Animal visits are always a special occurance around here (or anywhere).
While I do not feel particularly honored by the continual visits of the mouse who likes to nibble my occassional precious avocadoes, and who laid waste to my bag of Eno Mill-ground grits...(they must love that place!), I do feel honored by the visits of a few other interlopers.
Most notably was a black snake a couple years ago, who I found hanging out in my second story downtown studio/flat. While I was absolutely thrilled to watch her slither around my tires, and hoped she would stay, I must say, that for several days of saying "Here Inky, here girl", I kept thinking "there's Inky", when in fact she'd gone away.
Here in the Reptire Design Studio, just about everything looks like a slithering black snake!
So most recently, I have been visited, increasingly, by a family of house wren.
Over the last year, I have seen one come in through the tiny opening in the window screen. S/he would sort bob and flit about the studio space, seemingly in panic, not able to find his/her way out.
Now, I have watched house wren's before (they are the subject of a drawing "Wes's Nest", please see my graphic arts blog by clicking the lizard graphic at the top right of this page). And one thing that I know about them is that they are very smart and clever.
So I decided early on that I was not going to get all worked up, and spend a precious work day fruitlessly chasing the thing around studio, stirring us both into a frenzy. Instead, I was going to remain cool, and let him figure it out. "You know what" I said "you guys are smart, you found your way in here, you can find your way out."
(I'm a busy body too!). And sure enough, after about 10 minutes of darting around, he was gone!
I must admit, I felt pretty smug about my cool approach.
Well, funny thing, this started happening on a regular basis. I didn't mind, I liked watching him dart around, lighting gracefully on different ledges and edges, and his escape time seemed to be clocking down. I might find the occasional white spot on a tire sculpture, but this seemed like a small price to pay (say a nickel) for this intriguing companion.
Well, needless to say, before I knew it, 'they' were coming everyday, carriying odd bits in their beaks, and soon enough I discovered a small nest buried behind a tire purse maquette sitting on top of the giant box/window fan. An odd place to build a nest, as that thing is a giant churning beast, which I can barely hear myself Think over. However, I am reminded that as a baby, my parents used to call me T-Bird, as they could only get me to go sleep over the rhythmic din of a car engine, or washing machine. So maybe there was some strategy in this young couples choice...though their babies might grow up kinda wierd...(drummers?) we'll see.
So added to the Concerto of this fan's low churning chello, is an almost perpetual picalo chorus of peeping wren chicks. Add to that the piercing violin stabs of the wrens in their darting flight, who seem to take turns, diving out the second story window, to return only minutes later with a fresh spider dangling limply from their beaks, which they hop, sticatto like over to the nest.
It never ends! (I'm sure that's how they are feeling too!).
Of course, one of the greatest benefits of hosting a wren family in my studio, is that I get to watch this liting on my sculpture.
It is always such a treat for an artist to see anyone interacting innocently with your sculpture, particularly in an unexpected way. I am reminded of a Tiresphere that I made for a local Boxing Gym in Siler City several years ago. Don Cabellero has since returned to Mexico, but the sculpture still hangs proudly in the large store front window.) I offered to retrieve it once from the Tienda that the store has since become, but the new owner defended emphatically "No, its mine!". From it, he dangles odd knick nacks,- key chains, tiny stuffed animals- eagles actually. So be it! Always gives me a smile to walk by.
SO, long way of saying, that I derive supreme pleasure in watching this little guy, lighting on my scluptures. I will catch him poised on the gracefully curving bow of a hanging tire sphere, or hopping along the edge of by bamboo booth display. It is just magnifiscent to see his tiny frame interacting with these forms in this way, his nimble reptilian toes, curled around the edges of an arching tire.
All the while he is chattering away. While I can't quite make out what he is saying, its sounds something like, "My studio, My studio, Hey! He He He" repeat, al dente, ad nauseum.
Oh really? Inky might have something to say about that...
While I do not feel particularly honored by the continual visits of the mouse who likes to nibble my occassional precious avocadoes, and who laid waste to my bag of Eno Mill-ground grits...(they must love that place!), I do feel honored by the visits of a few other interlopers.
Most notably was a black snake a couple years ago, who I found hanging out in my second story downtown studio/flat. While I was absolutely thrilled to watch her slither around my tires, and hoped she would stay, I must say, that for several days of saying "Here Inky, here girl", I kept thinking "there's Inky", when in fact she'd gone away.
Here in the Reptire Design Studio, just about everything looks like a slithering black snake!
So most recently, I have been visited, increasingly, by a family of house wren.
Over the last year, I have seen one come in through the tiny opening in the window screen. S/he would sort bob and flit about the studio space, seemingly in panic, not able to find his/her way out.
Now, I have watched house wren's before (they are the subject of a drawing "Wes's Nest", please see my graphic arts blog by clicking the lizard graphic at the top right of this page). And one thing that I know about them is that they are very smart and clever.
So I decided early on that I was not going to get all worked up, and spend a precious work day fruitlessly chasing the thing around studio, stirring us both into a frenzy. Instead, I was going to remain cool, and let him figure it out. "You know what" I said "you guys are smart, you found your way in here, you can find your way out."
(I'm a busy body too!). And sure enough, after about 10 minutes of darting around, he was gone!
I must admit, I felt pretty smug about my cool approach.
Well, funny thing, this started happening on a regular basis. I didn't mind, I liked watching him dart around, lighting gracefully on different ledges and edges, and his escape time seemed to be clocking down. I might find the occasional white spot on a tire sculpture, but this seemed like a small price to pay (say a nickel) for this intriguing companion.
Well, needless to say, before I knew it, 'they' were coming everyday, carriying odd bits in their beaks, and soon enough I discovered a small nest buried behind a tire purse maquette sitting on top of the giant box/window fan. An odd place to build a nest, as that thing is a giant churning beast, which I can barely hear myself Think over. However, I am reminded that as a baby, my parents used to call me T-Bird, as they could only get me to go sleep over the rhythmic din of a car engine, or washing machine. So maybe there was some strategy in this young couples choice...though their babies might grow up kinda wierd...(drummers?) we'll see.
So added to the Concerto of this fan's low churning chello, is an almost perpetual picalo chorus of peeping wren chicks. Add to that the piercing violin stabs of the wrens in their darting flight, who seem to take turns, diving out the second story window, to return only minutes later with a fresh spider dangling limply from their beaks, which they hop, sticatto like over to the nest.
It never ends! (I'm sure that's how they are feeling too!).
Of course, one of the greatest benefits of hosting a wren family in my studio, is that I get to watch this liting on my sculpture.
It is always such a treat for an artist to see anyone interacting innocently with your sculpture, particularly in an unexpected way. I am reminded of a Tiresphere that I made for a local Boxing Gym in Siler City several years ago. Don Cabellero has since returned to Mexico, but the sculpture still hangs proudly in the large store front window.) I offered to retrieve it once from the Tienda that the store has since become, but the new owner defended emphatically "No, its mine!". From it, he dangles odd knick nacks,- key chains, tiny stuffed animals- eagles actually. So be it! Always gives me a smile to walk by.
SO, long way of saying, that I derive supreme pleasure in watching this little guy, lighting on my scluptures. I will catch him poised on the gracefully curving bow of a hanging tire sphere, or hopping along the edge of by bamboo booth display. It is just magnifiscent to see his tiny frame interacting with these forms in this way, his nimble reptilian toes, curled around the edges of an arching tire.
All the while he is chattering away. While I can't quite make out what he is saying, its sounds something like, "My studio, My studio, Hey! He He He" repeat, al dente, ad nauseum.
Oh really? Inky might have something to say about that...
