Many afternoons, when I find myself in my studio surrounded by my paintings, books, bronzes, sketches, tools, photos, computer, brushes, papers, so many creative elements, reminders of things great and small, some finished, some never to be finished, some just starting, I think of what it all says to me. Every piece, every object is part of the story and my history of a whole world of experiences, family, friendships, work and love of beauty and artistic expression in all its multiple forms. Most emblematic of it all is my love of creation. From this comes the drive and the willpower to be the hawk, the apple, the musical note, the stone, the sun, the moon and the distant galaxy. We are stardust and pregnant with hope, do not say no to yourself, Paris is worth the mass.
Douglas Charles Granum
“Imperial Black Pine Cone”
Thursday and rain, once more, incessant winds outside my studio, perched on a plum blossom filled bluff above Puget Sound according to my anemometer are a steady icy cold 15 mph. It is 7:00 A.M. my abandoned coffee, what’s left of it in my cup, is cold and the cream a white glacial scum on top. My studio is cheerless as I sit looking at the various Dow Jones market reports on my computer. I am dressed in long winter underwear, sweaters, boots and raingear. As I look at my work boots I think of my Prada boots and the whirl of New York City last week. I am trying to keep warm for the next phase of my morning, sculpting on the “Imperial Black pine cone”, a six hundred pound, four foot tall x thirty inch thick chunk of jadeite. This work is the result of a terrific northwest storm in which a small branch blew out of the top of a huge old pine with one little cone on it. Working with my collector, she a wonderful gardener, I suggested that we create this small cone in stone and the branch in mirror finish stainless steel. She enthusiastically supported the idea. Nature is never simple at best and to try to replicate it is beyond difficult but then I have never shied away from the near impossible.
Many of you have asked what, is my life as an artist like so I thought I would share with you how my life is composed at this particular moment. That last sentence is a clue, the life of the artist is never the same from day to day, at least not mine. I am a person that works on three to four commissions any given day. At one moment I might be writing a short story, the next painting sumi ink on hand made paper, the next cutting steel for sculptures, the next carving stone, the next and the next well they never stop. My life is creation and creation takes ideas and ideas take movement.
A sculpture is a poem without words. This week I’ve had the direct happiness of installing two works. Each work quiet in its own way and yet each with a great deal to say. The first is a mobile, “Dancing Spirits” in a clinic in Yelm. This work is of hot shop glass and steel. We blew the glass at the Rubino studios in Olympia. The lobby of the clinic is architectural and linear featuring large windows letting in immense amounts of light perfect for the glass, since glass is all about light. 
Dear Friends,
Many of you have asked about my trip to Eastern Europe so here are a few ramblings:
