“I live in a northern paradise with short sultry summers and achingly bitter and beautiful winters, spring we call “mud season” and fall is a glorious crimson and golden falling into winter. This seasonal cycle functions as my muse and guides my work… In the winter I simmer tea and eucalyptus, spring blooms in my rust garden where I slosh tea and make marks with my ever growing collection of rustie, summer brings warm days and cool indigo blues and in the gold of autumn there is much gathering – calling out the curves of oak, the caramel scent of maple, the saffron arch of ginkgo, as the leaves sing their last songs. Wherever I am, I am in a continuous dialogue with my environment; I wander, gather, arrange and collaborate with natural processes. I explore and experiment as a “domestic scientist”. Meditative play is how I attempt to stay grounded and balanced. This is how I live my art.” —Elizabeth Bunsen
Elizabeth’s studio is like visiting a museum with a docent who is warm, full of knowledge and passionate about the objects. The metal grate was given to her by a friend. The coral is from Australia where she traveled and taught. The wool is from her sister. The rust graveyard keeps growing and is always revealing something knew. Rust and Memories.
Starting tomorrow for the next three days I get to participate in a workshop with Elizabeth and see what kind of “rusty voodoo” she practices. I can’t wait to explore and see what happens. I have a dress that is way too bright and in dire need of some “mucking up”. I will post some pictures of process. Rust and Memories.
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be affected with rust. (I’m pretty sure I’m going to be affected with rust.)“the blades had rusted away“2. deteriorate through neglect or lack of use.
