Komorebi is an untranslatable word. It is a compound of four characters – three kanji and the hiragana particle れ. The first kanji 木 means ‘tree’ (or ‘trees‘), the second one 漏 refers to ‘escape’ and the last one 日 is ‘light‘ or ‘sun‘ and there we come to the literal, yet very poetic meaning of the term komorebi – the sunshine filtering through the leaves of trees. (from EVS Translations)
The vermiculite containment form turned out fine. The plaster/silica investment core turned out fine as well. After several tries I was able to stack the cut-glass strips snugly between the core and box walls. (I forgot to photograph this process.) From this point on, everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong due to bad judgement calls. The glass stuck to the vermiculite form, the glass cracked, and the mess you see below is the result. Do I understand enough at this point to try it again and is it worth it? I haven't decided yet.
Poem and photos dedicated to Crystal Cove, where I walked on the beach in the morning before going to work at UC Irvine.
I mosey and meander
on the beach at Crystal Cove,
dazzled by the brilliance
of my sparkling treasure trove.
Sequined waves unfurling
hide treasures to behold,
a cymbal-crashing symphony
of diamonds and of gold.
I hear the gemstones clacking
in splendid harmony,
as cast upon the shoreline
they reveal themselves to me.
A fracture teems with critters
encased in slimy green,
emitting tiny bubbles….
a clue to life unseen.
Ninth Biennial International Juried Kiln-Glass Exhibition for Emerging Artists
I had the honor of being selected as one of 42 finalists from 370 entries representing 16 countries. Emerge 2016 was on view at Bullseye Projects in Portland from June 25 – October 1, 2016.
Reading passages from Pema Chodrun’s lessons on mindfulness, I found this quote:
“And what we call ego is … grasping on to small parts, which is our personal experience saying, 'I want this and I don’t want that' 'I like this and I don’t like that.' We are grasping onto our limited thinking instead of staying with what’s really possible for us.”
A particular ceramic sculpture by a Japanese artist grabbed my attention and held onto it for months. Composed of three white nested bowls with dark blue trim, they were simply elegant and deeply compelling. I spent a long time trying to reproduce her concept in glass. It seemed the tighter my grasp on the outcome, the slower my progress. It wasn’t until I let go of that concept that I began to have fun and move forward to a more satisfying endeavor.
I am currently working with fine glass powders in subtle gradations of aquamarine, soft blues, grays and greens, reminiscent of the distinctive Seihakuji glazes perfected by the Chinese in the eleventh century. After multiple firing operations in the kiln to fuse and mold the glass into panels and vessels, I use a variety of grinding and blasting tools to further shape and refine the glass edges and surfaces to achieve the thin-walled translucence and matte surfaces that distinguish Seihakuji porcelain.
One of my pieces from the Seihakuji collection, Laguna Ikebana Bowl, was selected for the Bullseye Projects Ninth Biennial International Juried Kiln-Glass Exhibition for Emerging Artists in June 2016. Others pieces were exhibited at Sandstone Gallery in Laguna Beach CA in the summer of 2015.
My work space is a "mother-in-law" apartment on the lowest level of my house. Double French doors open onto a wide wooden deck, where I do my sawing, grinding and sandblasting... the wet and dirty work. My cold-working machines roll on casters over the threshold onto the deck during the day and back inside at night. The deck overlooks my garden in the foreground and the vast Pacific Ocean beyond.