The Art of Recycling

A few folks have asked to see some of my art….

I put this out there with trepidation…you know... the sensitive-artist-soul-crap….

I’m nowhere near as good an artist as so many here on OS. Nor do I claim to be. But I have been fortunate that I’ve done several public art pieces and do quite a bit of custom work.

So what the hell…. here goes…

I take what others might consider junk and create art. (At least that’s what I call it.)  I figure it’s keeping crap (I mean objects d’art) out of the landfills; my materials costs are low; people take my classes because they, too, want to learn the “Art of Recycling”; hell, folks even pay me to come show ‘em a PowerPoint presentation on how they, too, can make stuff with junk. (And I’m damn funny doin’ it.) But here’s the great part…I am inspired by this junk! I see an old table at a garage sale and immediately know what I want to glue on it! I "see" a rebirth.

I do mosaics with old dishes, broken glass, buttons, found objects, jewelry, and occasionally... real tile. I’m a garage sale / flea market junkie.

I also make garden art out of hypertufa (man-made fake rock).

I’ve been "creating" all my life, but my "real jobs" were in the corporate and/or non-profit worlds. I NEVER considered myself an artist. But I actually started teaching classes about 6 years ago and one thing led to the other. Now…no more consulting gigs, no more corporate BS, no more backstabbing, no more asshole bosses. And most importantly, less responsibility in my own home. My caretaker mode, of over 20 years, came to end with Momma’s passing and the grown kid and precious grandbaby finally moved out.

I became an “artist”. I declare it now. After reading “The Artists Way” and working through stupid childhood regressions from my parents’ lack of encouragement. After realizing folks were not too keen on hiring a woman of maturity, with way too much experience. After marrying another artist that has been a constant source of encouragement. After selling those first few pieces to happy customers.

I am an ARTIST!

Not a great one. But my stuff makes most folks smile. What more could I want? Well, that’s a stupid question. I want to be a rich and famous artist. Just as soon as Martha Stewart keels over, maybe there will be a vacancy for the new breed…a redneck-martha version. That’s me. I am so ready for my own show on HGTV.

I’ve learned that art is what an artist declares it to be. It is creation from one’s mind. Beware; my mind is just not quite right. I blame corporate America and George Bush. Perhaps the fact that my cornbread is a tad doughy in the middle has served to my advantage. I’d like to believe that. Hell, I DO believe that. Folks buy my stuff. They even commission me to make ‘em stuff. And the critics (thankfully, there has only been a few) just didn’t have a sense of humor. 

So here’s a sampling of a crazy ole’ southern lady’s “art.” Please excuse the lack of quality in the pics. Lousy camera. Notice I blame the camera, not the one behind it. ;-D