Mad Scientess Jane Expat
I went fishing through one of my many plastic tubs of inspiration and memory the other day, searching for some shells to use on my latest triptych of canvases. (Side note: I'm getting close to having a gallery of canvases. Really, there will be about a dozen new pieces to share within the next month, if I can finish them all off.) I found, amongst my collection, the following item, which had been carefully wrapped in tissue paper and placed in the bottom of a tub.
Cleavage & tenacity collection
My grandfather gave this to me when I first began showing an interest in science. I distinctly remember memorizing the rock hardness scales and rock types and wanting to be a geologist. He took me to the annual geological exhibition at the Seattle Science Center several times. We went to the Thunderegg site in Oregon, where there's a deposit of beautiful geodes that you could watch being cracked open and polished. I have no idea when he obtained this particular cardboard concoction, but I suspect that since he brought it with him from the east coast of the US, it must be at least 60 years old.
I'm only beginning to understand the symbiotic appreciation he tried to give me of art and science. It's a shame I can't share it with him because he's been dead for nearly eight years.
I've been working on a piece dedicated to him. It only needs an appropriate frame. It amuses me to think that he'd probably hate it, given his blanket dismissal of abstract art as meritless rubbish. But it says what I want to say about my relationship with him.