"Tree, Stone, Eye" | Student Images from Taos
Before I left for Taos to teach the opening classes at the Mabel Dodge Luhan House, I was pushing against the inertia of our long, long sequester. I felt the uncertainty that had grown in many of us about going into the world. I felt the reluctance to move. The poem below made me smile:
My head was heavy, heavy;
so was the atmosphere.
I had to ask two times
before my hand would scratch my ear.
I thought I should be out
and doing! The grass, for one thing,
needed mowing.
— from “Inertia,” a poem by Jane Kenyon
Now I have returned from a few weeks in New Mexico, teaching the classes that had been postponed for almost two years. We were the only ones at the retreat, and the classes were small. The landscape was beautiful, christened with desert showers and new blooming flowers. Everyone had been through something significant in our long period of sequester. There was rejoicing — the fresh newness of being together in a room. This rejoicing was helped along by spectacular food, made by our chef, Sophia, and her team — and good wine.
I began, as always, with the conviction that each student who shows up has a particular gift, and is in class to enliven and strengthen that gift — the seed they were given at birth. Everyone is born with a gift. I believe, and am privileged to witness, that the making of art for its own sake will “bring into realization the self most centrally yours” (William Stafford).
The land was our focus: tree, stone, eye. We experimented with color, drawing and writing haiku:
The boxes for the books were made from Arches black cover paper:
The exploration of tree led to a study of leaf and blossom:
The richness of Windsor Newton indigo watercolor that we used in my online classes was also popular in this class:
More book pages, using a limited palette, writing with a shell, collage, writing with balsa wood:
Below are images of the boxes made for the books:
Students range from new beginners to advanced makers. You can see why I return to William Stafford talking to his students: “My job is not to praise or blame, but in the end, to be envious of your work.”
Have you kept your maker’s hands alive? I’d love to hear from you and see your work. Please leave a comment below or post an image to Instragram using the hashtag #asilverfraction. Please tag me: @lauriedoctor