Building Sculpture/Building Fire

My process of making sculpture is much like building a fire.

Initial inspiration is sparked like flint across steel in a dark space.  Though the spark of light is brief, it can be momentarily blinding.  That glint of blinding light becomes the spark of inspiration which ignites the passion and persistence needed to pursue a work.

After some time pondering this inspiration, a distinctive sculptural plan is configured mentally in the same way the beginning structure of a fire is framed with a plan, but all the while I am instinctively gathering resources from my intuition as I find myself further and deeper in the process.  These intuitive decisions look like both adding to, as well as subtracting from, an idea and object.  As my inspiration grows, the process matures, and the vision of the final work becomes refined.

Layer upon layer, the fire is built through meticulous placements of a cold organic architecture to frame air flow and, therefore, concentrate the potential energy of the soon growing fire.  This preparation looks like gathering the tools and materials expected to be necessary, assembling the team of assistants, and mentally playing out potential scenarios and formal structure developments, yet leaving room for surprise.

Before lighting the fire, additional fuel in the form of handfuls of sticks and twigs are added until the structure has an unspoken sense of presence. This can look differently for each sculpture, whether experimental developments in materials, added members to the team, or unexpected combinations of ideas.

It is now time to strike the flint itself and start the fire. The spark begins the release of the built-up tension.   As the fire builds energy, the work also builds intensity as I am now immersed in the creative process.  The fire is far from complete, but rather the most intense part of the fire has just started.  It is all consuming and presently a space where the most difficult decisions are made. As a sculptor I am balancing tension – careful not to smother the work by allowing fear to cause me to hold back while continuing to build it almost out of control.

For a moment, I enjoy the choreography by dancing in this space with my work.  In this short time, the tension is fully released, and on hard days I find myself looking at broken glass on the floor, but on the special days I find myself rewarded on the good side of this balance of tension between failure and great discovery.

Tending the fire is required until it calms and finds its own perimeter and balance.  Finally, my spirit calms and finds its own quiet balance of having completed a work.  Wood is added as needed, but the fire is done being built.  It is now to warm yourself and gain light.  I am now no longer the maker, but the viewer.

Sometimes a fire is good to enjoy for a long night.  Sometimes, it is just not what you expected, and it is best to go to bed early and let it burn out.

I long to build sculpture full of inspiration and energy as a fire that can rage even in a rainstorm.