud formation....

I spent the next few days moving on to a larger frame, with more unfurling, spirals, and open space. I felt a bit more calm in this construction, and again, was grateful for Stephen’s presence, experience, expertise, and guidance. We had many a laugh over my struggles to build something that was reminiscent of my drawing, rather than a sound physical structure. It became a joke that I clearly had never taken physics, and was a lot of work for my brain and body to wrap around these concepts. So amazing how our brains have a tendency to gravitate to particular ways of thinking. This form went into the category of origami, knitting, and other brain-fry executed art forms (which I do not do!). But it gave me hope that I can learn, and that it is good to make my brain work hard.

Example of the overwhelm of clothespins as I awaited the gluing of each section ("Uh, which one are we on, Stephen?")

These shadows made me as happy as the form was taking shape... confirmation that it was becoming real.

Alternate view... open hole large enough to fit smaller sculpture inside in order to ship back to KY...

Other wonderful experiences happened throughout the week, such as meeting one of my favorite artists who uses much natural material and encaustic in her sculptures and work-- Shannon Weber. I was so surprised and thrilled to get to meet her, not knowing that she only lived about 25 minutes from Stephen. We had a lovely afternoon of connecting and sharing inspiration and discussing technique, and my spirits were lifted further. That afternoon was a great highlight, and I will appreciate the continued friendship with Shannon. It was interesting to see the threads of energy that were similar in each of our works-- although each expressed differently, all are fueled by a deep connection with nature.

One of Stephen's sculptures in a gallery in Eugene...

Every morning we walked through Stephen’s neighborhood, built into the side of a hill that used to be a fruit orchard. I was floored each day as I discovered yet another type of fruit tree, and could not stop talking about how much I wished I could gather up some of that ripened fruit and take it home to preserve. It was like being in some kind of magical land, full of many types of apples, pears, plums, and grapes. The abundance of life seen through this fruit, the amazing birds that perched in the trees, and the views that surrounded us served as continual inspiration and grounding in this magnificent experience.

Discovery by the compost pile in Stephen's back yard...

Stephen was so generous in opening his home to me, which was a gallery of beautiful art made by him and many artists he knows, and it was so comforting to be in this space, to eat such healthy and delicious food, and to listen to bits of Stephen’s life experiences that have brought him all over the world. I wrapped up my week feeling full in every dimension, and grateful beyond words. I will continue exploring this remarkable art form, and see what transpires. And I will carry with me the empowerment that comes from connecting with other kindred spirits who are creating such beauty in their lives, and continue to carry it with me in my connections to those in my life back home.

One of many baskets of gathered treasures sitting in Stephen's home...

Edible treasure from the amazing grocery down the hill...

Tiny presence... less than in inch in size, and full of light, and I love how it mirrors Stephen's light sculptures (or vice versa)...

Found piece of coral (Stephen), resting in the hands of a Buddha statue... embodiment of the peace and joy experienced on this journey...

"Microcosms" / September 20, 2016 by Hayden Michelle

"Tiny Forests in a Big World", 2016, (11 x 19 x 10 inches)

As the summer quickly came to an end, I completed some pieces started months ago… the first involving ornamentation of found bone, bleached and fossilized by the ocean. I pondered its history as I reflected on my own, in the light of losing my mother and reflecting on my own mortality. My mind reflected on these vital frames and the similarities and differences which are evident in our own biological families. I thought of the strength of bone, its integrity enabling the support of all that it carries, and how this stable foundation carries us forward on the many paths in our lives. Because their beauty and form do not become revealed until long after death, I realized I often do not remember to take time to offer gratitude for the amazing job my bones perform for me day after day, so it made me smile to add ornamentation as some bit of homage to their quiet awesomeness…

"In These  Bones", 2016, (4 x 18 x 5 inches) — "In These Bones", 2016, (4 x 18 x 5 inches)

Coming from a large family, I have the privilege of watching many nieces and nephews grow into adulthood, and sit back, amazed, as I witness their unfolding. They are traveling across worlds, near and far, to dive deeply, explore new cultures, and to go inward and know themselves more fully. They are choosing what kind of lives they want to live, empowered by a true sense of choice in who they are becoming. I not only feel floored by their courage to go into the unfamiliar, but am inspired to keep exploring my own world, inside and out, in ways that I may have not ever before have considered feasible. It is such a wonderful experience to feel inspired by their openness and hunger for broadening their perspectives. I respect my siblings as they bravely continue to encourage this freedom to deeply explore life in its myriad of ways. Such permission to just be, and let the plan evolve as it becomes more apparent. I feel fortunate to learn and be energized by their examples-- in the parenting of my young children, and in how I continue to make choices in how I create my evolving life.

"Stand in the Place You Need to Be", (2016), (8 x 14 x 5 inches)

"Stand in the Place You Need to Be", (detail)

"Stand in the Place You Need to Be", (alternate view)

As I watch them grow older and move to where they are called, I reflect on my own path, which grows roots more deeply, planted in the hills of Kentucky. I journey alongside my children as they deepen their connections to others and to the beauty that surrounds us in nature. I started a series of works that delves into these explorations of our forests, both inner and outer, as we bond with and explore the land on which we live, and deepen our sense of knowing ourselves individually, as a family, and as a community. As my children grow more into their own personhood every day, and I, my own, I feel much joy, as well as the range of all emotions that inevitably come, as we navigate these unchartered territories.

"Tiny Forests in a Big World", (alternate view)

And this brings me back full circle to “I feel it in my bones”, a phrase I heard repeatedly as I worked on embellishing the bone with tiny droplets of wax, elemental in their origin and beauty, adding a timeless essence to the bone, taking on a new life. I know I am on the right track in continuing to pursue my art, as every time I work on it either in my mind or actively through my hands, a powerful sense of validation is felt in my own bones. I offer much gratitude for the inspiration that comes from my family, friends, other artists, writers, and of course, nature… the never-ending flow of creative energy out there which brings that which lives in my own bones, alive…

In the Stillness / August 13, 2016 by Hayden Michelle

As I was walking this morning, I was reflecting on the deep need I have had for stillness these past many weeks. As I coped with the decline and death of my mother, I felt my life come to a halt as I witnessed my mother's leaving. I simultaneously experienced the force of life going on, ready or not. It has been a most intense experience, and will be an ongoing process, I am sure. But what has struck me most is that I have really craved quiet and stillness, a time to recover from the hectic pace that we have carried on for weeks (months, and this past year, especially). I have just wanted to sit and watch the indigo buntings that fly by swiftly with their turquoise flash of wings, to feel the rush of air as hummingbirds zoom past, or to register the soft landings of swallowtails on the cone flowers so abundant on the hills below. This is a big shift from my usual pace and flow of energy, where my days are full of caring for my family and surroundings, and making time to create whatever art can come forth. It is good for me to let myself have this quiet and connection with nature as often as possible, as nature brings deep solace, comfort, and healing.

As I have gotten back into my studio, I have soaked up the silence and rhythm of working with my hands, and letting them express in a way deeper than words. The first piece I finished began with a photograph of coral, taken through a glass specimen case in a biology building at Indiana University. As I carved through the crevices in the image, I thought of the many creases in our brains that hold memory, experience, feelings... all the parts that make up who we are. I reflected on my mother, and how full her life was, and how many of these memories, short-term and long ago, faded away as she declined in her disease. And just like the coral remained intact and beautiful in its' solid remains of life, so did my mama's spirit-- in how she handled her decline, and as we hold her spirit dear, still. She was so positive in how she faced the challenges in her life, and showed through example how to put your best foot forward. I titled the piece, "Ascension from the Ocean Floor", and felt some catharsis in allowing this 2D image to become full in a new entity, which I imagined would rise up from the ocean floor and experience a new way of being. Somehow, this provided comfort...

(Original photograph of coral, with relief carving into multiple layers of encaustic)

(detail, "Ascension from the Ocean Floor")

(detail, "Ascension from the Ocean Floor"... love how the light comes through the vessel)

I then began to work with the remnants edges surrounding that sculpture, transforming them into small forms. It was nice to watch them take on their own identities, and to begin to coalesce into a collective whole. There was much patience and deep breathing as I applied the minute detail on each piece, and I reflected on how these same elements are needed throughout our lives as we take on the various ups and downs that are inherent in life. I am grateful for the grounding of my breath, and the reminder that sometimes it is all we need to do to keep going. When I was photographing the sculpture, my 12 year old son remarked that they looked like passengers, which so embodied how I felt about them. We are all passengers in this life, separate in our selves, but together in the journey. More comfort...

And this last piece I also completed in July, during exploration of some health issues I have been having. I had spent the late parts of spring and early summer contemplating certainly the decline of my mother's health, but examining and appreciating my own, as well. As my mother's ability to walk changed from unsteady to wheelchair to bedbound, I thought much on the freedom that mobility allows us, especially on our own accord. Every morning as I walked in the predawn light, I offered gratitude that my legs could carry me, still. Having any changes in our health is a stark reminder that we are not guaranteed smooth sailing, making it vital to remember what we have every day. At least, that is my lesson, and one which I am trying to view in the most positive light.

(detail, "What Does it Mean to Move?", 2016)

I think of the many that lost this freedom of movement as I worked for years in nursing homes and hospice, and as I watched my Mama. I was inspired daily by how they could keep a sense of humor, perspective, gratitude, and open loving energy, despite their restrictions. Such gifts they shared. So it is this energy and awareness which went into the piece, "What Does it Mean to Move?". The original photograph is of handmade art glass which I had in my collection for the making of stained glass. I thought about how glass is made, the solid crystals becoming fluid when heated, and how they form an unknown composition, until the hand of the artist helps direct them before they cool. When the photograph was layered in much wax, I began the carving process, imagining what some of the flow lines might have been, and creating form within form. I then added color through powdered pigment to accentuate new and existing color. The piece is mounted to a cradled birch panel that is in a floating frame, which seems fitting, now that I think about it! We all need more time to float :).

I feel so fortunate to have art as a means of expression, healing, and connecting with others, and am grateful to have been able to share here, again... Thank you for taking the time to read through and join in my process, and have a day full of whatever movement you need or desire!