Thursday, July 04, 2024

VANCOUVER INTETIONALLY...

We have been planning around a quick trip up to Vancouver, BC... 170 miles north of us, just over the Canadian border.

Conspiring with us is our long & deep friend & god-buddy, Malcolm, who lives in Port Townsend, which is closer, but requires a ferry. It became a complicated dance of four guys living in numerous places on lively schedules! 

We intend to visit another soul mate named Sequoia, who has been creating & reinventing his life due to health. He has just published his autobiography, titled DIVINING DESIRE.

This will be be the virgin crossing using my new passport... renewed after lapsing during Covid-19. It feels good to be traveling wider again! 

We left our condo Friday mid-morning driving I-5 after its very busy rush hour,  to arrive at an acquaintance of Stephen, who allowed us to park our car & meet Malcolm, who'd offered to drive us up in his Tesla. 

Not being a driver anymore, I was happy to retire into the back seat, having a driver... plus a spare! 

Checking into EXchange, our LEED-certified hotel began an interesting experience on many levels. First, because LEED is acronym for Leadership in Energy and Environmental Design, we felt we were honoring our many efforts to be good environmental citizens.  

Next because the building...the old Stock Exchange... hence it's name... is only one of many older buildings in the long bustling urban core of a historic city which preserves its earlier historic street-scape by requiring such buildings to retain at least part of the the original facades. 

We'd been given rather complicated instruction how to park... first for finding the entrance well down a one-way alley with an obviously temporary plywood structure hovering 'round the view as we began descending several steep tight loops, passing ample charging outlets for EV, like the one we are in... comforting & later useful. Then up to the modern building's dizzily wavy-tiled lobby before finding a turn into the original interior elevator lobby with its colorful terracotta-tiled  ceiling, which served only the few floors of the hotel. Finally we found welcome at the reception desk. 'Twas already a minor adventure, clothed as potential predicament.

Malcolm is a builder, so he & I were fascinated with all this mixed architecture. He later discovered a model in the new lobby which helped us understand the project better.

 Our room was fine, except for the wallpaper, printed to mimic or imply something like an detail from a stock certificate[?], but at a scale conjuring mostly sloppy stucco.

I cannot resist sharing Oscar Wilde's quote, often reputably from on his deathbed, as "Either this wallpaper goes or I do.” but what he actually said was, “This wallpaper and I are fighting a duel to the death.

We dressed to meet Sequoia at his apartment, well located 5 floors up from a hillside cul-de-sac above Stanley Park, where he's lived for 20 years. We had fresh vegetable rolls which Malcolm brought from the Chimacum farmer's market he helped create some years ago. I especially appreciated that they'd been garnished from the inside with toasted sesame seeds before being rolled around the filling. Malcolm is entrepreneurial as well as a true farm-foodie!

Sequoia invited us to one of his favorite nearby restaurants & we were seated in a room open to the sky. Our delightful server's name was Miriam... with sparkling Egyptian eyes. 

A lovely reunion in deep camaraderie. We all have long history of sharing many of Soundcliff's fabled Thanksgiving feasts. 

We had packed with the forecast of probable rain, planning to spend the day retreating in the UBC Museum of Anthropology, but easily rejoiced in a glorious Saturday. 

Additionally, it happened to be the re-opening day of the museum's renovation of its renowned architecture, by Arthur Erickson.  Much of its famed glass facade had not been originally built to the architect's design & was found to be vulnerable to seismic failure. That lofty transparent space perfectly housed the collection of tall totem poles originally sited in the First Nations' coastal fishing villages. 



It was explained that the youngsters were learning the traditions in situ...

Canada has wrestled with its indigenous population with more remedial attention, if still too-late, than have we in the US, where they are still usually called "Indians"... The new signage acknowledges a series of navigational, geographic & linguistic errors.  Ah, the hubris of white men, living on in ever-destructive delusions of superiority! "Sad," as one currently visible adherent pretense to great superiority that might say. 

 Stephen & I joined a short tourof the new space, being given by the director of the museum... an erudite well spoken woman who explained the care with which these poles were ceremonially "put to sleep" by members of the First Nations' people to be stored horizontally before the building's glass facade was reconstructed. It was a monumental reworking, including deep rethinking of how the artifacts were re-installed... with new , more properly & precisely written signage all with consultation... plus First Nations ceremony. 

 Watching the dances commemorating the opening, we realized that our timing in this case was not nearly so intentional as quite lucky! 

 I was particularly pleased to be revisiting this art because I had studied its influences I honored when I designed THE NORTHWEST COLLECTION linked here:

 DUCK: https://www.grbbells.com/products/northwest-duck?_pos=1&_psq=duck&_ss=e&_v=1.0   FROG: https://www.grbbells.com/products/nwfro?_pos=1&_psq=frog&_ss=e&_v=1.0                   ORCA; https://www.grbbells.com/search?q=northwest+orca&_pos=3&_psq=orca&_ss=e&_v=1.0

[Somehow, I left our hotel that day without bringing my phone/camera, so I'm pleased that Stephen is allowing me to use his photos to enliven this post.]

This image made by a handy bystander of the four of us in front of a favorite Bill Reid sculpture, portraying the story of the discovery of mankind in a clam shell by Raven. I remember being impressed by this huge cedar wood carving from my first visit to this museum 20+ years agoI still find it magnificent..  The Raven and the First Men can be studied here: https://moa.ubc.ca/wp-content/uploads/2014/08/Sourcebooks-Raven_and_the_First_Men.pdf ;
  
Stephen caught this fine casual portrait of our compadres Malcolm left, Sequoia right... both rapt & wrapped inside the intensity of learning in this treasure trove of history.

I met first met Sequoia at one of his Men In Touch retreats at the Bodhi Manda Zen monastery in New Mexico, in 1999. Stephen & I made plans to meet after separate visits to our families... he in Minnesota, me in Kansas. Both of our fathers were dying.

Sequoia has actively evolved a career from Air Force pilot to massage therapist ever deeper into the nexus of spirituality & sexuality. I have been introduced numerous times & ways into dancing with these concepts in my own life & can vouch for value added, while not feeling much need or capability to expound more here. I can happily refer to his newly published book Divining Desire... Exploring Sacred Eros by Sequoia Thom... I can invite you to read it with me if you are curious.

Sequoia has been diagnosed with stage four cancer but has been living in a remarkable state of health for more than a year, eliciting further appreciation. The reason for our visit to his home in Vancouver was to celebrate another time with him.

The weather returned toward the prediction on Sunday, when we had a brunch at the old hotel in which Stephen had first hoped to find our lodging. The Sylvia Hotel had more of our style, but the kitchen lacked some of the basic skills...like how to properly poach eggs!

As we returned, I appreciated the rather ephemerally embracing sculpture... quickly dissolving,... evaporating visually... all in the few minutes we spent driving through the pleasant woman examining our passports at the border.

Because we had such important time inside friendship, we returned home deeply satisfied. I am grateful that Stephen accepts & loves being ''my driver"!


Thursday, June 20, 2024

Summer Solstice Story... 2024

 
Emerging again from the burning roots of Solstice

MAKER RENEWS 

Feeling accumulated warmth...

  Tasting fecundity in deep rich seasonal air...

 
 
Testing possibilities... 

A new surge of life...

Contemplating a maturation in creativity!




Photo Essay by Mark Milroy & Gordon R Barnett


A friend & neighbor on Vashon Island, Mark Milroy, is a fine photographer. In 2021 he proposed making a shoot of me in the old Big-Leaf Maple which had quite a history hanging-out over our Soundcliff's parking-pad -- offering both dangers and protections inside her delicate cavernous core. He envisioned posing me nude in this tree. 
 
I accepted what was a bit of a challenge. I am not particularly shy... loving hot tubs & bath houses; having a lifetime's history of nude beaches, Faerie Gatherings & skinny tripping with friends in the waters of Oak Creek. I've known innumerable life-drawing sessions with nude models of all genders & I've even modeled in several groups where we exchanged roles as artist & model.

Even-so, this is another sort of "coming out" for me... publishing myself here!






Thursday, May 09, 2024

BLOG DANCE...


I am coming back to my long-familiar history on Blogspot, which I hope will restore a certain richness which I have long appreciated.

While I have become disenchanted with my stint of trying to blog on Shopify, I continue to celebrate Shopify for many other functions. When my computer guru introduced me to Shopify, he put it simply: 

Shopify is about numbers, while 

Blogspot is about words.

I need both!

My business has been happily busy recently, mostly because my faithful associate, Momo, has been regularly active on the various social media platforms we try to keep up with: Facebook,  Instagram, & TikTok. The last one is especially lively... in numerous ways... most of them ever puzzling.  We've had some posts which have gone viral (up to 47,000 hits), but that has not always resulted in sales. We are trying to tease answers about the algorithms, as are many others. 

We were astounded by a run of sales of the Chocolate Lily Earrings, of which Momo had made-up several dozen pairs last year from an abundance of stock when our foundry mistakenly filled an order twice.  We don't often sell earrings, but something mysteriously "clicked" on TikTok & we've been frequently shipping them out...  sometime 4-5 orders a day! We don't know why, but we're not complaining!

The capabilities of Shopify to keep the sales, mailing & inventory functioning in real time are a boon to me; I do not love numbers & the details of bookkeeping. The program keeps track & analyzes sales & information about customers which will be useful to study how the business is faring in various ways. It can do more than I can easily fathom, much less use at present. I'm happy to keep exploring & learning its capabilities.

But Shopify is not so capable of reflecting the style of my communication. I have long taken pride in my blog. It is more than a tool for the business, which is the way Shopify is programed. I suspect I could keep working to finesse it better, but it simply doesn't seem worth it to try to reinvent what Blogspot already does.

I have often quipped that my blog is "the book I will never write." It is a collection of essays about several decades of my history... with photos. It is wildly variable as to quality. I obviously have found myself posting in many moods and manners. It is very personal. That is, I believe, much of its value.

So this flipping of venues is more of my experimental exploration. I say"venueS" because at this point I will probably post & repost back & forth, in order to educate myself more about how they contrast in use.

You may continue to read my blog on both plstforms: https://www.grbbells.com/blogs/blog &/OR: GRBBELLS.COM...

Biz & Personal, Mixed... as usual. Obviously clarity is not my easy path. 

FINE! 

I bumble well.

Monday, February 11, 2019

THE BLOG IS MOVING...

I invite you to join me in celebrating a change-of-address for this blog, which will now become an integral part of the GRB BELLS newly redesigned website... becoming an entirely new way for me to share & market the catalog of bells in addition to the deeper history of my work along with other parts of my story... including this blog of my writing & photography. The simplest path is to use this link: http://www.grbbells.com/blog/ .

You will soon be able to peruse the ever growing material I have begun to sort & prepare from my collections of thousands of old slides & photographs of paintings, jewelery, sculpture & graphic work from my past & which will be shared as archives under the tab labelled "STORY". You may begin now to read about some of the processes which are used to make the bells.

It is exciting to be able to begin building-out this new format, which will allow me to create the "book" many suggest, but which I will probably otherwise never actually write!

While you may continue to use this address to peruse my 14 years of historic blog posts, they will also be posted on the new site.

Thursday, December 27, 2018

HOLIDAY GARDEN [APRES CHRISTMAS] 2018...

 I am digging back into the studio after the holidays, 
as seen with the pile of garden cuttings 
impulsively spray-painted 
silver, for a decorative "arrangement" now languishing 
while I ponder being safely rid of the leavings...
T'won't compost & probably ought not to be burned. 
I did not think that one out very well...
Solstice has long been the heart-fully factual event for us. 
This year we attended a lively party with a large group of
 good friends... Enjoying much fine conversation! 

On our way home we walked the path around a large pond 
where one Islander gifted the night's magic... 
a millennia of flames... luminaria 
flickering harmony with misty light of full moon! 
Then home to our own lamps for a long recuperative sleep!
Thus Christmas was happily celebrated quietly. Just the two of us at home here at Soundcliff... a very rare thing! The first time in many years that we have not been traveling, either to spend time with family... or seeking to avoid any additional rush of festivities after the period when the Island's Studio Tour absorbs so much of the calendar with the hard work of cleaning & preparing for two intense weekends of "showtime"... ringing in, ringing out & ringing up the bells' business!

We've tried escaping to various parts of the Orient, only to discover the universality of Santa & various versions of decorated trees, even if oftentimes they are more entertaining than in this country. So it is probably easiest to just sit tight & ignore the fuss where we have the most control! 

Our weather, while quite wet, has been mild, so the garden has continued to produce & bloom. I picked greens & salads for the meals to which we treated ourselves. Stephen made a big batch of his specialty crab cakes. There was fresh salmon & ahi for the succession of nights... sweet times!
The reliable gift of produce in this season is Mashua, the starch crop I've grown since learning about it at the Mother Garden in Sonoma County, when I lived in northern California 25 years ago. The abundant foliage climbs high all summer, giving its spicy nasturtium zip as addition to salads, but in late autumn it develops happy blossoms, signaling that its roots are making the tubers for which it is generally raised by the Peruvian gardeners who more famously gave us potatoes.
 
These beautiful organic packages of intense flavor can be eaten raw... I like them thin sliced like winter "radishes" to make toothsome crispy zippity-do-da salad nibbles... 
but are more usually served as a cooked vegetable. Sauteed or better roasted, 
both the flavor & texture soften & sweeten rather ephemerally.


 The hexagonal raised bed produced Trout's Back lettuces & Baby Bok Choy...
The Wasabi Arugula blossoms went in the salad to accompany the Ahi well!
Pineapple Sage blossoms color holiday salads festive...
The small Camellia started blooming to add more red to our view.
One stalwart patch of pansies held-on!
 I brought the Abutalon into the studio to protect 
& display its bell-inspiration during the show...
But this fuchsia made a lovely small show 
spiting difficulties from lack of light & temperature.
I've been celebrating the small mountain of cedar sawdust which covers the new hugelkulture Tom helped build during a week of Indian summer... an experiment in re-sculpting the contour of one large section of the garden from "sagging swale" into a more visually sturdy "rib". A long term project!
Reminding the sweet welcome in/out my plane window as we came home from Thanksgiving in Florida. Tahoma is our beautiful mother mountain... we watch her from Soundcliff's windows every day she isn't hiding in the clouds with which she dresses for her constantly evolving fashion!
These Ibis & Pelicans joined us for lunch at a dockside restaurant one afternoon down there...
Reminding me of the sculpture hiding silhouetted behind the mylar sheet we use as a sun shade in our bedroom window... not needed often during this dark time, but useful when we are journaling & reading on rare enough mornings desiring celebration of any such intrusions of light returning!
Early Bird Blessings For this New Year!

Monday, December 24, 2018

AFTER WINTER SOLSTICE - 2018...

Sunrise at Soundcliff on the morning after the longest night...
Greetings on the Winter Solstice of 2018…

Solstice is THE holiday for me. A day as “HOLY” as I can easily accept… being quite real. The physical manifestation of whatever genuine magic keeps the world from tilting totally out of control.

A moment in the rhythmic continuity of everything 
we can really know marks this seasonal symbolic loss of light & of its return. 
All the other festivities of culture begin with this. I could too easily whisper “amen” & be done with the rest. 
But, no, I realize that I can choose better... 

Working inside the wider study & understanding I’ve long practiced I appreciate again that I am not always the same curmudgeon I have sometimes seemed this year. 
I have my moments, teetering on this cusp, of both snarl & smile.

I have been remembering a story which reveals part of the origins of that curmudgeon, from the year of my graduating from college [being summer1967… 50 & more years ago], when I accepted a job to help set-up the first-ever year-round Christmas Shoppe in Denver’s newly developing Larimer Square. 

I was one of a cadre of creatives [read: mostly gay boys] who naturally collected around this project of wrangling Denver’s version of retail rehabilitation by bringing gifts of talent which were essential & appreciated while being un-affordable & thus ultimately under-rewarded in the longer term… An economic fable commonly called “gentrification”…

We began in August, as I recall, to unpack hundreds of cartons containing dozens of artificial trees, upon which we carefully strung hundreds of strings of lights & then hung with thousands of ornaments. 

For some trees there were obvious “themes” or color scenes to follow with some logic, but others invited the invention at which we could excel when given opportunity to play creatively as a fair-or-not part of the pay package. It was, after all, the summer of love... 

The initial Ho-Ho-Ho enthusiasm we brought to work at this new adventure, wearing cut-offs to cope with summer heat in an old historic brick building with no AC, began to drag. Soon enough, the plastic icicles were being hung with matching drips of sweat. The fake snow couldn’t cool anything except one’s sagging ardor. The scent of the holidays became the rank smell of hot glittery paint on cheap wood, hide glue & ageing papier-mâché. What would later seem festive to eager customers had become too early rather icky. 

I thus lost most any love of Christmas as it was becoming, even then, to be celebrated & it took some years until I could think of the holidays without noticing that stink… which, at least symbolically, still returns to my nostrils some years.

So, I have done several versions of these holidays backstage, so to speak, in retail since the small-town department store I worked during high school, through the Ma-and-Pa jewelry store so important to me during college… into the folly of Christmas-in-July.

I deserve my status as part time curmudgeon! 

The anodyne to what I’ve come to see mostly as a madness is this simply magical re-occurrence of a long night of adjustment into proof of sanity. Balance. All has righted itself. Life continues anew. 

I can now rather more easily let all the ancillary feasts carry-on as they might & need. I play with them as I will… or not. I know what is real to me.

Solstice Blessings, 
With Bells... or without even those such trappings…
GRB


Saturday, June 09, 2018

BIRTHING THE MOLDS...


GRB Bells recently participated in our VIVA [Vashon Island Visual Arts] Spring Tour the first two weekends of May. [Our Holiday Tour is the first two full weekends of December.]

As part of the studio's presentation I demonstrate wax injection, one part of the process of the bells' manufacture which I am capable, within the constraints of time, to demonstrate simply. I am thus encouraged to explain here the process of making the mold into which the wax is injected.
Here are the castings made from my original wax carvings for several designs plus their clappers. I call these the "masters" & I securely archive them in order to be able to remake any of the rubber molds which might break or wear out. They are also the best form of copyright, since the molding process will shrink the design slightly & all bells made from them will be smaller. 

You see them sitting upside down on their "sprues", which are the rods which were the channels through which the molten metal entered the temporary plaster mold to make the casting. A bell has at least two pieces -- and the clappers must be made separately, of course.

This group includes The SEAHORSE Bell with its unusually complex, three-piece clapper on the left. [The two bells on the right are the SUFI SURF & the CLOUD PALACE Bells]
This is the raw silicone rubber, which is soft & resembles a dense putty. It comes in strips protected with peel-able plastic on both sides. I cut it to size with scissors & pack it around the master in an aluminum mold frame, with the sprue touching its interior side. At this stage I must begin to think "inside-out" as I work to fill the negative space around the bell with the positive rubber.
When the mold is filled I label it with a thin aluminum or brass tag into which I emboss its name with a stylus. The mold press has two electrically heated platens between which the mold is sandwiched. A heavy screw with a large handle tightens to press it all tight. 
Under that pressure its heat of 350 degrees 
vulcanizes the rubber in about an hour.
The result is a solid block of harder rubber completely enclosing the master, squeezing a slight excess, which insures that all the details of the master have been captured. It shrinks a bit as it cools, freeing itself from the sides of the mold's interior. 
I trim the excess with scissors & peel out the tag, 
leaving the name permanently as part of the mold. 
Next comes the difficult part! I use a scalpel to very carefully cut the block apart to free the master, while also making "keys" to secure the fit when the mold is put back together.
It is fascinatingly puzzling to dance between thinking positively about the negative! It requires bringing the cuts from the bottom of the sprue ever closer to the still invisible master, prying the dense rubber apart with the help of a hook mounted to my desk. It is important to land the cut at the best place on the design to make the mold function well, both to promote the escape of air pushed ahead of the molten wax & for ease of removing the cooled wax.
The mold stretches & wants to snap closed. I must use brute strength of one hand while keeping the other facile enough to aim the blade cutting delicately into narrow-sighted space dancing between positive & negative space...
These photos show the process arrested by being held open with toothpicks... Each piercing in the design must be cut cleanly so as to efficiently re-close, recreating that detail in wax. 
I cut down from around the skirt of the bell to create a core which is pulled from the interior of the master, with another tricky part involving the clapper loop which clings, being filled with rubber in the top of the bell's interior, difficult to reach with the blade. Even with a collection of tricks over years of experience, I often still struggle with this part of the process!

Below you can see that core sitting-up in the center, atop the left & right half of the mold, which shows the positive wax which was injected into it. 
Outside are the halves of the second mold containing the 3 clapper parts.
The wax injector is a heated pot filled with wax under about 5 pounds of air pressure. 
Near-liquid molten wax is injected into the sprue of the mold when pressed against its nozzle, thus engaging the pressure sensitive valve behind it.
 Here is a video of an actual injection:






The result is a wax replication ready to be cast into metal to make the bell I will sell.