holiday weekend highlights

Most of the holiday weekend was spent in my studio and office.  I don’t mind – at all.  Friday I played hooky to join a batch of girlfriends for a bit of mountain biking in the Tobacco Root Mountains.  Neva and Shannon (visiting from California) were leaving town the next day and we just HAD to get out and play!

The Jefferson River nearby offered a refreshing finale after we crossed the railroad tracks and crawled under a barbwire fence.   We disturbed several large crayfish while wading into the shallow river.  I laid down in the frigid slow current – tingly then numb.  Later that evening mom and I watched an eerie impressive moonrise after dinner and grocery shopping together.  The moon was HUGE – puffed up 4-5 times its normal size; perhaps an attempt to outdo the oppressive heavy forest fire smoke.

I met Felicia in the late afternoon Monday to climb Britney Spears Arete after putting in a productive eight hours of work.  We were efficient and motivated to get the climb in before sundown.  A loud gusher, the creek in the narrow steep Emigrant Gulch is animated even this late in the season.  Zaydee leapt ahead of us during the forty-minute approach up the steep scree slope to the base of the artete.  Covered with soft deep green moss and multi-colored lichen – the multi-pitch climb is rarely done despite the fine aesthetic qualities.  We went from the truck to the top and back in less than 2 hours.  Sweet.

The extra “spoonful of sugar” in our holiday outing was dinner and a soak at Chico Hot Springs on the way home; a cherry-topped ending to a labor-filled weekend.

momma nature unleashed

Even Momma Nature has serious housekeeping to do - forest fires are part of life in the mountains.  Purge.  Renew. Scary.  Impressive. Haunting.  Devastating.  Mesmerizing.

The fires around my neck of the woods have been especially daunting so far and the season is only half over.   Two of my favorite “haunts” (wilderness areas) were blasted by nature’s fury this past week.  The Millie Fire engulfed Hyalite Canyon near Bozeman; more than 30,000 acres scorched 3 days into the fire and still raging.  Wednesday afternoon a fire started in the wee community of Pine Creek; burnt five homes to the ground in the 1st few hours then leapt into the coveted wilderness quite close to home where I hike, mountain bike and ice climb.  Earlier this spring I made another return pilgrimage to Black Mountain and swam in Pine Creek Lake (see blog post).  The scenery up Pine Creek is so stunning it feels like you are in a Lord of the Rings movie.  Burned.

My experience years ago as a wild firefighter broadened my perspective and deepened my respect for fire.  The good, the bad, the ugly, and breathtaking beauty are found in Momma Natures inferno. A mix of emotions as intense as the blaze flares when the earth around me is torched.  I confess one of the persistent thoughts while I drove toward the fire Wednesday evening to help friends evacuate was simply an overwhelming attachment to the sculpture finished less than 24 hours before the fire started.  Three months in the making, the finished piece has not been seen by anyone and MUST be seen (by everyone!!!)   But I am thinking ahead of myself - while wildfire is always possible up here, my studio and home are not threatened by the fires currently burning.  Of course fire is on my mind and in my work.  Wilderness and wildfires influence the “Reliquaries”  (see my artist’s statement).

Awestruck and in shock - my heartstrings stretch, coil, reflect and grieve.

a bit more than we bargained for

Sunday morning broke cool and calm – definitely a whiff of autumn in the air after a chilly night.  The sun lazily slept-in behind a smoke filled sky.  I opted for a day away from the studio to catch up on chores at the cabin with plans to play in the afternoon.  Leslie called on her way up from Jackson to firm up our plans to paddleboard on the Yellowstone.  I was still wearing flannel - tempted by thoughts of a much-needed nap and wondering about the cool temps.  BUT – the urge to play before Momma Nature officially put summer in the closet got me motivated.  Besides, the weather app on my cell phone stated “0% chance of rain and highs in the mid-80’s.”

We optimistically smeared on sunscreen, pulled on long-sleeve shirts and launched.  The first raindrops landed within ten minutes of paddling…and paddling is something we never stopped doing since the wind kept trying to blow us right back upriver.  After drizzling on us a few times during the 1sthour of paddling, Momma Nature unleashed an impressive storm complete with thunder and lightning.  Teaspoon-size drops of rain pelted us.  I laughed out loud as we paddled to an island to take shelter beneath a batch of trees under the watchful eye of a BIG beautiful owl.  We continued to paddle (paddle and paddle) down river once the storm blew over.  The sun broke out beaming just as we loaded our boards in the truck at the take-out – Momma Nature grinned mischievously.  The joke was on us; our little 2.5-hour adventure happened during the only 2 hours of adverse weather during the last few weeks.

commission distraction

More than any other time in my career, promising possibilities are RIGHT there…dangling…nearly touching down with running shoes on ready to spring into action.  I can’t wait to blast out of the starting blocks and launch the NEW series out into the world! But, before the starting gun goes off there are countless distractions such as simply making a living.  So last week while the 1st sculpture in my new series stood nearly complete; I was busy cranking out a commissioned project in clay.

Clay makes me feel like I’m in grade school – not a bad feeling but it is certainly a much different feeling than the bold challenging adventure of the new sculpture series.  Clay is soft and mushy without the fresh cut wood scent of woodchips and sawdust.  Clay makes me want to eat malt balls.  Ok – many things can bring on a craving for malt balls but somehow the sound of malt balls rolling in a carton just seems to go with the idea of pushing clay around.

 

 

Here’s a peek at the commission:

Glad to report the commission is complete; delivered to the foundry.  Today not only will I add the final finish touches to the new sculpture but I will also be bringing 2 new logs into the studio.  Photos coming…!

a day away...

Last Sunday after a totally sleepless night I decided to get up in the dark, pack some decadent scrumptious goodies and drive to the Crazy Mountains with Zaydee to join a girlfriend who had gone backpacking there for the weekend.  Originally I was going to be with Bev for the whole adventure but I had too much to do in the studio.  Summit fever pushed me to finish the sculpture with the barbwire but I found myself at a stand still.  I swear every project goes from being engaging, exciting and just-how-I-imagined to the horrific deflated uninspired place of “oh no I totally wrecked it!!!”  I know now this is part of the process – much like any relationship when the honeymoon is over.  Luckily just like being in love, honeymoons can happen over and over in between the dull and/or scary stuff.  Often one needs simply to step back and step out for a new perspective. 

Sunlight Lake is nestled near two other picturesque lakes surrounded by a craggy ridgeline, scree slopes and patches of snow.  Each lake boasts vividly different colors; Sunlight is the bluest – a clear deep topaz blue.  We enjoyed a lakeside lunch of red wine with fancy salami, baked goods and chocolate.   We lounged.  We talked about men, relationships, and life.  I swam twice.  Later that afternoon, Zaydee’s eyes drooped into sleep mode back at the truck at the trailhead while Bev and I sipped a tiny bottle of Knob Hill Whiskey before setting out across the Shields Valley toward home.  The “Rebel Burger” at the Clyde Park Tavern was the perfect topper to a refreshing day away.  Sunday night I slept.  Monday brought just the keen sight and gumption I needed to mix and layer stain on the sculpture in an inspired rescue mission - from grimace to a satisfied nod – stay tuned for photos.

 

hooked on barbwire

Oh my goodness I’ve discovered a new (old) material that I’m super excited about!  The idea to use barbwire in the new reliquary series occurred to me many months ago.  The collection began with a few random strands plucked from somewhere and a ditched coil I stumbled upon at a truck stop.  They’ve been stashed outside the studio waiting... Alas – last week I began working with the stuff.  I fell in love with the rich rusted patina of a particular big-barbed strand - perfect for this sculpture.  The coil of wire wasn’t the same as the strand; a search began.

One strategic (or lucky) phone call to my buddy Vern led to some hundred-year-old barbwire that had been recently clipped for a project to allow fence friendly passageways for antelope.

I love the place and purpose behind this wire and could only hope that the color and texture would work for the sculpture.  Vern said it was nearly black from rust.  I'd have scooted to the old ranch pronto but had some "momma world" things to do thus it was late afternoon before I rolled up to the stone house along the Yellowstone River where the wire snarled and sprang maliciously above the dry grass.

Next time I go to gather barbwire I won’t likely be wearing a new short flowery summer dress.  I will pack Kleins.  Luckily I had a friend along.  We made due with my Leatherman and a screwdriver.  Jeffery was using my only pair of leather gloves so he got the job wrestling the wire into coils as I tweaked the old tacks and pulled the strands apart from the twisted wire supports.  We loaded several coils into my truck after an hour of barbwire wrangling then drove a few more miles to the Boiling River for a hot springs soak followed by buffalo burgers at sunset.

I wasn't convinced the wire would work at first since the barbs were much smaller than those on the strand I initially thought perfect for this sculpture.  The patina was darker without the warmth but I grew to like the cool deep dark rust.  Installation into the niche was a tedious project that took two of us several days to accomplish.   More than 160 feet of wire was cajoled into place; the niche transformed.

The meanings suggested by the barbwire is as layered and rich as the rust.  The possibilities of the new medium sprout like weeds in my mind– tenacious but tantalizing.  The o'l barbs have me hooked.

seven layers so far

Woodgrain is the thumbprint, veins, history, story, kin, life and vital meanderings of a tree.  My intent is very rarely to erase the grain but rather exalt, hint, honor and dance with its intrinsic beauty.

Thus – no matter the direction I aim to push color in a sculpture– the process requires PATIENCE; in other words – lotsa layers.  The photo shows seven layers of stain.  I may be almost half-finished with the background color.  However at this point in the project I lacked some "metallic magic."  None of the local stores carried what I needed so while I was in Jackson Hole to climb in the Tetons and crash the Wildlife Museum Gala (see post below) I also managed to place a few orders for supplies; including an assortment of small crushed and polished gemstones to inlay into the sculpture.  I was soooooo into seeing the sculpture finished that it was maddening to be stalled out by lack of materials.  Luckily the Tetons trip had been planned months earlier so I packed the weekend with adventure.  The following week I taught a two-day studio intensive.    The studio intensive was a first for me.  A mini-art camp in my studio for one special young lady who is determined to soak up all the art-learning she can before entering her final year of high school.  I believe we both gleaned from the experience.  I am in constant "gobble mode" myself - always learning.  The knowledge and encouragement I shared with Angelique made me realize just how much I have ingested during my life of "gobbling."

always a bit scary at first...

Put the 1st layer of stain on today.  SCARY.  But GOOD scary since the fear comes from being attached to the piece in its current beauty and because the 1st layers of stain are never even close to the vision in my head – thus they are usually pretty ugly.  The color is weak, not rich and it shows ALL blemishes previously hidden in the blonde wood.  The feeling is similar to the feeling I get the first ½ hour of any rigorous outdoor adventure when my body hasn’t warmed up to the idea of whatever I have just gotten it into.  The monkey’s start chattering in my head – telling me I’m not fit enough, experienced enough, fueled enough etc. to complete the adventure ahead.  The monkeys pipe in with screeching jittery doubts throughout the creative process in the studio too. Years of experience have taught me that the monkeys are always there.  If I ignore them then they just chatter more loudly.  So I banter with them much like a bartender would.  Thus this morning I cranked the tunes, chattered with the monkeys, took more than one deep breath and kept staining.

Tomorrow I can fix the blemishes and continue the layering process – building color upon color.

(The above blog entry was actually written a few weeks ago - I'm playing catch up)

peaks and parties

Crisp cool air drops heavy non-subtle hints of autumn - I feel compelled to tag summits, mountain bike my booty off, gather firewood for the studio woodstove and pull on a pair of socks. Tea sipping is more pleasurable when it is downright cold outside and I love the particular scrumptious joy of heavy covers on my bed. But weather is a total smorgasbord in the mountains of Montana and I haven’t a doubt there will be more scorching hot days ahead.

Meanwhile the whiff of autumn spins me into overdrive as I squeeze in as much adventure as possible both inside and outside the studio. One week ago a batch of lovely girlfriends and I met before sunup at the base of Teewinot in the Tetons for a peak-bagging day. I just LOVE the Tetons and all that Jackson Hole offers in the way of art, food, folks and adventure…! I drooled over original Chagall paintings and Matisse sculptures, ate Thai, scooted carefully past a moose while mountain biking, tagged a summit, danced at a museum gala, clawed my way up an exceptionally aesthetic multi-pitch buttress, wined, dined and shopped.

 

woodchips, sawdust and shirtless shop boys

Since I have been pretty good about documenting the carving process of the current sculpture, I’ll post a few more photos to help catch up to where I am currently with the piece.  The piles of woodchips and sawdust in the photos are actually long gone by now – carted off by my shop leprechauns.  Ok.  Not really.  But I can’t help my Disney World fantasy of elves or leprechauns that whistle and clean the studio when I’m in bed at night so that I can enter each morning to a sawdust free work space, chisels sharpened and the smell of one fresh cinnamon roll next to a hot cup of tea.

Maybe I HAVE been ingesting too much sawdust?!

The other clean shop fantasy involves shirtless shop boys and was actually started by a video of Louise Nevelson I watched while attending school at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts many many moons ago.  She had handsome shop boys who handled all the heavy labor of creating her large steel sculptures. She was pretty old; wearing her long fake eyelashes, hair in a scarf, a flannel shirt and holding a cigarette in a long filter which she used to point with between dramatic drags of tobacco.  The shop boys (ok - they were young men - remember Louise must have been in her 70's or so) - the young men would look to her for direction.  She would nod or shake her head and point with that long filtered cigarette.  I vowed then and there to have my own pack of shop boys when I'm too old to do the tough stuff by myself.  Shirtless is my addition to the plan.  I'll skip the cigarette but maybe false eyelashes...?

 

post payden ride perma-grin

Still grinning and giddy from the grand day riding 100 miles for Payden yesterday; I am bubbling beyond joy.  Who knew?!! I am not exactly sure what I expected.  I just know that since the event’s inception eleven years ago I wanted to participate but was limited to sponsoring riders since I didn’t own a road bike.  The used bike is new to me and BOY HOWDY am I ever a newbie at road riding…!  The sport looks simple on the outside but like most things, there is more to it than meets the eye.

For example: I had no idea that road bike tires don’t hold air and should be checked before every ride.  I don’t even own one of those tire gage pumps even though I have been a pretty avid mountain biker for nearly two decades.  The new bike and I have only ridden together five times since spring but yesterday morning I had the event number "113" pinned to my brand new very 1st bike jersey and road out of Sacageua Park at 6:15 a.m. with a batch of friends after three hours of sleep.  My bike felt sluggish.  I looked down at my tires in the dim dawn light and decided I was simply feeling a bit sluggish myself – seriously – not even the sun was up fully.  I hadn’t been on the bike for six weeks, I am always a bit slow to warm up and I was more concerned about how the seat felt since I knew it was going to be a long ride and the seat felt – well – it felt  (which was my concern).  Promptly distracted by the large Canadian Goose, my concerns were forgotten.  The determined critter was running behind us with its beak wide open flapping its wings and waddling high speed – block after block after block.  Seems the beautiful bird didn’t want to be left behind or was giving us a running ovation start?!!!  How many centurion fundraising events start with a goose chase?!

We left Livingston and began the climb up the Bozeman Pass.  I was grinning even then – finally I was going to ride for Payden and other Montana families faced with the gut wrenching challenge of a child with cancer.  I rode with the warm fuzzy force of more than 30 people who pledged my ride during the short four-day pre-event fundraising campaign.  How wonderful to have such good people in my world and the good fortune of a healthy body and new toy to put to a good cause!  My generous sponsors blew past my $1000 fundraising goal.  I was emotionally, physically and spiritually stoked (and still laughing about the goose).

The Pass wasn’t too bad.  Everyone said the next pass was harder but the gorgeous rolly polly curved luscious and scenic ride through Jackson Creek was inspirational.  The Bridger Mountains are a fantastic backdrop and setting.  Not only were we riding in God’s country but God’s country also happens to be my back door!  The temps were perfect.  Gracious cloud cover subdued the sun.  I rode long sections by myself and other bits with others.  We were sharing the usually quiet road with dozens of trucks pulling horse trailers.  Was there a rodeo somewhere?  The “Poker Ride” sign at the Big Sky Ski Resort turnoff explained the horse trailer exodus.  Big trucks and trailers are a bit scary for this novice road rider.  A group of gal pals caught up with me on the climb up Battle Ridge Pass.  We chatted and puffed our way up the pass then gorged ourselves on goodies at the rest stop set up for us at the top.  While the gals zipped down the mountain pass without peddling, I pedaled full speed to keep their pace.  Hmmmmm?!  Maybe there was a technical reason the bike had been for sale?!  I looked at my tires again but they simply looked super skinny and certainly not flat from my point of view besides it was infinitely more fun to suck in the view than to stare at the road or worry about my bike.

The road to Wilsaw in the Shields Valley is no less scenic than the Bridger Mountains we’d left behind.  The Crazy Mountains loomed ahead while the postcard perfect countryside boasted beautiful ranches, silos, haystacks, patchwork fields, giant John Deere tractors and the Shields River.  Breathtaking.  Speaking of breath – I was panting.  Val waved the SAG wagon over to have them look at my tires since she thought they looked a low.

Low?!!  I quickly learned a valuable lesson about road bike tires.  “ALWAYS check and pump before EACH ride” our local bike shop fella and friend Storrs told me while shaking his head.  I learned that my tires should be at 120 pounds of pressure, which explains the sluggishness since they were at 30 and 40 pounds respectfully.  Egads!  More than 4 hours, two mountain passes and 60+ miles into the ride and the gift of properly pumped tires made me feel taller in my seat but more important: each pedal stroke was oodles more efficient.  I also felt each little road bump more but it’s a fine trade-off when you consider the heavy -work-load option of biking on nearly deflated tires.

I could have kissed Val and our SAG wagon guru Storrs.  Which makes me want to mention the overwhelming love I feel for all of the people who volunteer behind an event like this.  Cheery people set up rest stops with fresh water and munchies at intervals.  The SAG wagon fixed flat after flat followed by mechanicals etc.  Professional massage therapists greeted us at Sacajawea Park to give free massages after riders crossed the cheering finish line.   The energy people shared brightened a loving force and fueled our cause.   The only thing that kept me from grinning stupidly throughout the ride was the threat of bugs in my teeth.Payden's signature and handprint

I learned quite a bit about myself, others and the sport of road riding.  I took turns in the lead “drafting” in a pack of fellas while riding the final twenty miles in a headwind.  Throughout the day we shared stories, laughs, panting, ibuprofen and encouragement during the eight hours on the road.  Momma Nature graced us with cool temps and pummeled us with a memorable wee tantrum of big-drop rain right before the finish line.  The scenery was out of this world.  My fanny faired better than expected.  The goodwill feeling stitched together by caring community put a perma-grin on my face.  I wore the grin home, filled my clawfoot tub, poured a glass of wine and ate brownies while I soaked.

I don't yet know the Blazing Saddles event fundraising total but my pledged contribution was more than $1700 for the Payden Memorial Foundation.  Donations can still be made on my pledge page.  A bright yellow jersey was given to me for raising more than $1000.  The jersey has Payden's sweet six year old signature printed on his hand print on the backside along with a drawing he did of himself on each sleeve.  Sweet.  Sad.  Touching.  Inspiring.

I imagine it will be a few days before I pull on my new jersey and ride.  I guarantee I will have pumped up tires and an inflated smile to match.  

worthy cause event

A sweet bit of grace added a little road bike to my arsenal of outdoor adventure toys this spring – why not use if for a good cause?!

Actually the Payden Memorial Foundation is more than a good cause: A Livingston family lost their dear sweet 6-year-old boy to cancer in 2000. The foundation is their way to celebrate Payden's life by helping Montana families who face the nightmarish challenge of a child with cancer. The Blazing Saddles ride is the biggest fundraising event for the foundation. Each year I have pledged my support to a number of riders but this year I will ride 100 miles for the cause.

I have never ridden 100 miles...!  The event snuck up on me (yes – the studio work keeps me captivated) so I registered last minute (Monday) and have been raising pledges since.  I haven't trained -  in fact I have ridden the bike exactly five times earlier this spring (but once was during a triathlon and another ride was over a mountain pass).

The day after tomorrow I will plunk my butt down on that wee little seat and pedal for Payden.   I have almost reached my goal of $1000 in pledges and would LOVE to beat it!!!

Your support and a bit of gumption on my part can help take care of families during their heartbreaking struggle.

Just take a quick moment to click on this link to sponsor: http://blazingsaddles.dojiggy.com/amberjean

You’ll reap the sparkle of warm fuzzies and my heartfelt gratitude…

in the beginning...

Thunder is rolling outside.  Zaydee is a bit bummed (scared by Momma Nature’s grumbling) but so far she hasn’t crawled under my desk.  I am once again light years behind on the desk part of studio life but here is my main excuse: FOUR batches of guests in the last two weeks.  The post-it notes are spreading like ants across my desk (ugh!  ANTS!!! – that was a whole other battle in my cabin with giant carpenter ants but I won’t be side-tracked…!) My plans to keep the blog current with photos of progress of my latest sculpture have been thwarted by the 4th of July, being a host and – well – life!  Thus this photo was taken three weeks ago.  The Fir is MUCH softer than the Mesquite I worked with recently AND it smells better.  I don’t blame Mesquite for smelling the way it does.  The wood is old, dense, dark and slow growing but my gut instinct tells me Mesquite is toxic.  Fresh intoxicating NEW wood smell permeates my studio as the piles of woodchips and sawdust pile up.  I love being hit with the aroma of fresh cut wood when entering my studio early in the morning!

snow angels on black mountain summit

Eleven studio days straight in a row – AWESOME to be sooooooo inspired to create.  I ignore my phone and computer each day til noon (and often after that).  The first sculpture in a new series has me captivated while the woodchips and sawdust pile up.  Yes!  I’ll have photos but this post is going to be about my day off!!

Sunday morning before sunrise I packed water, food, ice ax and crampons for an early season accent of Black Mountain.  What a GLORIOUS day!!!

 

Engorged with melted snow, the waterfalls were bigger than I’ve ever seen – breathtaking!!!  We hiked several thousand feet above Paradise Valley to Pine Creek Lake, which was mostly covered in ice.  Snow gullies and talus slopes led to the summit of Black Mountain above the lake where Joe Joe, Ari and I napped and hung out for two hours before glissading down the snow bowl to the lake.  I promptly jumped in (twice)…!  REFRESING to say the least…!  We spent another few hours lounging at the lake while Joe tried to catch fish (I saw him catch himself but I shouldn’t mention that…)

 

The rock, the water, the sky, the moss, and the views are simply out of this world – like something from Lord of the Rings.  The summit was infinitely easier to tag than the last time I was up there 3 years ago before surgery to remove the debilitating five-pound tumor.  Luckily my health and fitness have returned with a vengeance.  Even with only 2 hours of sleep, the summit felt like a walk in the park.  I could have Snoopy danced (and would of but I didn’t want Zaydee to get too excited for fear that she would dance her way onto the cornice and disappear.  Instead we made snow angels (Zaydee too)

 

Click the link below for a super short snow angel’s video -be sure to watch Zaydee...!

Black Mountain Snow Angels

View the Black Mountain album on my Facebook page for more photos of our adventure.