As you may recall from my July update, or, If you had a chance to peek in Vault 13 on Sunday, you'll know that I've been dancing with devine destruction these past few months.
Nothing has gone as planned.
Chaos around every corner.
One step forward, two... make that three... steps back.
And as is often the case, it all began with a story involving a trickster. In this case, a raven.
Without offering a half-baked or epically longwinded play-by- play, I'll simply say the story does a pretty good job of demonstrating what's been going on in my studio. It also drops a fair amount of wisdom and insight regarding what's happening in the world today, on a mythic level.
If you've found yourself troubled by talks of nuclear weapons, acts of racism, hate and generalized small thinking, I encourage you to accept this gift from the ancestors, handed to me from the elders of the Bardolands. Personally, I found the story to be a healing balm and perspective shifter for when things in the world feel profoundly out of balance, externally as well as internally.
If you CLICK HERE, you'll find your way into Vault 13 and have access to the story. Yes, I know, Vault 13 is supposed to have disappeared. Well... I jammed a rock in the doorway which should hold it open for a few more days, just for you!
Though I promised not to go on and on, I do think a small example of the behind the scenes chaos is worth sharing:
Raven sculpture #3 (because two ravens is merely attempted murder -get it? Attempted murder? two ravens... never mind), raven #3 was meant to be small, simple, and super easy.
Oy! To hear me say that now...
The sculpt itself, as simple as it may look in Photo A, was deceptively complex and took several days to complete. But when it was done... I was admittedly very pleased with both it and myself.
Then, I set out to create the mold.
As per the very explicit instructions from the company who makes the silicone, it was to be put in a pressure pot in order to create a mold that would be able to withstand castings being made under pressure and thus create perfect, bubble-free castings.
This procedure completely warped the clay sculpture and resulted in castings that were anything but perfect! Furthermore, while I may have been able to redo the sculpture and pour a second mold, at a considerable expense I might add, I was so deflated, I could hardly bare the thought of starting over.
Literally at the edge of taking the once funny little clay bird and throwing him full force into the barn door, with my arm cocked back, I gave him one last look good-bye.
And that's when it happened.
Just like in the story, though I was far less cool than the old woman about the whole thing, my vision grew.
Right before my eyes, the raven shape-shifted into a new version of itself. The one, I think, it was meant to be all along.
To be clear, it didn't literally change shape, but visually, I saw what it was meant to be and my capacity to understand it three dimensionally, grew.
So, I set to work to make this new vision a reality.
Several days later I finished the sculpture, which could only mean one thing; time to make a mold. Again.
The fact that this latest version was considerable larger only meant I was looking at the possibility of a far more expensive mistake. Success however, was also a distinct possibility.
This time, I chose to create a mold using a process that made way more sense to me, in spite of the fact it went against the manufacturers suggestion. Their logic was off and I knew it. I knew it before too, but I didn't trust myself enough to take the helm and steer the ship in the right direction.
Like any pirate king worth his weight in gold, I took back the ship and sailed straight toward a new horizon.
The final products, each born from their own chaotic experiences, will be ready for release with the eclipse of the sun this coming Monday, August 21st. Like I said, there are three very special and distinct versions of this harbinger of creation, each ready to bring its' new owner some very good medicine.
Yours in service,
Capt. R. M. Trotta, Pirate King of the Bardolands