Unfinished Projects

The Unfinished Projects Club was the creation of my good friend, Becky Koladis. I suppose that when she dreamed it up, she knew I needed it as much as she did. As an artist, I am constantly finding myself intrigued by the latest and greatest project. While this keeps me constantly creating, it also causes my older crafts to get tossed on a shelf or buried in a drawer. Mosaics get all of my attention until the warmer weather of spring hits. Then, I hear my garden beckoning me and quickly exchange the piles of broken plates for a handful of dirt and a packet of seeds.

So, the Unfinished Projects Club provides a crafting haven, a place to pull out those neglected creations and get them finished once and for all. My half-painted garden table is one of the many objects that I started with enthusiasm but then abandoned after several months. The incomplete crocheted doggie sweater for Taco is another. In the year to come, as I invite friends and fans to join me on the third Saturday of every month, I look forward to achieving completion.
I’d love to hear about some of the amazing things that you’ve found laying at the bottom of a drawer or stuffed at the back of your closet. May our little club be an encouragement to you to find the excitement in those projects once again.

Humbled

Every time I experience one of the big honors or tributes of my career, I find it to be a thrilling experience. But, more than anything, I always come away from these occasions truly humbled. This weekend’s sculpture unveiling at The Shops at Evergreen Walk was just such an experience. Seeing so many people from my hometown was incredibly rewarding and having the mayor and several important town leaders speak at the dedication ceremony was honoring. However, it was listening to the stories of my fans and seeing the long, snaking stream of people waiting in line to speak to me that was humbling. As I signed pieces, people offered the stories of who they’ve given “Fanciful Flights” to. So often I hear how my artwork is used to celebrate new life, memorialize a loved one, or reflect a friendship. These stories touch my heart.

Perhaps this blog is an extension of my love of hearing these stories. Even though I am new to the entire blogging experience, I am finding myself amazed that such an abstract medium as the Internet has the power to bring a sense of friendship and connection to people who may live on opposite sides of the earth (Seeing a comment from an Australian fan really made this idea hit home). I find it wonderfully ironic that computers, with their cold, mechanical appearances, can actually bring about a homey feeling of closeness. So, as I share the details of my days with you, I look forward to your stories making their way back to me as well.

Evolution

At 49, I feel like I am halfway through the adventure of this life (I hope), and it is a wonderful time to reflect on accomplishments and look towards bigger and better opportunities. Life has gone the way it has simply because I stayed in the game. It wasn’t even always about whether I tried to make anything happen or not. I’ve just followed the lesson that was instilled from deep family values - try to do whatever you do as best you can.

My parents bought the house where we lived forever when I was just one-year old. 1957. It was surrounded by Tobacco fields, which later switched to corn, potatoes, eventually to Christmas trees, and some back to Tobacco. It was quiet; there were only 10 houses on our street and I was left to my own devices at an early age. My parents were very creative. My mom had even grown up next to Alexander Calder, and she had great stories about playing circus and making jewelry at her neighbor's house. She was a real Yankee. My Dad was Northern Italian - not just Italian but Northern. We didn't understand what any of that meant back then. And it didn't matter. My mom made meatloaf; my grandmother was a human tortellini machine. We were poor, especially when my father started his own specialty welding business in our garage. They tried to make us take foodstamps but my mom wouldn't use them.

I always wanted to make things. When I was about 8, I set out to make doll furniture. Through the winter, I had watched my dad building us chairs and desks from scrap wood. I planned and planned, hoarded my scraps over a period of time, drew the lines on my wood and turned the jigsaw on. My parents flew to the scene in the garage, spoiling my opportunity to build. They said they would do it if I needed something, but told me that the thing I wanted to do couldn't be done. They just wouldn't listen to reason, and I was banned from the tools. I was a girl.

As time went on, I became hopelessly addicted to painting and drawing. Out from the influence of high school, where I was the apple of my drawing and painting teacher's eye, I started to work three dimensionally. Sooner or later I learned about metal, and that was it. My parents’ business had grown incrementally, and there was some undesirable but free space to work in at the Welding Shop.

But now I’ll fast forward….to November 6th. I have a major 25-foot piece being unveiled at an upscale shopping mall in South Windsor, CT (my home town). More commissions are underway. My little ambassadors called Short Stories (in my original work), Fanciful Flights when licensed by Silvestri, and now Dazzling Damselles licensed by Roman, are for sale at Target. They hit the shelves on October 30th. 90,000 of them. Many years in the making….it is a milestone of a week.