Annie Olson

"Artist Musings"

Come into my shell with me! My "Artist Musings" will give you an insight into my inner workings and why I create these faux shells and other works of art.


We are in the midst of this virus that's been able to shut down the whole world. A strange time to be opening an art website. An artist whose creations are coming from the knowing I find myself expressing in written form.

In these past 33 years I've been called 'deep' 100's of times. People are expressing what they perceive . A kinda gut statement. Before thinking.

I've given a lot of thought to their words.   "You're so deep!"

First of all, I don't see this as a compliment. Nor as a put down. Rather an inaccurate description.

I am not deep!

Rather, I've found myself taken deep. So what I write and speak are descriptions of what I've seen down there.

Down there?   Up above?   

You gain a particular way of seeing when you've been taken deep, flown above.  At the same time. 

Do you understand?

How different.             Being deep


                             Having been taken deep

How much of my life story, I chose of my own free will? And how much of my life was chosen for me?

True for each of us. True for the Whole Human Family. The Whole Earth.

With this interconnected world, this virus has enormous power to disrupt everything. So like an alien entering our atmosphere.

So in the midst of this, I will continue to blog and populate my website with my art.

Trusting The Invisible Hand of the One Whose Made All Things-to continue forming each us, all of us.   At the same time.

We went to The Godfather premiere March 15, 1972.

We went at the invitation of Marlon Brando to go in his place in protest of how American Indians were represented in Western films

"Only good Indian is a dead one." That was the mantra back then in these movies I grew up with.

I knew this was important so I had a studio portrait taken in the dress I wore and how I looked. The off white coat is the one I wore into the theater.

We exited our limo and walked up the red carpet just like in the movies. We went to the cast party afterwards and I remember that no one talked with me. My white skin in contrast to the dark skin of my husband and Bob Jim, Chairman of the Yakima Nation. Back then interracial marriages were rare. None of them wanted to hear how we felt. You’ll find nothing on us even being there.

This is the reason Littlefeather refused The Oscar for Marlon Brando a year later.

In the midst of this Covid 19 Virus that has us all staying home.   All over the world.

I'm down to a pound of Super Sculpey!    Eek!    Worse then seeing a mouse!

This is the beige clay I use, like a canvas, to sculpt my seashells and animals from.   I'm a lot like Goldie Locks with the potage, chairs and beds.

One too hot, one too cold.   One too big, one too small.   One too hard, one too soft.

I can't put it into words.   Except to say.    I know when it's just right!   The clay not too soft, not too hard.  Where it feels just right for my fingers to pull/pinch the animals into being.   And for the shells too.   If my clay is too hard the colors won't roll well together.  And if it's too soft, the pigmented clay mixes too easily.

It's like having a well-tuned violin. My fingers seem to be like the ears of my Grandpa Vogt who was piano tuner because he had a perfect ear.  Seems as if my fingers have a perfect touch.  At least for this clay.

I've been putting off ordering my usual 24 pound box.   Sinking $200 again into my art that still is not paying for itself.  I placed an order two days ago on line with the company I've always worked with.   It went through.  So I felt maybe I was in luck.

But yesterday I got this email from them.   Stocked, yet I expecting this.

"Annie-Unfortunatly, we sold out of the 24lb Super Sculpey before your order came through."

I realize I'm not the only little girl in the woods needing her clay to be  just right!

I feel I like a painter with lots of colored pigment, brushes ready to go.   Ready to express again through my fingers my beloved snails and animals.   But with only a couple of tiny canvases left to paint upon.

We artists are like chefs. We have our favorite pots and pans, knives, whisks and bowls.   We get thrown off. I know I am right now.

I can make light of this. But I would be devastated if I were never to be able to get anymore of this particular clay.  It is my companion. A part of me. And I also am part of it.

I need to put a positive spin into this blog. For myself and each of you who will read it.   We need to have hope.

I have lots of white base clay and lots of pigmented blocks of clay.   Black, brown, gold, coral, leaf green, yellow, lime, ballerina pink.  I could go on and on.  But you get the idea.   I'm not out of clay entirely.

So necessity has me in a new place.  To try some new things.   Deprived for now of my companion.

 © 2020 by Essence of the Spiral - Annie Olson.

Created by Robin Canfield