Thanks Bob

With Thanksgiving fast upon us I find myself considering the many, many things for which I am thankful.  The list goes on and on, but when I get to my craft, Ming-Kahuna, I can’t help but be reminded of all of the fine people who have inspired me over the years.  These folks, mostly unaware of their contributions, have led me to where I am today.  They have unwittingly helped to shape and mould my work that you see before you.  While there was no one in the very beginning to guide me with the creativity and mechanics of what would become a new craft, since then so many have taught me so much.  Many folks, if only through casual comments, have taught me about the pipe business.  At a time when an artisan selling on his own work was unheard of a few before me forged ahead creating what would become how I do business.  Other artisans have inspired me in the beauty of their artistry as well and the zeal with which they approach their craft.  Collectors have inspired and given me insight into my own work through their comments and suggestions.  Each person who has provided their feedback has shaped my craft and how I approach it, and, there have been so many.

Just as important as recognizing those influences is acknowledging them.  While it might be tempting to claim that one has done it entirely on his own, being a one man island, I would maintain that this stance would have to be less than honest.  We each are the sum total of our experiences, and, unless you live atop the highest mountain so many people touch us in so many different ways.  So, it came to pass that the other day while carving an especially nice little freehand in a new material I took notice of that little voice inside my head that guides me.  It’s almost always there, calming me down, allowing me to remain in the zone, while giving me the permission and freedom necessary to create.  While the thought had never occurred to me before to do so, I began to contemplate who that inner voice belonged to.  It wasn’t long before I had my answer.

Many of you probably recall Bob Ross.  Bob had a very successful show on PBS where he would paint a landscape during the course of the show demonstrating how it was done.  I recall many Saturday afternoons over the years watching Bob paint landscape after landscape, brooks, meadows, forest, mountains and sky.  He made it look easy, and maybe that was the idea so as to give aspiring new artists the courage to try (which is 99% of the battle) and some techniques to begin with.  With his happy go lucky patter, presented in tones not unlike Fred Rogers, the show was a sort of soporific mind candy that lulled one into a certain comfort zone, and, I suppose a certain pliability that may cause one to consider trying their hand at his art.  In essence, the man was a hypnotist.

Svengali aside, Bob Ross has stayed with me all of these years, and has become my inner artistic voice, for another reason.  One thing that Bob always stressed was that there is no right or wrong.  So many times he’d say something like “we’ll just put a little bush right here, or maybe a tree, there’s no reason not to, it’s your painting and you can do what you want, there’s no right or wrong.”  If Bob screwed something up in a painting he’d just change it and do it another way.  While Bob’s techniques were quite definite and well defined, there was absolutely nothing rigid in the ways that he applied them.  He gave himself the freedom to go with the flow.  He didn’t sweat it as he knew that there was always a Plan B available, one that wasn’t necessarily inferior to Plan A, only different.  I think that he implicitly understood that fear of failure can be paralyzing.  By taking the “fear of failure” component out of the equation he gave people the ability to give themselves permission to try.  To me, his attitude, and how he conveyed it, embodied the pure joy of art and the freedom of expression that lies at its very core.

Sadly, Bob Ross passed away in 1995.  And while this will sound rather corny, I have to say that a part of him lives on in me.  He has become my inner artistic voice.  He reminds me that there are no rights and wrongs, just choices and directions.  When one thing isn’t working that inner voice, Bob’s, reminds me that there are other directions to go, options that may be equally attractive that can and often do achieve even better results, and not to sweat it either way.  Bob constantly reminds me that what is being done is being done, first and foremost, for the joy of it.  Bob keeps me from becoming set in my ways so that I can experience the freedom necessary for my craft to remain fresh and new to me after the better part of a decade.  Bob, as my inner voice, is the artistic spirit.

Thanks Bob.  Mission accomplished.

Ming Destiny “Opus”

Nine years ago when I began Ming-Kahuna I kidded with my wife, borrowing from The Godfather with Michael’s promise to Kate, that in five years Ming-Kahuna would be legitimate (art).  Of course, that was only a joke. Ming-Kahuna tampers is my first love, but part of me wanted to take my craft into the mainstream art world.  From that promise, and desire, Ming Destiny was born.

Ming Destiny started out, and for years has been primarily TouchStones, the pocket sculptures.  Then, before my move to Atlanta, full-size sculpting with Diamas (my name for it) clear acrylic began.  Unfortunately, when I moved to Atlanta I lost my ties with the local galleries that were ready to sell Ming Destiny sculptures.  It is important for me to sell my work locally, close to where I’m at, and that now means Atlanta.  As it turns out, as it has all unfolded, I am now less interested in galleries (their percentage is way too high) and more interested in selling at the local art shows, hopefully eventually juried shows.  Shows to me are the best way to make personal contact with customers and patrons, an important aspect that has been key in the success of Ming-Kahuna.  In addition to shows there is the Internet, and to date that has been the contact point for the other Ming Destiny pieces that have sold.  Unfortunately the Internet is far form the best sales medium for selling three-dimensional objects that are next to impossible to photograph.  The photograph that you see above, hardly a good one, took well over a month and dozens of takes and required the perfect sunbeam on my kitchen table.  At best you can just begin to understand the shape of Opus.  With that as a given, let me tell you just a bit about this form of sculpture.

When I started this work with clear acrylic I thought that once again I was blazing a new trail.  With the first handful of sculptures under my belt I thought to do a web search to see if I was alone in what I was doing, hand carving sculpture from solid blocks of acrylic.  I was excited and comforted to find that I wasn’t alone.  Blazing one trail with Ming-Kahuna was quite enough!  It seems that a handful of years back a few very successful and famous sculptors began sculpting as I do with solid blocks of acrylic.  They call it “crystalline” which reflects the fact that the acrylics that we use are nearly optically perfect, more so than crystal glass sculpture.  The work of these sculptors sells for thousands of dollars but takes a figural form that, while beautiful, is not my style.  Please don’t confuse the works of these artists with the numerous acrylic animal sculptures that are out on the market, they are nothing alike and not nearly in the same league.  But, at any rate, it was a pleasant surprise to find that the precedent for this art form was already set and need not be created from he ground up.

So, unaware of the work of others, I had proceeded bringing my own style and artistic sensibilities to the art form, as if in a vacuum. The freeform organic shapes and styles of Ming/Kaze/Moxie were naturals for the acrylic that I have called Diamas.  The first sculpture was called Predator Shape Study “Fritz”, a piece that has been shown on the Ming site and resides in my collection as sort of a mascot.  Various spirals have been done and have sold around the country to people outside of the pipe community.  But, during that time the sculptures were not practical to produce.  Acrylic is very hard stuff and the blocks give way only grudgingly.  Then, when coming home from the CORPS Expo last year my good buddy Jeff Folloder suggested that we stop off at a woodworker’s supply store in North Carolina.  While in the store Jeff came up to me and plopped down into my hands a grinding tool that turned out to be the keys to the kingdom.  Finally, in addition to another tool that I had added a few years before, I could do pretty much what I wanted with Diamas.  Better yet, with one further simple tweak to the one tool, my abilities will be unlimited.  With these advancements I have been working slowly and methodically since, honing my skills.  I’m quite proud of my previous pieces, but with the piece that you see above, Opus, I have reached the next level.

Opus, as named by my wife while I was wet sanding the piece in the pool, is a most unusual shape.  The piece of acrylic from which it was sculpted is like no other that I have used.  When bought it was separated from the other acrylic and located by the polycarbonate, so its exact nature is unknown to me.  All I know is that I set the block aside with the shape that it would take having changed over and over again, developing for almost five years.  Then, one day I woke up knowing that it was the day to work the block.  It had to be so, and I made it so.  I had looked at that block of Diamas up on the shelf almost every day for years, and the shape of the piece finally locked into place.  Of course the piece that you see above varies even from that pre-carve locked shape, but that is the fun of art, rolling with the moment as what you see in your mind’s eye comes to be, leading to new visions and inspirations.

Opus begins up top as an almost Arashi tamper shape morphing into a somewhat Predator belly shape below.  As the piece necks down into the lower portion strong contours arise out of the organic spiral that come to define the shape below.  The upper and lower portions are very different but the transition and the continuation of a strong contour throughout brings the shape together offering a sort of complexity that holds one’s vision and interest rather than causing the eye to pass right over and away.  If each definite section of the piece is viewed alone the shape of the other section isn’t what you would predict, but, the two are fit for each other and one flows into the other without taking the piece into the realm of the mundane.  As I’ve said, my wife saw the shape of a penguin, something that I see as well.  Since seeing the penguin I have also seen the shape of the benevolent aliens, the Mondoshawan, from the movie The Fifth Element, especially when viewed from the side.  Please feel free to see what you want in it, like it or dislike it, or dismiss it altogether, or take pleasure in its form.

Overall the piece is approximately seven inches tall, three-and-a-half inches wide from front to back, with a width side to side of two inches.  The piece is much larger than that sounds and is not lost on a shelf with other pieces of art.  Size-wise this is a substantial piece.  As to the material itself, as I’ve said, Diamas is generally more optically clear than crystal glass.  The light refractions within are incredible and are a large part of the difficulty with photographing such a piece.  One advantage of Diamas over crystal/glass is that once glass is damaged repair is next to impossible and difficult at best.  Chips and scratches are often permanent.  With Diamas significant damage is far less likely to occur and chips and scratches are easily repaired to bring the piece back to new condition.  Often a simple buff is all that will be required.

Opus is being offered for sale. For information on pricing please go to: http://www.ming-kahuna.com/moreinfo.cfm?Product_ID=1043       

A double-edged sword.

I suppose that the whole business thing associated with being an artisan (or artist, I will use the terms interchangeably as I do both)) should be a simple matter. In its simplest form it all boils down to making something, and folks can buy it, or not.  But, as is usually the case, the devil is in the details.

I’ve been doing this for about a month shy of nine years.  Actually, it’s longer than that, but that’s neither here nor there.  What is important is that the nature of what I do, and how I sell it, has changed drastically over the years, always in a state of flux.  Early on all tampers sold were general sales.  I made it, showed it, and sold it.  Then, as my work became known, special orders became more common.  So did custom orders, the ones where the customer suggests some shape, one such as my favorite example “I want a tamper in the shape of my Aunt Edna’s nose.”  Custom orders have never been particularly well received as my work is about what’s in my mind’s eye, not someone else’s.  The goal is that we share that vision.  I’ve never been fond of the notion of being a human frazing machine where someone else’s vision could be brought to life through my hands.  What I do is about my own vision, and people either buy into it, or they don’t.

That said, special orders have always been different and far more desirable.  With these orders people request that I do work that is my own, maybe tweaking size, or material, or requesting a certain shape that is part of my repertoire. I’m 100% fine with that as what I am providing is mine to provide.  The end result is a Ming, Kaze or Moxie that could have come from my hands uninitiated.  And while there was a time where my focus was away from even these special orders, today they make up the vast majority of what I do.  Many of my customers and collectors give me free reign to make them whatever I want, while others have more specific requests.  Either way they end up with pieces that represent the artistry and craftsmanship that has brought me to the point where I’m at today.  If you think about it, to be able to work on a piece that you know to be already sold is an incredible position to be in, from a strictly business standpoint.  And while any piece that I have created has eventually sold, some sooner than others, such security as a pre-sold piece is a great comfort.  And knowing that any piece that you do for general release will probably sell without going up on the web site is equally comforting.

The problem with the foregoing is that like most things in life that offer a modicum of comfort there is a very distinct downside.  Like the title of this piece implies, the sword is double edged and cuts both ways.  The very distinct downside is that when you take the comfortable route it generally precludes taking a gamble.  Of course the businessman would ask why gambling would be desirable, but the artist knows the answer well.  Art is about taking risks.  It’s about pushing the envelope, to go where you haven’t been before.  It’s not about resting on your laurels as much as it is about building upon them.  There can be no growth without risk, and, truth be told, a risk well taken can provide the rush, the high, that keeps an artist going, ever striving towards some goal that I suspect (and hope) is unobtainable.

So where does all of that leave me with what I do with you, someone who might consider buying my work?  This question is very much on my mind, and especially so after a conversation yesterday with a friend/customer of mine.  He called to talk and to place a special order for a bamboo tamper, a request that he left me to do as I wish.  In passing he said to me that he loved the work that I have been doing lately but that everything that he saw was already sold. He was right on that, and I had no good response other than to say that I try as hard as I can to keep offering pieces for sale that folks can actually buy.  With so little of what I do even getting to the web site unsold the task of providing general release pieces becomes exceedingly difficult.  On the other hand, I’m just a little confused here.  If I go to my web site I find twenty-three tampers available for sale in a fairly wide variety of shapes and materials.  No, they aren’t brand new pieces, but I can assure you that they are as good as anything new that has or may come out.  So, I suppose that part of me notes that there is a good group of tampers sitting right there for sale, so I’m really not going to sweat it too much.  On the other hand, I understand human nature and understand two important aspects of the human condition: 1.) new is always better, and 2.) folks want most that which they cannot have. Those two aspects of human behavior go a long way towards defining my predicament.  Then, when you consider the fact that if people continue to perceive that you have nothing to offer then they will lose interest and go elsewhere, you can begin to see my position, one smack dab between a rock and a hard place.

So, what’s the net/net of all of this?  I’m not quite sure and I’m hoping that some of you might offer me some guidance on all of this.  I do know that I’ll continue to provide customers with unlimited access to place special orders.  The stability that they offer me allows me to continue all of this without great monetary concerns.  I also know that folks who have not placed special orders in the past are most welcome to do so now and in the future, or to contact me about what I might have in the works.  I also know that I’ll continue to work hard to develop my craft with new shapes and materials, taking risks and pushing the envelope, both with special order pieces and pieces that will be offered for general release.  Further, I’ll work harder towards offering more pieces for general sales, but at the same time I will continue to point out that there are already great pieces constantly being offered on my web site that also represent the best of my work.  Newer isn’t always better, sometimes it’s just the same as the older stuff, just newer.  And while folks may often want what they can’t have, there is a perfectly good Plan B available in existing pieces being offered, work guaranteed to please just the same.

Bottom line?  There are several ways to acquire my work if you are so inclined.  My goal is to make each of those ways a completely enjoyable experience. Your suggestions as to how I might approach this issue are most welcome and appreciated.    

das weiner im shnitzel

Despite having an undergraduate degree from a university with one of the top psych departments in the country, my knowledge of Sigmund Freud is rather limited, more in line with that of folks with no formal training in the science. My department was heavily behaviorist, where Skinner held court and Freud was the jester.  But, despite the disdain with which Herr Freud was held by my mentors, I still understood the proposition that sometimes a cigar is far more than a cigar.  Of course, when one makes long cylindrical objects made to be inserted into an orifice, the ground is set for the raising of eyebrows, winks, and nudges to the rib cage.  Say no more.

I well recall the early days exploring my craft and the shapes that were created.  I’d proudly hold the tamp up to the light, bask in it’s magnificence, and think to myself  “Holy crap, you can’t sell that”, they’ll make you move your workshop out next to the airport by the “book stores” and nudie bars.”  So, I’d take one last look, have one last laugh, and throw the offending tamp into a big tin can where it would be sheathed until the day came that I could transform it into something else.

Since those early days I have learned to accept my shapes for what they are, and if someone should see something, shall we say, “phallic”, well, then so be it.  The engineering of the pursuit sort of sets the stage for such, and there is precious little that I can do to change that.

Unfortunately when it comes to my full size non-tamper sculpture there is no such excuse.  The task doesn’t dictate the shape.  There is no reason for there to be a weiner in the shnitzel.  A cigar can just be a cigar.  “Johnson” need only be a last name, and “Dick” only need be a first name. Funny, one of my best friends in high school’s name was “Dick Johnson.”  You get the idea, so I’ll let this part of the story peter out.

At any rate, when I began my full size sculptures, under the auspices of Ming Destiny, the first piece that sold would’ve made old Sigmund blush.  Fortunately the purchaser was a psychoanalyst who fully appreciated the underlying tones of the piece, but, since then I have been ever vigilant, sort of the pee-pee police, making sure that my shapes stay above the belt.  Then, yesterday, all hell broke loose.

The rough carved piece that you see above was four years in the planning.  The block of clear acrylic was like none that I have ever seen in its clarity.  Shape after shape came up for consideration and summarily dismissed.  I wanted to do more than a rain drop sort of shape, a shape for which I have come to be known, but by going beyond that I had the pee-pee police grabbing for their helmets and billy clubs every which way I turned.  Then, I came up with this shape, sort of a drop morphing into my Arashi tamper shape.  What could the harm be in that?

When the dust had settled the only word that came to mind was “D’oh”.  I had done it again. I even emailed a couple of friends to make sure, and the responses were unanimous:  “you’ve carved another…”

 Well, so be it.  Old Sigmund was right and I’m just not going to fight it or care anymore.  And while this piece will look a lot less reproductive once the shape is further refined and sanded and buffed to perfect clarity, it is what it is.  I’m through caring and dicking round with this issue.

Freud, was right.  Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar.  That’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.

What the day may bring…

This morning  when I awoke I gazed out my bedroom window at the sun rising over the Blue Ridge chain of the Appalachian Mountains.  As the sky brightened I found my pulse quickening.  The beginning of the day is a treasure to me, those moments when the realization comes to my clearing head that I will be free to make whatever I wish, beautiful things that will become part of someone’s life.  Those moments are priceless to me and often bring the inspirations and thoughts that will define my creativity for the day.

Yes, there are dozens of special orders that will demand my attention, and each of them will have their own time, the exact right time, but I always allow time for my creativity of the moment to be expressed unchecked.  Creative inspirations are like dreams.  They become more diffuse as time passes, like fog melting away in the warming sun, eventually vanishing, returning to some cerebral reservoir, never to be seen again in their present form.  They are an opportunity that if not taken will be squandered, never to be duplicated, as unretrievable as the delicate crystalline form of a single snowflake.  

As even a slight breeze will change the pattern of the world around us, the unavoidable intrusions of the day disturb the balance of the moment.   Faced with the impending day, that time upon awakening is sacrosanct, incredibly fragile moments when the intangible is given bedrock and form so that it can come to be, and find its way to my hands, then to your hands, and the bowl of your pipe.

In its simplest form, that is the essence of what I do.       

Where did they go?

My email inbox indicates that some of you have noticed that the number of available tampers at my web site (www.ming-kahuna.com) is much fewer in number that it has been in the past.  Well, that is true, but, the fact is that the number of pieces up now is more typical of the assortment that has been available at any one time in past years.  The current decrease back to more typical levels reflects the fact that a larger portion of my work is devoted to special orders.

If you have followed the course of my craft over the years you will know that I have had a love/hate relationship with special orders. And while I’m still not thrilled with custom orders (ie., make me a tamper the shape of my Aunt Edna’s nose) I love special orders (ie., make me a Pug in Panache).  There is a big difference.  One is someone else’s vision, the other is re-creating my own work.  So, having finally come to terms with this issue, a very, very large portion of my work product is special orders.  I try and display some of the special orders on my site, often as works in progress, so that my customers can keep tabs on what I’m doing and maybe have some ideas for what they themselves would like to order.  I hope to be able to do that more and more as right now it doesn’t happen nearly enough.

That said, as more of my time is devoted to special orders fewer pieces are offered for general sale.  This is unavoidable as there are only so many hours in a day.  Despite this, rest assured that I am making a conscious effort to maintain a portion of my production for general and show sales.  And while many tampers offered for general sale sell within minutes of going up on the site, that is not a reason to not consider the other fine tampers that are offered.  Some tampers sell quicker than others.  Some of my finest tamps have taken the longest to sell.  One never knows.

Happy 3rd Birthday Ming Destiny

Yesterday Ming Destiny turned three years old! On July 13, 2004, with an announcement on ASP, Ming Destiny formally kicked off with the offering of the first TouchStone, Mako in Caneel (seen above). The concept behind the art of Ming Destiny has been “art for art’s sake” as opposed to “art that works” for Ming-Kahuna, which is an artisan effort.  The pieces created for Destiny are generally not pipe related and are only sometimes functional, as opposed to strictly aesthetic.  TouchStones for example are small sculptures that can often be carried as pocket pieces, or displayed on a shelf, table or desk.  Some are pieces that can be fiddled with while on the phone. I’m a doodler so I appreciate something to keep my hands busy while on the phone.  Other pieces have been “full sized” sculptures, some of them based on tamper shapes.  Numerous sculptures have sold and a number of new commissions have recently been accepted. Before my move to Atlanta I was set to sell my work in a couple of galleries, but my move ended that.  The gallery’s commissions here in Metro Atlanta are so outrageously high (well in excess of 50%) that I will continue to sell my own work through the Ming-Kahuna site for TouchStones, and through word of mouth for my sculpture (and maybe at Ming-Kahuna in the future).

Two new functional items, one pipe related and one promising to be very popular with the women folk, both made from Caneel, are about to be announced. Destiny is ever growing offering an output for more unlimited artistic expression.

At any rate, Ming Destiny has allowed me to express my art in pieces that have no requirement as to fitting in a pipe bowl.  You’d be amazed at how much of a challenge the functional aspects of a tamper offer when creating a tamper.  If the tamper won’t fit, it ain’t worth spit.  As a tamper that is, but as a purely aesthetic piece it may have great value. 

So, Happy Birthday to Ming Destiny.  Those of you who visit the Ming-Kahuna site actually get to see only a tiny part of what’s going on with my art, but that may well change in the future.  I’ve kept Destiny out of the limelight, except on a very limited basis, but that is set to change.