Archive for the Apprentice Category

Art lesson 101

Posted in Alberto Replanski, Apprentice, Art, Artists, Sculpture, Story, The Path with tags , on April 22, 2010 by Erikakw

Alberto said that people talk without saying much. As I perused twitter last night, it seemed so. Sometimes I wish we lived in a world where there were more pictures and less words.

Words produce noise, noise gets in the way of seeing and hearing. Many days I only want to meet with silence.

Alberto listened to people, he listened to empty talk and words that seemed full of promise. It was best to wait and see what words would reveal of a person, whether they were interested in art, the value of it, interested in what he was saying in his work.

To the individual artist what matters is; that people give us a chance to speak through our art. When we give time to listen we are demonstrating our interest and intention. When we demonstrate our interest and intention we are giving importance to a person’s story thereby acknowledging that there is value and meaning to their existence.


A Liger’s Tale, v. Rhea’s footnote

Posted in Animals, Apprentice, Cats, Chronos, Genetics, Metallurgy, The Path with tags , , , on January 12, 2010 by Erikakw

“Another day was rolling out before her [Kiera]. She faced it with the same giddy determination that she always had, even if it meant being callow~coming down a little more heavily on the side of immaturity. Scatty, kind, heedless, carefree; informal, flaky yet, responsible, in control of, at the helm, accountable and answerable, sweet, gullible, honest, overtrusting and dupable she journeyed head on into the hour after midnight expecting that an hour would feel like a thousand years.”~Rhea Phoenix


Posted in 21st century, Alchemy, Apprentice, Art, Artists, Chronos, Dance, Kairos, Living, quotidian, Sculpture, Steveston, Story, The Path, Wild Flower with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on December 8, 2009 by Erikakw

“Me…. I live for imagination in my dreaming. I’m looking to re-generate my imagination to use it for Good for people, for community, for telling stories, because I have to.  Mixing and matching and mashing, collaging my way to the end, that’s my thing. That’s re-generation how the rest happens is mystery–Rhea Phoenix for salonunidad

Observations on the perils and rewards of ARTMAKING

Posted in 21st century, Apprentice, Art, Artists, La amistad, Steveston, The Wild with tags , , , , , , on November 22, 2009 by Erikakw

“Control, apparently, is not the answer. People who need certainty in their lives are less likely to make art that is risky, subversive, complicated, iffy, suggestive or spontaneous. What’s really needed is nothing more that a broad sense of what you are looking for, some strategy for how to find it, and an overriding willingness to embrace mistakes and surprises along the way.

Simply put, making art is chancy — it doesn’t mix well with predictability. Uncertainty is the essential, inevitable and all-pervasive companion to your desire to make art. And tolerance for uncertainty is the prerequisite to succeeding.”

From Art and Fear, David Bayles & Ted Orland

A Liger’s Tale, XVIII. The Timeline

Posted in Alchemy, Apprentice, Artists, Chronos, Industry, Kairos, Metallurgy, Story, The Path, Trade with tags , , , , , on October 31, 2009 by Erikakw

It was not until much later that Kiera began her journey to seek out the one who would begin to teach her. She knew there had to be a place where she could learn so she left home. Her will drove her out onto the streets of Livan-drea, led by its current which was like a live wire under her skin. She could no longer stop the force of it or hold it back. Many have said over time that,

‘when the student is ready the master will appear’.

In and out of small grottos, up and down stairs, through entry ways and exits where long corridors were lit with dim light and filled with fumes, Kiera walked. Today the foundry was quiet yet it’s drone echoed deep within her. Before she stepped inside she stood on the banks of Livan-drea’s central mount and looked down the River south to see the outline of the foundry. It’s smoke stacks clear, the sleeping giant loomed large and did not recede into the background. It came ever forward while Mt Kab-ir formed a stunning backdrop of layers of frozen snow and ice with its pinnacle reaching just 1000 lengths above the foundry’s peak. Kiera’s insides warmed as she took in the black-gray patina of the foundry, even from this distance she could see the glints of copper and today the sun caught the jeweled windows framed by the impossibly intricate wrought iron work. The rust had formed so beautifully over the years on the those frames, she thought.

Turning North she walked not far to find a undistinguished building, surrounded by the trappings of the trade of the metal workers she climbed the steep stairs to the third floor where a door was propped half open. Patiently looking, she came across a character that welcomed her warmly.Was it that she knew him already, she thought?

“I know the purpose of his stride, I could have sworn that I saw him in the alley the other day. With the coming and going of many vehicles I remember a settling occurring. That is the moment when he morphed from animal to man. The settling must have happened in between the impossibly small walkway of the north path between structures. No, that cannot be right….why would he take such as risk….?” Kiera mused.

Gathering her confidence and putting timidity aside in the moment she extended herself to him. Hmv, the man had long since left the quarry and turned to designing monuments and entry ways executing each project with mathematical precision—his work set apart a building or a street corner. All day he was happy to assemble and deconstruct and then re-construct models and maquettes, his accent and countenance intrigued her and while listening she saw in him an earnestness that she had not encountered in Livan-drea for some time. Integrity was about him and determination to pass on his knowledge to anyone who would agree to be his apprentice. His kindness and bright humour caught Kiera and it was from this moment she recollected in hindsight that the relentless passage of listening to the River beneath the River welled up within her.

Within a succinct period of time there was a transaction that easily occurred. The formalization of an agreement between them that would be mutually beneficial for both. She was enthralled and he delighted. She began her apprentice listening to him for 39 days. Sitting by his side she watched the gestures of his hands as his eyes welled up with passion the lines in his face deepened, he spoke in two languages and revealed his Timeline.

Kiera wanted nothing else than to listen and watch endlessly day in and out. She often hurried through her morning disciplines in order to arrive earlier each day at his side. Compelling stories of events that dated backwards and forwards of time travel infused with rejection, loss, greed, indifference and betrayal. Kiera noted beginning and ending successes that stood as bookends holding the Timeline in its precarious place.

“I will act now and not remain silent any longer I will tell a story, a Timeline….I will whisper, and inscribe your words to me for myself first and then for any one else who is fit to hear them….”Kiera decided.

A Liger’s Tale by Erika Koenig is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 2.5 Canada License.
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Posted in 21st century, Alchemy, Apprentice, Art, Chronos, Industry, Kairos, La amistad, Lara Croft, Living, Metallurgy, Poetry, Steveston, Story, The Compound, The Fraser River, The Path, Trade, Writing with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 22, 2009 by Erikakw

metal-sculpture-mccullagh.orgmetal scratch inside my head

I want only to go to bed

anger the rivulet into

the River
up and out of me

I seek to exhume you

balance is balance is starting

beginning again
over and over always forever

if you clamp down control

on a vice it will treat you

not very nice

you will want to stay inside a cave and spend your day having a shave

the mirror will be your best friend all said and done in the end—you see the dragon beast is real and he’ll do all and evrything to steal

fear mongers come out to play

the best way to deal is look and stay acknowledge the bugger is real straight in the eye face it trace it keep circling back

remember: you learned to ride when you were only five keep doing the shaky wobbly later today you’ll be upright on two wheels

better yet one

after you have afternoon tea and cookies you will see feel touch noticeable relief it will be ‘cuz you stood still then refused to back down

your spine column will be there you’ll have come home to yourself

and no one else


Posted in 21st century, Alchemy, Apprentice, Art, Artists, Industry, La amistad, Metallurgy, Steveston, Story, Trade with tags , , , , , , , , , , , , on September 21, 2009 by Erikakw

Out into the light the spots were black popping here and there.

I lifted my mask and got that ring around the head feeling. My hair pulled from the strap and I kept adjusting it while scratching my scalp. I felt fun, dirty, dangerous and neato.

Sparks ordinarily flew to the floor where the oil puddles had congealed long ago and were next to impossible to suck up. Sawdust or cat litter maybe would do the trick, and then I could figure out the way to lift up that poison. Solvent would evaporate in the saw chips so I would throw it in there any chance I had. Into a large metal trash container that in the middle of winter doubled as a fire pit.

As I practiced the lines I took extra care to slow down which is hard for me ‘cuz I seem to like to go quickly especially when I am excited. You see, I have a lot of energy and it needs to be channeled into lines or fillets, not the fish but the shape. Like I was taught, I went back 5 times over it. I mean I kept checking my work and even though it was tedium all I could think of was titanium.

Watching Tom pick up and weld without effort was like magic for me. I marveled at how all the guys were so comfortable with their tools. I had a slim hope that one day I would be too, not afraid of the arc or the spark and no longer silly about the heat. Gone were the days of being afraid to light the barbecue. Now I was lighting bigger and better things and it was a groovy feeling.

Once I knew a man who had the strength of patience like the steel he welded. He was a kind of master at slowing down. He worked with razors to perfect a surface he was capable of creating a flawless sheen. He worked alone and he liked it that way. He was able to sand like no one else and clear coat a finish to its end. He was very good at his trade, I told him so and then he felt happy and went home.

It’s been a little while now and I’m happy wondering if this is going to take me to fantastic places like public art or building scaffolding as high as the CN Tower! Imagination is good for soaring and at the arc of my inspiration the sound of the fire and heat met my desire and I danced, it was sweet.

On the flip side of it I figure I am a fool for such things. I will have to take every precaution to be safe and the only way I want to learn this trade is school. The shop guys will give me tips I wouldn’t learn in school but all the other stuff will have to be learned there. I beg myself to ask the question: why would you want to risk so much?

As I pondered my fate in this environ I took stock of the needed considerations, and let me tell you there are many. Upside and down the other side, I guess I was doomed to writing all the pros and cons +’s and -‘s on a long sheet of paper.

So I began. Wishing I had the patience of the man I once knew I took off my mask and walked out into the light and it was there that I decided who and what I would become.

Thanks to Hawksley Workman for ‘arc of my inspiration’
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