Photo by Jim Lockridge (?)
As I sit here today to write, I’m looking out the window at a lovely Vermont April snow storm. I spent an hour shoveling what I call, “snowman snow.” Luckily, I used a kind of snow scoop / plow for a shovel and it wasn’t all that bad. Plus, I wasn’t required to drive to my gym for exercise today, so that’s always a plus. Anytime I am able to reclaim time in my day it makes me feel happy because I get to do things like write to you all!
Today we’re going to forge ahead with my story (beginning here). When I left you last time, I had decided to switch my college major. So let's get going….
Questions Answered
Where did your artistic journey begin? (Part 9 - Tragedy and Fine metals)
The summer of 1992 was pretty interesting for me. Not having a job for about a year, I was a little nervous about trying to find a job as part of my agreement with my father. I had moved into my apartment with 3 other guys, two I knew and 1 who was a friend of one of the other guys. I was the only one who wasn’t 21 yet. My father gave me a small grace period to find a job. The desire to fulfill my end of the bargain was reasonably strong, for a 20 year old. So I began looking for a job. I thought I wanted a job at a bookstore, even though I had changed my major.
Every visit to a bookstore to ask if they were hiring became a disappointment. Admittedly, I was not dressed like a bookworm. (Is that possible? What does a bookworm look like?) I had that long hair and regularly wore cargo pants, mostly German Field pants purchased from a store called, Old Gold. Oh, and I believe I was still wearing jungle boots regularly, if not all the time. I didn’t exactly fit the “type” that I believe many bookstores wanted for their ambiance.
Then one day I ran into a former high school classmate,Troi, on Church Street in downtown Burlington. (Church Street is an open pedestrian mall in Burlington, VT.)
Troi was two years ahead of me at my high school and had been a part of the band of misfits I had joined up with at some point during my high school years. She was a bit sarcastic but pretty adventurous in her own observant way.
She told me about waitressing at a local restaurant and lounge called Nectar’s. She suggested that I attempt to get a job there cooking.
Ugh. Cooking.
While I sort of enjoyed making burgers and fries at 242 Main, I recalled how much constant cleaning there was to do. Always.
It didn't seem like something I wanted to do.
As I spent a lot of time hanging out on Church St, while giving it my best effort to resolve my unemployment dilemma, I ran into Troi pretty often. She would either ask if I had done anything about Nectar’s yet, or give me other reasons I would like it.
Eventually, I went “down” to Nectar’s to see if I could get a job. Mostly because I didn’t have much money and my father would remind me that I would need money for books, food, and utilities, as my deadline to take care of all that was quickly approaching.
Nectar. Nectar Rorris. Nectar Rorris of Nectar’s
He’s on the cover of a Phish album. Phish played there early in their musical careers. Some say it’s where they got their start.
Nectar was a fairly short, roundish, Greek man with dark, curly-ish hair. He was fairly shrewd and had a big heart. He was often seen serving “gravy-fries” out a window that opened directly from the cafeteria-style front kitchen onto the sidewalk on Main St. in Burlington, VT.
So, after hemming and hawing and much deliberation, I decided to walk down to Nectar’s and talk to him.
Nectar spoke with me briefly, upon learning that Troi had told me to come see about a job there. Then he set a time and date for me to come back and speak with him at length. I went home feeling a bit nervous and made sure to put a note to myself where I could see it.
I went back and Nectar interviewed me for about 15 or 20 minutes before he asked me if I could come back in another day and time. I told him that would be fine, assuming he was just very busy and needed to ask some further questions. So I went back to my apartment and made another note for myself.
This cycle repeated itself three times.
At some point many years later, in my 30s, I realized that he wasn’t actually very interested in asking me anymore questions, but instead had been testing me to see if I would be consistently reliable.
For the next four years I would sling gravy, roast turkey, make gravy, cook and serve people’s food, as well as hand boxes of fries and gravy out the front window to hungry high school students and drunk college kids. It was a lot of work. It was also a lot of fun. It was a lot of gravy.
So, I had accomplished one mission. I had a job and could pay for my food, my portion of the apartment utility bills, and to pay for my books. My food expenses were kept down quite a bit, as I almost always managed to eat one really solid meal at Nectar’s everyday I worked, and as I had worked in a health food store at the end of high school, I managed to avoid eating fries every day and instead stuck to freshly roasted turkey. Most of the time.
As summer wound down and the beginning of my Junior year started, I began thinking about signing up for classes. At some point I thought it would be a good thing to go meet with Frank so see what he might recommend for art classes.
Eventually, I did go try to meet with him. It’s a bit of a blur, as I wasn’t prepared for what was to come next.
I remember knocking on the door of Frank’s office to no avail, when another art student a year ahead of me, told me, “uhm, Franks not here.”
He then explained that Frank had passed away over the summer.
My memories of what happened after that are a bit blurry. I definitely experienced some shock, for sure. I was pretty lost at that point. I wasn’t exactly sure who my advisor was at that point.
I do remember meeting with Ted Lyman, who as it turned out, was going to be my advisor. (He was my Film and Video professor from the year before.) We discussed my options, given that Frank was no longer alive and I wouldn’t be able to study more drawing or painting under his tutelage. Maybe I was feeling insecure at the time, maybe I was just in shock and needed to fall back on a few things that I had some limited experience with in order to feel more grounded. I’m not really sure, and as a result of everything, I ended up picking ceramics, black and white photography and fine metals.
Fine metals was the one art form that was completely new to me.
A professor, Laurie Peters, only taught fine metals in the fall and I had a natural tendency to be drawn toward working three dimensionally as well as “playing” with fire. It seemed like a natural fit and didn’t require that I didn’t excel at illustration. I had previously hoped to learn from a master to really learn and improve my drawing skills.
Laurie Peters was a no-nonsense type of professor. She had very clear expectations and was always open to helping us work through our ideas and translating them into the world of fine metals, which included copper, silver, gold, nickel, and brass. She also made it very clear on day one that her classes were not jewelry classes. Instead, she would reiterate multiple times, she was going to teach us many techniques for working with metal, not how to make jewelry. In fact, she wouldn’t even allow us to make jewelry in class, or for projects assigned to us, with a few minor exceptions for our study in lost wax casting.
After a few weeks of her class, I was hooked.
Looking back on it now, I see quite clearly that I wasn’t necessarily a gifted metal worker. There were several students who really seemed to have natural talent working with metal. I did pretty well though. Well enough to get solid grades in her class. Well enough that I continued to study with her each fall until I graduated. I even extended my college studies and worked with the Dean of the College of Arts and Sciences in addition to the Art Department Head to get special permission to study with her at the “200 level” because UVM didn’t offer an advanced version of Fine Metals when I was there.
So my third year at UVM began. Knocked off balance and feeling very unsure of my direction now. Thankfully, I chose art classes which helped build on my strengths of creating three dimensional objects. Come to think of it now, I probably would have made a decent auto mechanic.
Next time, I’ll talk more about the specifics of my final two years at UVM, access to some old interesting books in the UVM library, and how it culminated in my first attempt to create a small silver jewelry business.
News of late
- I just heard that my first batch of silver engraved designs is ready for me to pick up (YAY!)
- I’m now only working on my business 2-3 days per week (and a few nights) and spending a few days working as a seasonal part time employee in the nursery at a local garden center. It’s been a lot of fun so far and I get to be outside a fair amount. (I definitely need to wear more sunblock!)
- I’m working on getting a completed amulet added to my store
- Doing some planning to help maximize my efforts on the days I have to make products
In the Works
- Helping repair an anklet alongside a Generator maker space member
- Making time to pick up my engraved sterling silver
- Exploring print on demand options which I can add to my online store for people who might like my designs just want something like a tee-shirt
- Continuing work on digitizing more of my “celtic” knot designs
- I cast a new amulet to replace one that was sold (also YAY) and hope to complete that next week
- Preparing to try my first attempt at sand casting, though it might be a few weeks before I am able to get to that
Until next time,
Justin