Mystery of the Rising Sun

Cover of my Ancient Near East sketchbook.

Embracing the Unknown

In the summer of 2013 I brazenly opened a fresh sketchbook and began compiling research notes, images, and ideas for artwork about our human migration from East Africa into the Ancient Near East. I say brazenly because who in their right mind would imagine they could say anything remotely new about the place where western civilization began?

Research on the Ancient Near East occupied summer and fall of 2013. But by winter of 2014 I had to change focus to prepare for a self-portrait show I had entered. The interruption continued as I left my job in June, did a residency in Italy, completed work on Southeast Asia/Oceania, worked on an earlier migration from Africa into Southwest Asia, and created three-dimensional pieces for Africa and Southwest Asia.

As one thing led to another it was fall of 2016 when I re-opened the Ancient Near East sketchbook, reviewed what I had gathered, and made more notes.

Wheel and crescent were emerging as primary symbols.

I was particularly struck by the fact that the wheel was first devised in this region of the world, the region was known as the ‘fertile crescent’, and the earliest name for the region was Levant – meaning ‘The Rising Sun’. I drew a sketch that I called “The Rising’ and determined that it would somehow be a three-dimensional piece for the Ancient Near East.

My initial image for a 3D piece on the Ancient Near East.

I remembered a sculpture I had seen in a magazine. It was composed of two metal bars with profile images atop. The lower parts of the bars crossed in the middle to make it stand upright. I thought maybe I could create something similar out of foam core. I found a photo of the sculpture and placed it in my sketchbook.

Mea culpa: I did not record the title of this piece or the name of the sculptor.

In February of 2017 I drew my sketch to the size that I thought I wanted the sculpture to be, planning to use this drawing to make pieces to size. I contemplated how high the base bars should be and how high the images would be. I listed possible images to go on the crossbars: crescent shaped stone knife, Goddess figurine, bull, goat, herder, etc. I did a mock-up of ‘The Rising’ using foam core and watercolor paper.

Scale drawing of anticipated pedestal sculpture of The Rising.

My first mock-up using foam core and watercolor paper.

At this point I recalled how difficult it is to cut foam core at an angle. I realized I was not adept enough to create beautiful work. I would have to find another way to make this image. Facing the unknown brought to mind Nancy Drew mystery stories.

Nancy Drew Adventures

As a girl, curled up on the radiator in my bedroom, I read all of the Nancy Drew mysteries. I became aware of Nancy Drew as an archetype in my psyche in mid-life. I was leaving a thirty-year career as a global social activist to become an independent Shiatsu therapist and write a book. I had packed my meager goods and shipped them from Belgium to a friend’s home in Oregon. I had changed my name and visited my daughter in Boston. Aware that I had no clue what I was doing, I had opted to take the train across country so I would have time to put things in perspective.  

Boarding the train in Boston, anxiety burst into full bloom. Tears flowed over the loss of my established identity and the knowledge that my daughter and her fiancé were not moving to the west coast after all. Wet and crumpled Kleenex made a small mountain on the tray before me. Philadelphia and Chicago rolled by and then wide expanses of land and sky came into view. I attempted to calm myself by writing in my journal, scribbling one fear after another. Desperately I began pulling reflective tools out of my memory to tamp down my fears: timelines, strategic planning, mind-maps.

I made a mind-map of all the unknowns I faced. That’s when Nancy Drew appeared. By the time I was met at the train station in Portland, Oregon, I had determined that I had three mysteries to solve: Where on the west coast would I settle? Once location was determined, where in that place would I live and work? And finally, how would I create and build a Shiatsu practice? If Nancy Drew taught me anything, it was that unknowns are not a threat; they are the beginning of a new adventure.

"Don't panic," I told myself. "The Rising is a grand mystery to be solved."

Maybe Wooden Hoops

My adductor strain in mid-April put creative work on hold for a while but by mid-June I was back in the studio and ready to try another way of making a three-dimensional form of The Rising. With a vague idea of maybe finding a wooden embroidery hoop to use for a sun or wheel, I headed to JoAnne's where materials tend to spark my imagination. The hoops I saw were not the right size and did not speak to me but I was drawn to 18" wire wreath forms. I found some decorative tapes that I thought might be of use in turning a wreath into a sun.

Wire wreath wrapped with tape - initial idea for a 'rising sun' image.

I found some gold and copper adhesive paper that I bought just because the shiny colors spoke to me of the sun. I spotted some 16" cardboard cake holders and got them in case the wreath form didn't work out. Wood was still on my mind so I went to Woodcraft where I found some tubular wood about one fourth inch in diameter. It's used for cane-bottomed chairs.

I had in mind using raffia to make sun rays coming out from the wreath form. 

I spent several days wrapping tape around the wreath form and imagined using raffia to suggest rays of the sun. Next I traced and cut out two crescent forms from matte board. They would fit back to back. I covered them with gold and copper adhesive paper.

I had the idea that I could mount the crescent form on the wreath sun with sticks of balsa wood left over from when I made the Ecosystems Stick Chart for Oceania. I figured out how to make a cross bar by joining two together. The cross bar would be on the back of the crescent and attach to the wreath sun. However, when I began wrapping the longer stick with yellow raffia, the stick broke. I decided the pressure of wrapping raffia was too much for the balsa wood so switched to the idea of painting the sticks, either copper or orange.

Broken cross bar and two other attempts.

About this time I was nearing completion of the six boards that comprise the Ancient Near East painting. I decided to invite a perceptive friend over to have a look. She took one look at what I had for The Rising and said, "LiDoña, you can't use a cross. It would be offensive to non-Christians." I asked, "Even if they are asymmetrical? It is just to attach the sun and crescent together."

She was adamant. "Doesn't matter, I don't think you should risk it." Of course she was correct. But it meant that this three-dimensional piece called The Rising was still a mystery.

What if?

As I continued working on the six Ancient Near East boards I fretted and stewed for a couple of weeks. I tried to imagine another way to attach the sun and crescent. Could I hang them from a hanger? Nope, looks weird and clumsy.

One morning I walked into the studio and seeing my wreath sun hanging on the wall, I found myself wondering, "What if this is not the sun but instead is a base from which sun, crescent, and wheel were suspended?"

One 'what if' unleashed others. What if I made a wheel out of one of the cardboard cake holders? What if I wrapped it with raffia to give it texture?

Cardboard cake holder with copper adhesive paper and raffia.

What if I used the wooden loops from Woodcraft to make the rising and setting sun? Since the wood is stronger than balsa, what if I wrapped them with the raffia I was going to use for the rays of the sun?

Permutations of the sun.

Wrapping raffia is a time-consuming task. But I was so pleased with my wheel that I took a deep breathe and went on to wrapping the three wooden loops I'd gotten at Woodcraft.

On the Independence day weekend I attended Art and the Vineyard with a friend. One booth had some hanging bead strings. I asked the artist what she was using for the hanging material. It was plastic coated wire used in jewelry making. She talked about crimping the wire ends together and said, "It's so easy." "Oh yeah, I thought. Easy when you've done it several dozen times."

Nevertheless I was convinced that this would be the best way to suspend the mobile and its pieces so back I went to JoAnne's to get wire, crimps, and a crimping tool. But none of these had directions for how you crimp. I hemmed and hawed for a couple of weeks until it occurred to me to look for a video on You Tube. Sure enough there was one that gave me the basics. So I went up to the studio to practice before making hanging wires for the base and the three objects.

I used two differently sized sets of letters to identify
contemporary countries that made up the ancient near east.

I have always been fascinated by kinetic sculptures. I am mesmerized by the way pieces move gently in relation to the flow of air. In this case, I also delight in the moving shadows cast by the sculpture. The mystery precipitated by a sketch in summer of 2013 came to resolution in summer 2017. It turned out to be an adventure in materials with Nancy Drew and JoAnne's playing the major parts.

Shadows cast by The Rising's moving parts remind us
that this region of the world has always affected other places.