barn raising, sage praising...

i love sage.

so much it hurts.

but we’ll get to that later in the post…. just mentioning it in the title got me all distracted.

what i was really intending to begin saying was… that i got to witness (and be a minor, minuscule part of) a desert-style barn raising last week.  it was awesome.

john has been wanting to build a quonset hut on his property for years.  nora has been wanting john to build a quonset hut even more than john himself, so that he can move his “car collection” out of the garage (slash, her studio).  he does have a pretty gnarly rack of cars, which includes both a monster truck as well as a first-generation prius.  but he also wants to build the structure to serve as a studio space of all sorts, as well as a general man cave (which in john’s world means yarn storage and slacklines alongside giant power tools). 

well, you won’t be surprised to learn that john is just as stylish and manly with a toolbelt as he is with a crochet needle. 

hands on his hips, with a silver sparkly belt tied round the waist of his carharts….  john was commanding the concrete slab like he does the stage as Johnny Victor the rock n roll legend.

my mom had made a short visit (we had an epic time, which included getting her on some rock in the park!!), so i missed out on the first two days of teamwork and sore muscles.  but i managed to show up on day three, just in time to bolt together a number of loops, which now await hoisting onto the scaffold.  much more enjoyable than my meager attempt at helping, was watching the scene, observing the intricacies and complexities of building what would seem like a simple structure, and getting to devour nora’s homemade lunch… and fresh baked cookies.  it was treatment like no one (especially those expected to complete manual labor) should be spoiled by!!

john had (to no surprise) rallied a crew of fellow artists, park rangers, long-time desert friends, neighbors, and home depot junkies… who all showed up to pitch in (some more than others).  steve, of course, was helping run ship… and was rushing home to the studio afterwards to spend the evening making tools or special parts to solve the day’s dilemmas.  building a quonset hut is like putting together a 3D puzzle, with pieces that are at once awkwardly rigid, but also long and willowy.  the building goes up loop by loop, with each loop (or strip) consisting of 7 individual and unique sections.  it’s like building a teepee with pickup sticks.  the first few require elaborate holding and aligning, but once you get it close enough to start adding more pieces, the stronger and more stable it becomes.  but that initial alignment can really be the worst.  john and crew managed to get two loops up the first day (pretty damn good), and two more the following.  as i showed up, we worked a whole day on bolting new segments as well as wrestling with the alignment of the 4 existing sections and the specs they were supposed to agree with. 

after three days of what must have been totally exhausting physically and mentally (too bad the weather here just sucks), john had to go back to work, and the initial buzz and rush of the building process was put on hold.  now, between shifts at the park, finding lost hikers and saving lives (and sneaking onto climbing routes), john can grab a helping hand or two and throw up a loop here or there.  slowly it will all come to life.  i hope i get to see it completed before i leave (that’s serious pressure, john…), but if not, i guess i’ll just HAVE to make a trip back immediately to get some photos of the final product, and more importantly, to help set up and test the safety of that slackline.  in fact, don’t you think it might need a monthly safety test?  

shortly after the man cave, i got to visit a homemade house of all different sorts.  do you all remember sam maloof, the badass woodworker?  i wrote about him in a post a while back, when we went into pasadena and saw an exhibit on him at the huntington museum.

well, it’s hard to imagine many people more inspiring.

in fact, i think i mentioned before, he was given a mcarthur genius grant back in 1985 (which made him the first craftsman to ever receive the award).  but no mention of his many accolades, praises, or which presidents owned pieces of his furniture, would do justice to the incredible vision and craftsmanship that his life and work represent.  you can read a pretty wonderful obituary of him here if you wish (he’s truly worth looking up).  he and his wife alfreda lived near claremont, and spent their entire lives creating a home (sam literally designed and built everything by hand), and an identity, a community, rich with artistic influence and a love of humanity. he believed very strongly in simplicity and practicality, and, as i talked about before, the differences and overlaps between art and craftsmanship.  he wanted each of his pieces to vividly remind one of the connection between the material, the creator, and the owner… and thus he refused to ever mass-produce his work (despite the tremendous demand). 

his original home sits atop a beautiful citrus grove. 

did i mention, he built it entirely by hand?  

it is an awe-inspiring wooden maze of treehouse-like rooms, simple but deeply-thoughtful designs, intricate details, joineries, and door latches around every nook.  yes, there is a famous hand-made wooden spiral staircase made out of gorgeous hard wood from old shipping crates, and the whole space is full of exquisite textiles, pottery and collected art of all types.  the LA times article called his home “a living monument to the creative impulse”.  i can’t think of a much better way to describe it.

and it has been officially deemed a national historic landmark.  when california was building the 210 freeway in 1999, slated to run right through his property, they went to the trouble of moving the entire home, piece-by-piece, three miles.  and now they’ve added visitor centers and museum-type buildings.  

there is also a gorgeous maze of botanical gardens surrounding the buildings.  it is in these gardens where they are hosting their first-ever sculpture show, and have invited select artists to display pieces amidst the natural landscaping.  steve was invited to have a piece (actually, two pieces) in the show, and so last sunday, i got to trek down to the property with steve and ruth to scope out the grounds and claim our territory (this was how we also weaseled our way into a private tour of the house – but you’re not allowed to take pictures inside, so you’ll just have to go visit yourself).  to our surprise, many of the other artists had come down the day before, and thus, along the paths through the gardens, most of the key spots already had stakes pounded into the earth with “reserved by an artist” signs.  but also to our surprise (and soon to theirs as well) we somehow managed to get the best damn spot on the whole property!

i kid you not!!

steve is going to put one of his newest kinetics (i think the one we just finished, which i will show you pictures of here at the end) on top of a hillside at the corner of the house.  it’s right in front of the famous “treehouse room”, apparently one of the most photographed spots on the property (and after going in the house, it’s my favorite room by far).  im not sure whether everyone else just assumed that empty, too-perfect pedestal of grass was off-limits, or whether we were the only ones with nerve enough to ask to put a sculpture there… but man, it made me giddy just thinking about it.  the opening is april 29, and i really….. really… want to come back just to see that piece go up, and be there when the first flood of people come through.  the other piece will be the birdhouse (the one whose elaborate construction you saw pictures of), and will go in another perfect spot: where the path stops, encircles a big, good-for-sitting tree, and changes directions as it weaves back though the gardens from where you’ve come.

so dang awesome.

it was also in these gardens where there grew so many types of sage a person could die and go to heaven!  it was one of the best things i’ve smelled…. well shit…  ever, i think.  seriously.  if i could rub a genie and make a wish… i might very well wish that every time i walked into a room, or someone mentioned my name, or someone even just thought of me, they smelled that smell.  gonna have to figure out a way to grow desert sage in my brooklyn windowsills.  and maybe just keep some in my pocket at all times... for those moments when i’m stuck in a hospital lab full of test tubes and about to panic.

anyway, the day was incredible.  and even though i’m joking, it really made me appreciate how lucky i am to have this chapter of my life… this part of my life… to keep me so grounded and alive as i embark on this new one.  just being in that house was such an overwhelming experience, for anyone, but especially for me right now.  it literally made me want to lock myself in a room full of metal and clay and god knows what else for 50 years.  i had so many ideas, and questions, and thoughts, and visions, id never be able to scribble fast enough to capture them all… i felt like my brain was on fire.

i was thinking about it all day, and all evening into the wee hours of morning while i weaved through wooden tables at pappys.  i literally didn’t want to fall asleep when i finally got home, because i didn’t want that feeling to end.

in so many ways, whether they’d admit it or not, steve and ruth are creating a life that is not far at all from what sam and alfreda created.  it’s part of why the experience of being here and living here has been as overwhelming and enveloping as it is.  and it’s part of why i have wanted so badly to share it with you all…. and why i am determined to continue doing so in some form even after i leave here next month.

i wasn't (and still am not) certain about the whole blog-writing thing.  but one thing's for certain.  you all play a huge role in making it what it is... and making the whole experience so much more validating.  could never thank you enough for that.

and on that note…. i’ll leave you with pictures of the newest piece (and one photo from more moonlight climbing in the park!)…


the piece is called solar system.

elk... the tusk... and the week i lost skin on my fingertips

so i’ve realized that the three main activities i’m almost entirely and exclusively engaged in (studio work, climbing, and slinging food and booze at pappy’s) all require not just functional, but strong and agile, use of my hands.

oh, and eating.

obviously.

well, these things all went to hell last weekend when i decided to climb with abandon until the tips of my fingers had lost feeling entirely, and were pooling swollen reserves of blood like miniature oil leaks beneath the skin’s shredded surface.

not to mention last saturday night at pappy’s we had 4 bands play – including brett from the donnas (who’s a popular one around here) – which means that the place was so full of people that getting to one of my tables took 18 times as long as normal.  at least.  this is especially fun when you play the game that i usually do, which involves carrying hot plates without towels just because you feel like dealing with the challenge of getting to the table alive.  this game is not really fun at all and borderline idiotic, but add a room full of pioneertown drinkers, and you’ve really quickly got yourself some burned fingertips and wrists. 

my solution? 

further the abuse.  go climbing.  all day sunday.

(note that this sunday, i am sitting quietly in a coffee shop, typing to you all). 

but don’t pick some of the nice, sunny warm spots in the park... instead, go to an obscure pinnacle in a shaded, wind-tunnel of the park.  it was todd’s idea at least.  so of course i was going along.   the pinnacle is called the tusk, and it was only recently discovered, with 5 different routes bolted up its modest sides.  it was so cold that before i even got on the rock, my hands were completely numb.  and the rock felt like ice.  this quickly turns a 5.8 route into a 5.10, and makes a 5.11 route impossible unless you want to break your fingers off completely.  at least that’s what tucker said, pictured here grinning behind his hoodie, to explain why he wasn’t going to climb at all, and was just going to drink beer.  he refuses to ever climb a route twice, and since he has done more routes in josh than anyone (literally, a fact.  he also has the most in yosemite), he doesn’t have a lot of options left.  the 5.11 route was the only one he hadn’t already bagged, but on this blistery day, it wasn’t going to happen.  so a few of us scaled the other routes, moving as quickly as possible to keep the adrenaline pushing us upwards before we had time to think about the pain in our hands.  actually, the worst part was coming off the rock.  “the thaw” period was enough to make me curse all things human and inhuman for a couple minutes straight…. and then swear i wouldn’t do another route all day.

that is, until 15 minutes had passed and i’d forgotten what the pain had felt like (the beauty of a shitty memory).

to cap off the day, three of us did sneak over to a warm and sunny area in the park and wrestle with what turned out to be three of the coolest routes i’ve done yet.  they looked like nothing special, but forced you to really think… hard… with your body and with your senses, and to be inventive in ways that seemed impossible in the moment, and left you dizzy and grinning when you finished.  i think there was one time i made 5 or 6 moves, multiple feet up and to my left, just in order to get back down where i started with my hands in the opposite orientation.  needless to say, my fingers hurt to the point of near-tears, and on the two harder routes i left a blood trail the entire….. entire… way up.   (thankfully the life/death immediacy of climbing itself trumps my otherwise debilitating tendency to faint at the sight of blood).

but speaking of dizzy and grinning…

on monday night, i had one of the best experiences yet since i’ve been here…

the moon was full.  

i’d been talking about wanting to climb a famous pinnacle in the park, called the headstone (pictured here in daylight, thanks to climbing magazine), under a full moon.  the plan was originally to do it on new years eve, but we only had a piece of the moon, and there was no way i was getting out of my shift at pappy’s.  

photo copyright of michael clark

the next full moon fell on monday.  luckily the wind had died down since the day before, and it was a clear night.  the moon rose big at about 5:45pm, and was gorgeous.  i threw on some layers, grabbed my headlamp, and headed into the park with my friend matt, who had agreed to join (and lead the route).  we waited until the moon was high, parked at a nearby campsite, hiked in, and scrambled up boulders until the silhouette of the headstone rose upwards at our feet.  it was an adrenaline rush just shining my headlamp on it.  we ended up climbing two different routes, up two of the corners… both hanging out over total blackness.  one includes a “handrail” at the end, requiring you to make a few good arm-lunge moves on an overhang without any feet, whole body dangling over the edge.

man… i can’t type words for that feeling.

neither were very difficult routes overall, but being high up on a giant corner, where it drops straight off from either side of you, not to mention being surrounded by full darkness, brought it to a whole different level.  the first time matt rappelled from the top, i stayed a bit longer by myself… staring out over the moonlit park, a couple smoky campfires in the distance, and coyotes howling from the west.  been thinking back on that moment all week.  it took me a good while to snap out of it… but finally i heard matt’s voice from down below, repeating, “alley!!  i said… i’m off!!”  i pulled myself together, rappelled down, and gathered up all my gear for the hike out.

what a way to start out a week.

that, and getting to share a phenomenal meal with steve and ruth, and their friends danny & claudia, last sunday night.  they cooked up elk… yes, elk… brown animal, big antlers, makes bugling sounds….. both a stew and some long ribs done on the grill alongside some clunkier-looking beef ones.  ruth made a BBQ sauce that put pappy’s to serious shame (there was cumin involved), and claudia brought a thin sauce she made out of pomegranates, dried cherries and rosemary.  put rosemary in anything and i’ll get down on my knees, but man, this was an especially perfect match for the hearty, woodsy elk meat.  and it was essentially brown on brown (the best combo).  throw in sautéed bok choy, and asparagus, and turnips, and rosemary grilled yams…and i was grinning from ear to ear.  an old vintage tablecloth and ruth’s homemade dishes made the whole thing too good.  and that was not even counting steve’s margaritas or ruth’s lemon flan!  

sure haven’t had the motivation to cook like that just for myself in the cabin!!  it was a treat, times ten.

and as for the real reason i’m here….. it has certainly been an interesting week in the studio.  we finally finished the hummingbird piece, and got it installed outdoors to see it really come to life against the landscape.  i guess it is technically third generation in steve’s “rising sun” kinetics… the raven piece i loved and posted photos of a while back was the second generation.  and now we’re well into the fourth generation piece.  it has been a much windier road than the first piece…. but i think it’s truly been the beauty (and legitimate thrill) of the artistic process at work.  steve feels very strongly about not wanting to just essentially repeat the same piece over again, even though, in this case, they’ve clearly been a success (these past two “rising sun” pieces have sold just after, or even before, they were finished).  but mass producing, or even just replicating, would take literally all the fun out of the process.  and there would be no fulfillment or satisfaction at all in the end result, if there weren’t a progression in concepts, ideas, and components worked into each piece.

so the question is how to continue along this general theme, how to make a piece that is visually stunning, but also is pushing new boundaries… conceptually, artistically, technically… each time.  observing the progression in pieces (good and bad, intentional and unintentional) from the first one, to the current project, has been totally fascinating.  

this newest piece has had the added challenge of looking way too good when it started.  we have a mast that is….well… it’s badass.  i feel okay saying that… cause it is.  but that means it’s really hard to start with and build off of, because you’re too conscious of the potential to ruin it.  this hesitation, or second guessing, despite taking longer, has actually forced out some really interesting ideas & processes.  there were whole days where we pursued a new and exciting idea, only to scrap it all by the end of the afternoon when we finally saw it in physical form.  i think there were at least 5, going on 8, different ideas for the two stainless forms, when thursday afternoon we strolled into the boneyard and steve stumbled upon a piece (until then it had just been scrap) that not only answered all our questions, but provided brilliant potential for this concept moving forward.

there’s no better definition of process-driven work… and i can’t possibly describe how fulfilling it is to be challenged, to be enthralled, to be constantly learning and constantly surprised every step of the way. 

i fucking love it.

sorry for the language.

and getting to absorb steve’s energy and attitude towards it all is incredible.  there’s always a new idea, there’s always something to work on if one thing’s feeling stuck… and from stunning success to embarrassing mistakes… none of it seems to be a waste of time.   inspiration comes from paying such thoughtful attention to everything in the world around you… whether it be the momentary texture of a landscape, a simple comment quoted in the newspaper, the choice you just made about which tool to use, the choice made 15 years ago about the subject of a painting, an entire lifetime’s achievement (the filmmaker terrence malick has been the subject of numerous conversations lately…. and for good reason), or a single sketch discarded as a failure years ago, but kept.  

a while back steve described his idea to utilize the power of negative space by comparing it to the way an author discusses one thing in depth, in order to actually focus your attention on something else.  he said at the time, “people think i’m crazy when i say it, but i learn from the authors”.  after numerous (but never enough) discussions on the artistic process, the techniques, the beliefs, the different approaches… it couldn’t be a more accurate way to explain how brilliance comes from recognizing the parallels, and allowing a constant awareness, questioning, and participation in one’s self and the world to so vibrantly inform one’s work.