Still from underwater video by Anna Peach, Newfoundland 2007
I had a funny last couple of weeks, trying to get some closure with the spring residency. (It still is spring up here to me...since I am wearing a sweater most days)I decided to participate in an environmental festival which included an art exhibition. I spoke with the director and next thing you know I was told to bring my laptop and screen my unedited (as if they will ever be edited) videos to show along with some of my zoo plankton inspired sculptures to float in midair in the corner. All went well, video charmed even the most cynical environmentalist so it seemed. It was all going so well until I checked the silent auction book and someone actually bought my sculptures...oh no...that wasn't supposed to happen. What were the odds. Yes, I do realize that art does occasionally sell and that is really part of the whole process...but I have to admit that I really loved my portable hanging zoo plankton made from old cork floats and white silk threads. So now to plan B...finding more old cork so to try to replicate the pieces as best as I could for the upcoming show in Honolulu. Ah, life is funny that way. I spent a good part of a week combing the harbor for any trace of cork...something, anything. The first ones were washed under a slipway in Pouch Cove. I was able to find some suitable ones in an antique store, but a lengthy talk by the 86 year old proprietress had me in a panic as it turned into a "good luck sister" sort of talk about the demise of the Spanish cork trees and the historical value of these artifacts that have slipped from use due to scarcity. So I grab up all the decaying bits of dusty cork from the bin in the corner and find myself grateful for anything...
1 comment:
cork floats. my family have a seafaring/beachcombing background so we used to have lots in the cupboard under the stairs (old spiral stairs, so the cupboard went round a corner and only children could easily reach the back). when i asked for them years later mum mother had thrown them out. why must she always do that with great treasures, yet she buys tat from the shops.
i'm imagining your sculpture and that combined feeling of pleasure and pain knowing someone appreciated it enough to buy, but that you have to let it go.
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