Layers
When I choose pieces I refinish, It is a '“Coup de Coeur”: recognition of a potential treasure. I often find my treasures in the garbage, rejected by people who have too much or don’t know what they have. In my basement, I have two beautiful antique chairs for the dining room, vestiges of a previous century - the 19th, not the 20th. They are stacked under a small child’s chair, and a child’s rocking chair missing parts of its canning seat.
Although I have had these pieces for some time, I start working my latest find: a small half moon table, discovered in a garage sale in Coteau du Lac. It is an easy project, and I have a specific spot for it. The other projects are much more complex, as they require repairs.
Outside in the fall sunshine, i am alone with my work and whatever insights come to me. This is why I love this work. It is meditative. Absorbed in the process, this work is simple and delicate at the same time. I must apply enough pressure to remove the old damaged finish, without denting the wood under the paint and varnish.
As I patiently remove layers of varnish, the wood reveals itself. The top is pale ash and the legs are solid oak. It’s not an antique, the underside is made of pressed wood. But the elegantly curved legs and the delicate relief adorning the back of the table deserve to be appreciated as they were made. After removing the varnish and cleaning the wood, I will simply oil it so it’s natural beauty can shine.
As I work, it occurs to me that this work is not so different from what I am learning about my other art work. When I began painting, six years ago, I was taken with the natural world all around me. I connected with the cyclical nature of the the elements, especially trees. I painted the river, the sky, the trees and the rocks that populate my semi-rural environment. I marvelled at the play of light and shadow in the snow, in the melting ice breaking up in the spring, I wrote my démarche artistique based on this work.
Since retiring from teaching three years ago, I have dedicated the bulk of my time to creating art. My work reflects this investment. It has evolved. From landscapes to microcosms of natural elements, my work has become increasingly abstract. But there is something new I notice in what is emerging. My fascination with cycles now includes insight into the layers of processes that are part of these cycles. I still observe the natural world around me, but I notice its connection to the manmade elements that often frame it. I am aware of human intrusion. Humans try to corral nature to serve their purposes, but somehow, never succeed in taming the wild. We inhabit our environment only to the extent that the natural world allows us.
My eye is drawn to the layers of life evolving around me. I am called to reveal what lives behind the surface of what we initially perceive. My craft and my art are guided by patient observation, applying just the right amount of pressure, intent on revealing what lies beneath.