LeftFieldFolk

Crafting was always something others did. I couldn't draw - the closest I got to creating visual art was stick figures for games like Pictionary, and my teammates could never figure out what those sticks were supposed to be. I had never taken an art or crafting course. Then, after working for decades in a task-oriented corporate world, building a life as a capable, headstrong woman, I was attacked from left field. A barrage of physical ailments led to retirement and a very different life. The abrupt switch to no schedules and few resources stunned me. In what felt like the blink of an eye, I was living an alien life.

One day I accompanied a friend to a craft store. A display caught my eye, a book about making stuffed animals. I looked at it and walked away three times, because buying it would be a luxury I couldn't afford. On the fourth look, I decided to buy it anyway, and that decision saved me. In those first months of this new life, I found that my creativity didn’t need sleep or a composed mind. Making stuffed animals calmed me. They didn’t want perfection, only whatever I could give them to draw out their unique personalities.

My art now extends far beyond stuffed animals. Eight years after buying that book, I continue to create for a few reasons. One is that I'm compelled...if you imagined a thing, and the picture in your head made you smile, wouldn't you want to make it? That's what I do most of the day, almost every day. Second, the loss of the life I had in the past left me feeling like I'd lost myself. Creating art gives me back an identity I'd sorely missed. Lastly, living on disability means counting every penny, so any money I make is a blessing.

I create whimsy…appeal that puts a smile on the faces of people who know that fanciful objects can also be stylish, who are drawn to color and texture, who see artistry in using everyday objects in unusual and fascinating ways. Made almost entirely from natural and repurposed materials, this is my way of embracing a lifelong fondness for innovative thinking (a.k.a. “from left field” or “out of the box”) and that feels good. No more peering around corners to gauge the audience, and there are few rewards better than spontaneous delights.

Do you like lateral thinking puzzles? If so, chances are you embrace ideas from Left Field too.

I work out of my living room. My home is not a conventional one. It's set up according to two needs: keeping as many materials as possible within arm's reach, and storing lots of stuff. One result is that I no longer have a dining room and second bedroom; those extraneous spaces are now for storage and woodwork. If you were to walk into my living room (please cover your eyes if you're a neat freak) you would see 5-8 different projects going on at once.

Here's how it happens: I get an idea, either straight from the noggin or sparked by something I see. To begin, I peruse my humungous collection of fabric, paper, hardware, frames, and left-over parts of whatever, most given to me by friends who learned long ago to think twice before throwing anything away. I seldom shop, but when I do, it's in thrift shops and is a slow process because I look at every item from a different angle; its original purpose is irrelevant because I'm seeing what it might be. When I have chosen the first material, I start. You may think it's an easy slide from there. Maybe if I were a planner, but I'm not. I move ahead with my first inclination eagerly...it's so much fun! At some point, though, I stop because either I have to think about what direction to take next, or I've run into an obstacle that hadn't raised its annoying head in my first, rapturous vision of this creation.

An example: One piece I make is Curly Willow Lamps - a small log with Curly Willow branches intertwined vertically around the top rim of the log, with a low-watt bulb in the center. They're great night lights or decorative accents - cool shadows through the branches. On the first one, I loved hot-gluing the branches, delicately weaving them to form just the right balance of density and space. Stepping back to admire it all, I realized I hadn't installed the light fixture yet. I was left to gingerly drill a hole through the base with the lamp on its side because I couldn't stand it on the branch ends. Even laying it on its side, pressing on the delicate branches, was risky. And the opening of the circle created by the branches on top was small...small enough I barely could fit my hand through to screw in the bulb. Welcome - you have just met me.

Thank you for taking a look at, and reading about, my brainchildren.

Cindy