In Loving Memory of Patsy… The Bust
I’m working on the bust of Patsy separately. By doing this I can get much closer and spend a considerable amount of time on it. I love the photos that Howard gave me. I don’t think there is one angle that I am missing; it is great to have such good reference material. Patsy feels friendly from the moment I put my hands in the clay. This is not the case with all sculptures; often it takes some time to get used to the sculpture.
The clay that I use for the sculpture is a waxed base clay and must be heated up in a crock pot. The armature of the bust is wire and foam. Carefully I put the clay on this armature. The clay is extremely hot and it causes terrible burns if I am not careful.
I keep looking and comparing the photos of Patsy.
In Loving Memory Of Patsy… Be Patient
While away at college in Vermont at the end of April. I was anxious to get home and work on Patsy. In my study of the process, I must say I am not sure what I read into this process to help me do it, and what is really happening. Several nights I said, right out loud, “Not now, be patient, I’ll get to sculpting soon.” I am not sure if I was telling Patsy or myself. However, since then I have had a second commission that has come about. Lucas was 5 when he drowned in the pool at his day care. As soon as his mother called and she began talking to me about Lucas and doing a sculpture of him, I felt an immediate connection to him. I have not seen any pictures of him however, I can feel him, and kind of see him in my head. I need to get Patsy further along before I can think about sculpting Lucas. I had noticed in the past that when I try to work on more than one person at a time, unless they are siblings, their personalities, spirits or whatever seem to get all mixed up in the clay. I don’t know how to define it, I don’t even know if anyone else notices. But I do!
The funny thing is I feel that same urging that I felt from Patsy about getting going on with the sculpture however, there are some differences. Instead of a nudging or a reminding, as I felt with the Patsy sculpture, there is this feeling of “Come play with me, please.” Once again, this may be what I read into the sculpture to be able to do it, and not anything mystical or psychic or of that nature. I just know that with that sort of pleading from Lucas it is hard to ignore.
In Loving Memory of Patsy… Talking to Patsy?
During this process of sculpting I saturate myself with everything that is Patsy. One day while soaking in the tub I was thinking about the pictures and found myself talking to Patsy. I didn’t even realize I did this, and had I not been doing this study along with the sculpture I would never have known that I do. “Your boys are wonderful they have grown into such incredible men.” I said, not even realizing. I looked around the bathroom and thought, “I must be crazy.” However, after taking some time to reflect on what I was doing I couldn’t help myself. I thought of the pictures of Patsy with her grandchildren and I kept talking. “It must be wonderful to be a grandmother,” I said.
In Loving Memory of Patsy… How do I do this?
I think the most profound thing that is coming from the in-depth study of posthumous portraiture, is that I have had to ask myself the question, “Am I communicating with the deceased?” It sounds too eerie, too strange, and too off the wall, but as I am taking a closer look at the entire thing, I believe something is happening. I spoke to my mother about this subject. I really trust her judgement, and she is not only my physical mother but a spiritual mother as well. She believes that The Holy Spirit inspires me to do what I do. Either way, I know it brings healing. There is often healing of family members through the process of posthumous sculpture.
In Loving Memory of Patsy… The Pose
I spoke to Howard, Patsy’s husband, and asked him for as many photographs of Patsy as possible. These photographs are necessary for me to obtain a likeness of Patsy, but more than that, sometimes I think I can “feel” Patsy through these photographs. I have been trying to pay close attention to this study and the sculpting of Patsy. I search for who she is in everything. Howard brought by Patsy’s shoes and dress. This is an incredible thing for me to sculpt from. On my first day in the studio, before beginning to sculpt, I sat alone with Patsy’s dress and shoes, and I thought a lot about her. There are several of the photographs that Howard has given to me of Patsy that when I look at them they just really get to me.
If you are a friend or family member of Patsy and can post comments and feelings about Patsy, I would greatly appreciate it. If they are personal, please e-mail them to me and put “Patsy comments” in the subject line. All of these comments help me to know Patsy better.
Patsy, My Newest Project
I am utilizing my studies at Vermont College and incorporating this semester’s work into my newest projects. One of which, is the lifesize bronze sculpture of Patsy. I have decided to take a very close look at how I create posthumous portraiture. People always say that my sculptures are so life-like and have such spirit to them. It is easy to say how I do that with those who I have met and come to know, but in this study I am not only going to document the process of sculpting, but I am also going to take a very intimate look at how I do this sort of thing. How do I capture the sprit of a person I have never met? How do I capture the spirit of the deceased? Why do I love doing posthumous portraits? What are the psychological aspects of this type of work for both my client and myself? As I journal the process, I am intending to make it a book, “In Loving Memory of… Capturing the Spirit of the Deceased, a Sculptor’s Journey.”
If you are following the sculpture of Patsy, you will quickly be able to find posts that are about the sculpture. They will start with, “In loving memory of Patsy…” You can also search Patsy in the categories.
A Perpetual Learner
As if my life is not full enough, I am also back into school. At my age, who would have thought? It feels strange but very natural, and I would not have been able to do it were it not for the residency program at Vermont College Union Institute. (As of 2020, Vermont College does not exist as it did in 2005. Goddard College however has the same program.) It also feels good to be stimulating my brain. The college utilizes what I am doing in my art as a part of my curriculum. So other than reading and documenting my progress, which I do already, I don’t really have a tremendous amount of work. I don’t necessarily need the degree; I just want to add it to my list of accomplishments. I have; however, entertained the idea of teaching art or writing at a college level, and as one college said, “I can see you are a master artist, but do you have a masters degree?” And like anything else, I’m blogging about my adventures of returning back to school, at my age. If you are interested check out the Perpetual Learner blog.
I have written two articles about going back to school. The first, “Returning to College” was in the March 2005 issue of the Houston Tribune. And, “Past and Future in the Green Mountain State” was in the May 2005 issue of the Houston Tribune.
Distractions
I have a few projects in the studio; however, I am terribly distracted by the building of a new art studio. After over 16 years of working at 1048 West 25th street, my art studio is being torn down. It is sad to see it go, as it has been a part of my inspiration and artistic growth, as well as containing an incredible amount of memories. I wrote about it in the April issue of the Houston Tribune 2005, “Life is Full of change”
It is; however, time for a change. We have decided to build a new studio, which has all of its own ways of distracting and diverting my attention. We expect to be moved in the first of July.
Welcome to Creative Endeavors
I am thrilled to finally have this blog in place and to have it working on my server. I so enjoyed sharing the creative process of the Newsboy sculpture created for the Texas Press Association and intended for the state capitol in Austin.
I had wanted to have a regular newsletter, I hope to get that going. Or, if you would like, you can come back to this blog regularly. It has; however, been a huge task to keep a journal or newsletter in html and archive it myself. When I was introduced to blogging I was sure this would solve the problem. Thanks for your patience in waiting for this creative endeavor.
Please feel free to comment and add suggestions.
Bridgette
(This entire website has been updated and this blog has been updated three times since this launch in 2005. When it was begun “blogs” didn’t even exist. I’m delighted I still have these posts and remembrance of a career and a life. Thanks for reading. )
Past And A Future in the Green Mountain State
Houston Tribune
May 2005
Bridgette Mongeon © 2005
I just came out of the science lab, one of the only two places that I can e-mail things here on the campus of Vermont College of Union Institute & University. Walking up to my dorm building at Dewey Hall I watched a half a dozen people outside, playing music talking and smoking cigarettes. These students are not your typical eighteen to twenty year olds. No, in fact they are students of all ages. The door to the dorm hall seems to be in perpetual motion. Someone is always coming or going. I can hardly believe I’m forty-four years old and having a college experience. I’m on my first intensive week residency in a very progressive sort of program. In this program at Vermont College of Union Institute each learner picks a faculty member to work with. The learner also picks what they want to learn. Ah, what a wonderful idea for education. Tap into the passion of a person, give them guidance and watch them grow. I know the program sounds new and inventive, but this program has been around for almost forty years.
If the program in itself isn’t stimulating enough, there are all these learners (students) around me that are so impassioned with this past semester projects that they will present throughout the week. I am a newbie, one of only three new people, trying to make my way through the maze of buildings and schedules. I’ll stay here for a week; design a program of study, according to the program is dubbed” twenty-forty-twenty. I have to spend twenty hours a week, write forty papers through the semester and read twenty books as a part of my project. Luckily I’m using my sculpting work as my project, so the actual work won’t take any additional time away from my life. And I’m journaling most of my projects on my web site as well, so I am hoping that will work into the writing portion of the program.
This week I will also watch a hand full of people from this incredible program culminate. I can’t help but envision my own graduation eighteen months from now.
My future is in Vermont, but it is not my only ties to this wonderful “Green Mountain State.” In fact it is amazing that of all places I would choose to go to school I would end up here.
When I was little girl, every year in the spring, usually around Easter my parents would take the long drive to Vermont. Our first leg of the journey was 300 miles from my hometown in Buffalo, New York to Troy, New York where we would spend time at my aunt Bea’s. I loved aunt Bea’s. The meandering creek held my attention for hours. The large pine tree in the neighbors yard held the biggest pinecones I had ever seen.
From Troy, New York Mom and Dad would load us all up into the car and head off for the additional 150 miles to Vermont to see Meme (French for grandmother) and Pepe (French for grandfather). The trip from Troy, New York to Burlington Vermont always held the special attraction of visiting the maple syrup manufacturer. I only remember really getting the grand tour once. When you are six years old watching how the maple syrup is tapped from the trees, poured into huge steaming vats and turned into sweet syrup seemed like magic. As a family ritual, on each of our Vermont trips we always stopped at the maple syrup manufacturers gift shop. Each child, my brother, my sister and myself were allowed to get one thing from the shop. I always bought the same thing- a small rectangular package that contained an entire maple syrup sugar candy family. The joyful family stood glistening at attention under the cellophane wrapper. I watched my brother and sister devour their candies. If I was lucky mom would have bought a small package of maple syrup candy pressed into the shapes of maple leaves and I could taste that sweet sensation, which was preferred by me over moms favorite gift shop item -peanut brittle. I would however leave my little candy family intact for as long as possible, sometimes even the entire trip. They were much too special to eat.
Meme’s house smelled like old people. The thing I remember the most about it was her walk-in pantry. A room filled with cabinets with glass doors that contained canned food of all sorts of pretty colors. I would sit at the table and color in my coloring book while I watched the women bustle about. Every now and then someone would ask Meme, “Where is the…” and this was always followed by Meme’s comment, “… in the pantry.” I would look around the kitchen and though it was a nice size I wonder how my father and his twelve brothers and sisters could all eat at the same time in the same small room.
I thought that when I grew up Vermont would be just a memory, but a few years ago I began to research my family Genealogy. Until six months ago my search ended in all places –Wanooski, Vermont. In my own search I could not get past the five generation that ended in Wanooski. Then upon opening an e-mail that had a subject line that read …Mongeon genealogy, I was able to put all the pieces together. Or should I say a distant cousin was able to put them together. He sent me an old photo and the research that he had done. My great, great, great grandfather was in the bottom row; his was in the top row. This photo was of the generation that came to the United States, to Vermont. The sender of the e-mail gave me the rest of the genealogy all the way back to the sixteenth-century in France.
There seems to be quite a few things in my past that link me to Vermont. Who would have thought my future would be linked there as well. Here I sit in Vermont typing this article at my dorm room at Vermont College of Union Institute. I decided on this college less than two months ago. I know it will be a lot of work, but I am thrilled to be here.
It is hard to believe that at forty-four years of age I am sitting in a dorm room, away from home and in eighteen months after three more residencies, I hope to be graduating. Even though it has been over thirty years since I have been here as a child it still feels familiar. Not only is my past and my roots touching deep within Vermont history, but as the college experiences prompts me to reach higher than I have ever tried to before, this lovely state of Vermont also holds my future.
Bridgette Mongeon is a writer artist and now student of Vermont College of Union Institute. She works and studies in her Houston home.
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