I read a quote by Eleanor Roosevelt a few days ago – “I think, at a child’s birth, if a mother could ask a fairy godmother to endow it with the most useful gift, that gift would be curiosity.”

Following my curiosities is an ongoing practice.  I often stop short from  digging deeper or trusting the journey.  This story serves as a reminder that following my curiosities can have unexpected results.

In an earlier post, I showed you some metal letters that I discovered and loved because of their nice metal patina and well, that they are letters.  When I inquired at the shop, I found out that they are used on utility poles. I’ve never really paid attention to utility poles unless I saw a lost cat or dog posting.  Curious though, I went home and did some research on why they are hammered to the poles in the first place. I found, they are serial numbers used to inventory the pole and keep track of its inspection, treatment and age.  Why is this important?  Well I guess poles fall and hit people so they need to be properly maintained.  And knowing their original purpose informs my work.  Something perhaps about identity, age or even strength.

aluminum utility pole letters

Although I usually like buying vintage things for my art, there were only a few letters from the alphabet in the shops inventory.  After some research online I found a manufacturer still making them in Minnesota.  I requested a few samples and soon received a package with an enclosed letter from the owner.

I was touched that someone would take the time to write such a personal letter.  We chatted on the phone and he shared with me that he loves art and is a writing a book.  After brainstorming a few ideas, he offered to send me a care package of letters for free. It was his way of contributing to the arts.  All he requested was that I send him a photo of whatever I create.  The first piece I completed is titled, Letting Go of the Words.  There will be more. Sometimes these things have to just sit for awhile.

Marilyn Stevens, Letting Go of the Words, 2009

Marilyn Stevens, Letting Go of the Words (detail), 2009

Is there a significant person in your life who has influenced or stimulated your thinking and attitudes about your work?

In my life, it was my grandmother on my mother’s side, Elizabeth Fleming, born in 1886 in a small town in Nebraska and who died at the age of 86. She continues to guide my point of view through her most notable attributes, a steady calm, love for fashion, independence, encouraging voice and rock star solitaire skills.(Ok, so I didn’t pick up any card playing skills)  A story that I often reflect on today is a milliner business that my grandmother and four women friends started in 1907, a rarity among women in those days.  My grandmother, age 21 is pictured below, second from right.

Uncovering some wonderful vintage hat forms, I immediately thought here’s one for the ladies.  A recent piece titled, Still Here features nine hat forms, each adorned with a line from a poem done in collaboration with my friend and poet, Zac Stafford. The words are stenciled, hand-wrapped in pewter and nailed on to each form.

Marilyn Stevens, Still Here, 2007

Marilyn Stevens, Still Here (detail)

An earlier mixed media pieces honors my grandmother’s natural talents and some of my fondest memories—sewing, playing cards, fashion and her undying support for my future. The white circles are a nod to the white powered donuts she served daily when I stopped on my way home from school. If you look closely you can see the old fashion hair pins. My grandmother didn’t continue long in the hat business but I do remember her being the best dressed woman in church, never without  a great looking hat.

Marilyn Stevens, Living History, 2003

My mother, the family archivist passed on many wonderful artifacts from my grandmother including  two depression era aprons.  You could see the grease stains, worn edges and holes, an indicator of much more labor intensive and difficult times.   I wanted to give them new life and dignity. One apron piece titled, Dwell in Possibility is based on a poem from Emily Dickinson.  It speaks to survival, uncertainty yet always remaining hopeful.  The second apron, I Am Not Done With My Changes, draws on an inner strength that gives purpose and meaning to ones life.

Marilyn Stevens, Dwell In Possibility, 2004

Marilyn Stevens, Not Done With My Changes, 2004

My favorite place to find inspiring materials is Hunt & Gather, a unique antique shop located in South Minneapolis. They really offer a wide selection of eclectic, unusual antique merchandise.  I love any kind of handwritten text, letters and fashion related items.  I never know when I might use them but they often push an idea forward or inspire something new.

An exhibition at the Minneapolis Walker Art Center featured one of my favorite artists, Kiki Smith.  A bronze piece titled Cells—The Moon, captured my attention as it reminded me of antique doilies.

Kiki Smith, Cells--The Moon, 1996

A year later, going through a box of my mom’s stuff I found an assortment of old doilies. I’m told that at one time doilies were considered so important that young women were expected to have at least ten ready for marriage, carefully stored in a hope chest. Quizzing my single, 87 year old aunt about this she exclaimed, “that must have been where I went wrong.”

Doilies have family stories, history and at one time, had usefulness. I wanted to honor previous generations of women and give their lost craft a fresh perspective. Creating a piece that that I deemed interesting, worthy and meaningful was my vision.  My ambitious plan was to sculpt a female torso out of doilies however to accomplish this, I needed more doilies.  A few calls to my over eighty year old friends and family and soon doilies started arriving in recycled envelopes and plastic baggies. I laughed at one delivery which had a special request, ” if you don’t use these, I want them back.”

Marilyn Stevens, Doily Armour, 2009