Turning a Year Older at the Rensing Center

Lindsay Tigue

Athens, GA

May- June 2015

Turning a Year Older at the Rensing Center

When I reflect on my recent three-week residency at the Rensing Center, I am grateful for the details of the place--the little writer's cabin with its screened-in porch, the desk with the porthole window onto the trees, the little green ceramic mug for my morning coffee, and the Alder Creek trail with its rope down to the falls. I loved greeting the baby goats every morning alongside the soundtrack of their ringing collar bells. I enjoyed the heft of carrying my laundry from one end of the residences to the other to wash and then dry; I counted on my routine of nightly discarding my compost in the bin adjacent to the garden. The later part of my scheduled residency happened to coincide with my thirtieth birthday and I realize how grateful I am to have celebrated it in such a peaceful and enriching environment. People kept calling my birthday a milestone birthday and the term slightly unnerved me, as if the age was supposed to come about alongside its own attendant achievement and success. It can be tempting, of course, to look around on one's birthday and ask, am I doing enough? Being enough? I think, for me, escaping to the shaded and forested hills, the pasture, and the creek; holing up to complete a draft of my book, helped me to focus on the work at hand. It turns out, the details of the place helped the details of my project to appear in focus. I was able to sit and, for hours at a time, read. For hours at a time, I could write. The time and space allowed me to figure things out about my project and to take it in directions I'm not sure I would have otherwise discovered.

My actual birthday was full of wonderful people. The day before, some dear friends made the trek from Athens, Georgia to visit and we sat up on the porch talking late into the night. On the actual day, Ellen, the Rensing Center director, had a lovely potluck for me at her house. The fellow Rensing Center artists-in-residence were there, as were many people associated with the Center. There were cupcakes with chocolate frosting (thanks to Katie the Rensing intern!) and we toasted champagne around a perfect summer bonfire. It's a birthday I will most certainly remember.

During the early days of the residency, I had a slight nagging fear that I wasn't accomplishing enough, but as the days went on, I found a rhythm. When I left, I was so excited about the momentum I'd created. I left ready to continue writing and revising my project. I was more certain of where to head next.  -- Lindsay Tigue

Rensing Tree

Luna Layla

Fort Worth, TX

May 2015

Rensing Tree

Above is my favorite tree at Rensing.  I gave her a visit today and after saying hello, turned around and headed back the way I came.  A little further down the trail I felt pulled to explore the little nook below.  A shiny glint of something caught my eye (found out later it was the mineral mica), I crouched down by the water's edge to get a closer look and a wonderful thing happened... 

I had one of those rare moments in adulthood when you find yourself doing something you did as a kid, like being hunkered over a stream looking at rocks, and you're getting dirty and it starts to rain but you don't care because you're lost in curiosity.  You are connected to that long-since-used child brain that runs on wonder.  It is such an important thing to be reminded of.  -Layla Luna

Patterns Reinterpreted from Nature

Kelly Monico

Denver, CO

May 2015

Patterns Reinterpreted from Nature

I was excited to travel to the comfy backwoods of Pickens, South Carolina where I knew I’d have the opportunity to fully immerse myself in my artistic practice at the Rensing Center. This type of immersion is difficult to do with a busy teaching schedule during the academic year. Luckily, I was able to procure ten rich and productive days.
Immediately after arriving at the Rensing Center, I found myself seduced by the captivating scenery and environment. There is a sense of serenity and stillness here that simply isn’t accessible in urban life. The milieu of the Rensing Center, the land, setting, and power of the environment, would be the catalyst for my work over the next 10 days. The peaceful landscape includes twenty some acres of green grass, goats, cows, and a surplus of hundred year old trees. Amidst this vast acreage is a wonderful nature trail that I leisurely hiked several times each day. On my very first hike I began to record and document my environment along the trail. Elements and variables recorded along the path included; trees, slope of trail, leaves, sounds, weather, the creek, temperature, plant life, and flowers. By reinterpreting the information along the trail through patterns, I was able to translate the land into another physical form - creating a hybridity between topography and art. 

The patterned artwork on the left shows documentation that visualizes elements recorded along the nature trail. Every 10 steps are marked with a specific color that designates downhill, uphill, flat, and extreme downhill. The number of rectangular and horizontal shapes in each column represents the amount of trees visible along the edge of the path. The artwork reads from top to bottom, starting with the top left corner of the composition. I’m currently rendering drawings on top of the print that correspond with the amount of leaves and branches fallen along the path. All of this data is recorded in the notes seen left of the artwork.

 ~Kelly Monico | Denver, Colorado 
kellymonico.com/

Threads and Egg Shells

Justina Kochansky

London, UK

March-April 2015

Threads and Egg Shells

When I first came to the Rensing Center, I'd considered making some mementos about small moments of beauty. You can't preserve the spark of joy from the first crocus of the season and, human beings being what we are, even if you could the initial joy would be difficult to maintain, but I wanted to make some sort of homage. My time here has been full of such moments and with the quieting of the “little haters” I felt more able to absorb them. So my original plan of making sculptures to bring home with me quickly changed into wanting to leave gifts behind.

While I was studying shadow puppetry in Bali, I observed the daily ritual of preparing woven leaf baskets and filling them with gifts for the gods; cooked rice, fresh fruit, flowers, occasionally a piece of candy or a cigarette. This was a very time consuming but important part of each day. The offerings were placed on the family shrines with respectful ceremony and then... it didn't matter what happened to them. The importance was in the presenting, not in the preservation of the gift. More often than not, the offerings were eaten by the stray dogs that roamed about, but that was okay because the gift had been given.

So in a similar spirit, I've made fifteen small sculptures and ornaments for the Alder Trail out of materials that will degrade or rot away. These were inspired by the materials themselves but also by moments of joy I've experienced while here.

(And I must say, the placing/giving of the sculptures inspired even more moments of joy than I'd expected. The sculptures were made first, and then I walked the trail to decide where they should go. When it came time to distribute them, they suited the locations so well it surprised me; without even measuring spaces beforehand they fit almost perfectly. It wasn't so much giving them up as putting them where they needed to be.)

Pictograph Egg – Inspired by some local examples, as well as the goats and Bob the Cat. Egg shell, red clay, gold thread.

Lichen Spine – Lichen, stick, snake skin, paper box, tissue paper.

Book – Egg shell, snake skin, paper, gold thread.

Spine – This fit so beautifully with the tree, I wish I could say I'd planned it, but it is instead a gloriously happy accident. Egg shells, lichen, paper, twine.

Notes on the Materials

Egg Shells: I suspect the Easter holiday has had some influence on my wanting to use egg shells, but I think I will continue working with them after I return home. I've also been influenced by the FauxbergeEgg Series of Kasey Smith.

Orchids: I share my grandmother's love of orchids, so I had to use some dried ones in my work.

Lichen: Lichen is frequently ignored, but I find the variety of forms fascinating and beautiful.

Gold Thread: I remember hearing that sometimes birds will use colourful thread in their nests. While this thread won't degrade very quickly, I hope that the local birds have sparkly nests for the next few seasons!

Tuesday March 24, 2015

Ingrid Erickson

North Carolina

March 2015

Tuesday March 24, 2015

Today marks just over a week of my two week residency here at the Rensing Center, and I already know the time to be too short…this rich mixture of companionship and solitude, reflection and discussion, against a backdrop of rapidly greening March hills has made for a very productive time.  It is often difficult to strike a balance between teaching (which I love) and my own practice.  Here I have been able to become utterly absorbed in my own work. 

I hear the tinkle of the goats’ bells from the adjoining meadow; the leaves of the giant magnolia glow in the afternoon’s still-warming sun…Walking and writing have enriched my daily practice while I have been here. Each day I have taken my journal to the waterfall to write and think.

From my journal yesterday:

10:42am The ground is damp from yesterday’s long rain and I saw the deeply imprinted prongs of deer tracks following the trail…A wild turkey burst from the brush as I was rounding the bend towards the creek.  The song of the creek is a little louder and more assertive after yesterday’s rain.

I’ve enjoyed the Rensing Center’s many outdoor spaces in between bursts of studio activity—a bench in the garden by the daffodils has become my favorite afternoon coffee spot. I’ve enjoyed cooking with bay leaves from outside Justina’s studio, and fresh oregano, sage, and parsley from the herb garden behind the pottery. Each day something new seems to burst into bloom.

This has been a pivotal time and place for me, and has allowed me the time and space to think broadly and deeply about my work without distractions. I know that I will take some of this momentum and energy with me.

-Ingrid Erickson, March 15-28, 2015

Quieting the No's

Justina Kochansky

London, UK

March 2015

Quieting the No's

My sense of creativity has been in a fallow period. Lots of changes, including an international move, were more of a drain than I'd realized and my “little haters” had jumped into my mental space to have a field day. “Not good enough, been done before, etc, etc.” All the “No's” that every artist faces seemed much louder and easy distractions proved to be more seductive. I knew something had to change, but my attempts at forcing discipline weren't working and only seemed to make me more depressed about the whole thing.

I'd been encouraged to apply to the Rensing Center before, but had never really given it serious thought; “Oh, I'm not a good enough artist, I'd just waste their time,” said the little haters. This year, however, I'd decided to really try to find my footing again, so I went for it. And here I am.

And boy is it helping!

I'm not usually one for rituals, but I found the Shred, Walk, Create exercise inspiring. (If you don't know it, keep reading the blog. Not only will you find out the details, you'll encounter some lovely stories!) It's a simple exercise, but surprisingly effective. My little haters are still there (they always will be) but I have a decisive reply to them now: “No, I've shredded that.” Since then, I've felt more able to work with the images that have been sitting quietly in the background, waiting their turn. Having time to focus in the beautiful, peaceful space is just the sort of nurturing environment I've needed, and for the first time in what feels like years I'm looking forward to playing with my ideas.

- J Kochansky

kochansky.org

P.S.  I first encountered the term "Little Haters" from Jay Smooth.  His video so well encapsulates the cycle I find myself in, that I recommend a viewing.

Looking backward, moving forward

Ann Mansolino

Concord, California

February- March 2015

Looking backward, moving forward

It's difficult to believe that my four weeks here are nearly over. The time has gone by so quickly -- which seems strange in a way, given that the experience in many ways has been about slowing down, finding peace, and making art from a place of internal and external quiet. How can such an experience speed past me? How can a slow pace feel like it's gone quickly? It seems impossible, but maybe when creativity is flowing at its own pace, when one's activities connect with a sense of place and the rhythm of time there, the passage of time isn't as conscious, as labored, as it seems in normal life. In light of that, who would want to return to normal life?

Despite being a photographer, I've spent much of this residency working with book projects. In the last couple of weeks, I've built on the first object I made here, which I posted images of earlier -- the book that was a house. I've now created a second one, tall and winding, twisting upward, toward some idea of home. It's made from pages from an old manual for building houses. Perfect.

I also created another book using plastic animals and pages from an old dictionary. I love the way the lion moves through the book (or the book moves through the lion), and the way the structure of the book allows the animal to double back on itself, to follow itself round in circles:

I've enjoyed transforming existing books into new objects, and approaching bookbinding more playfully, experimentally, and sculpturally. The time and space to explore new ways of making that differ from my usual processes has been valuable.

And now I pack up -- all this art and more (yes, there is more... too much to show in a blog post) -- and prepare to move onward. I'm tremendously grateful for the opportunity to be here, to have been here. Every once in a great long while, you find exactly what you need -- and the quiet time to work on art, to rethink my own creative process, and to spend time in nature has been exactly what I needed... and didn't know I needed until I was here.  I will try to take that peaceful immersion in creativity with me when I go, and to continue what has begun here, wherever I might find myself in the future. 

-- Ann Mansolino

www.annmansolino.com