2′ 0″ h, 10.5″ dia.
Existence or experience beyond the normal or physical level.
Inspired by a wood sculpture I created around 2003 named Passages Into the Void.
Countless, seemingly endless hours. And then…the magical moment…the good stuff.
Like Passages Into the Void [close-up at right], now and then, through enormous effort, perseverance and patience, a sculpture emerges, materializes, manifests itself. Goes beyond what was, and opens a realm of new possibilities. But I have this bizarre sensation that, in spite of all the work, and at times agony, when it is done and I look at it, I shake my head. Where did you come from? How did you get here? To know it is beautiful, and important, and would not exist without me. And, yet, it is detached from me. It is instantly its own entity.
Our language is simply inadequate to express or capture the mysterious realm I dissolve into where these wonderful things come into being.
Transcendence gnawed at me for years. After the seemingly endless, torturous hours spent creating Passages into the Void, I knew that trying to capture that feel in glass would be overwhelming. Transcendence took countless hours and effort that spanned nearly four years. The sculpture began to take shape during the 2018 six-week Artist in Residency I accepted at Buffalo Creek Art Center in Nevada. It was an honor to be invited. I felt I should use my time in that beautiful and different environment to create something new. To explore a different direction. And this was the piece that called to me. I roughed out the foundation at Buffalo Creek, but it took me another year back home to finalize the design and perfect the flow. The piece was cast in glass at the foundry, but the surface was miserably pock marked and rough. Strange things can happen during the casting process. In spite of all the art and science that is applied, mysterious gremlins can muck up the works.
The grinding, filing and hand sanding was torturous and seemed unending. But then, like the decades I worked with wood, there came that magical moment when I put down my tools, applied the final sealer, stood back, and absorbed the color and the beauty that had finally emerged.
That’s the good stuff! That’s what makes the effort and agony melt away.