by Kelly
Borsheim
There's just something about stone. It has beauty, solidity,
and strength. It communicates timelessness, probably because of the
lengthy time-span of its own creation. Even before I knew I wanted to be
an artist, I was in awe of stone sculpture. When I finally started
sculpting in stone in 1997, I wasn't sure I would like it. Compared to
clay, creating a shape in stone seemed to take forever. I do not consider
myself a patient person. I was also a little nervous about it since I
did not know if I could see things in just the subtractive sense. Stone
carving removes the medium; one wrong blow and my sculpture might be a
total loss.
However, when I began to polish my first stone sculpture, My
Little Woman, I remembered why I fell in love with stone.
Rubbing my hands on the soft alabaster after each successive sanding
with finer and finer papers was incredibly therapeutic. [Although I
still love the polishing of stone, after creating some larger works, I
decided I didn't need that much therapy!]
Michelangelo claimed that he was simply the servant or tool that
removed the part of the stone that was not the sculpture. Perhaps he
really thought that. I do not think so. Stone sculpture is a
collaboration between stone and sculptor. I live with the rocks
for a long time before I see the shapes emerge. I study the patterns in
the rock and the shape of the stone. Yet I do not doubt that another
person would see something different in the same stone. What I think
about, what I believe, how I feel, and who I am help to shape what I am
likely to see in the stone. Stone has its own personality. So do I. Working with the stone to shape it, for me,
is a humbling, yet totally thrilling experience.
Many of the pages of the individual sculptures will include some
text and images of the work as it was being created. Thank you for
visiting.
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