Here is a video showing sculptor Sabin Howard working on a maquette and inspecting pre-sculpted armatures. Most scenes are set at Pangolin Foundry in the UK. This video was created by the sculptor’s daughter Madeleine.
I emailed this letter to Portland Mayor Tom Wheeler
Dear Mayor Wheeler,
Like millions of Americans, I am shocked by the violence of Antifa in Portland, Oregon.
In particular, I am horrified at the assault on journalist Andy Ngo.
But the trouble in Portland has been going on for a while.
My husband and I have been hearing reports of how bad things are in your city. Last spring when our daughter in her last year of medical school was creating her list for internship and residency, we counseled her against Portland. She has a close childhood friend in Portland, and she liked the program where she interviewed, but we advised her to look elsewhere to complete her medical training.
We discussed with her how Antifa controlled Portland and harassed citizens who were not in line with their radical beliefs. That was before Antifa attacked Andy Ngo.
I said, “Antifa is an aggressive, psychopathic militia—like the Brown Shirts under the Nazis. Don’t be fooled by their claims of trying to help the unfortunate. They are an intolerant and totalitarian group of enforcers who use violence to achieve their goals. And they are being condoned by the Mayor and the governance of Portland. You deserve a safe and peaceful city for your medical training.”
She is a fine student and a splendid doctor and she was matched to her first choice: it was NOT Portland.
For your consideration, I am a registered Democrat. So is my husband.
I wanted to let you know that there are consequences for Portland when a group of thugs controls the city. Wise people avoid Portland.
Traci L. Slatton
Of the rainy morning, drinking my coffee: heavy cream and coconut sugar. I am thinking about the week passed.
The writer, Lee Howard, no relation to my husband, wrote a wonderful article about my participation in the WWI Memorial as a model in the relief. Howard is a skilled writer and the piece is lovely–warmly written and respectful. He quoted me correctly. He portrayed me with both kindness and some playfulness.
I particularly liked that he quoted what I said about appearing in Sabin’s amazing relief:
“All told, it’s pretty cool,” she said. “Perhaps (someday) one of my great-great-great-great-great-great-great-grandchildren will stand in front of the relief and look at my face and feel our connection.”
Of late I support my husband sculptor Sabin Howard on his journey. He’s embarked on a grand adventure: he’s the sculptor for the National WWI Memorial that will be set in Washington DC.
Sometimes it feels as if my life has been taken over by Sabin’s mandate. Other times, I think I’m fulfilling an old contract…one that he and I negotiated in the Before Times, when we were deciding to come together during this life for our lessons and our love.
One of my favorite astrologers told me that I was in a progressed waning Moon cycle, and that feels about right. The light will return to me. Just not yet.
In the meantime, I’m happy to write about my talented husband. I’m proud of his work! I’m proud of him. Check out my article in Medium about Digital Technology and the Sculptor’s Art: Innovation and Imagination. It’s about what happens when the ancient art of sculpting in clay collides with the newest digital technology.
Here’s a video I did on YouTube about Sabin working on the new maquette:
Moreover, we received word that our book The Art of Life was happily ensconced in the Watson Library of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, which delighted me, indeed. Sabin and I worked together to write this photo-essay of classical figurative sculpture through the ages, and it was independently published. Take that, Phaidon and Taschen!
Until soon, salve!
So I have posted a new article on Medium, a site I’ve never used before, about my experiences at the 64th Viennese Opera Ball.
I was invited by a dear friend who’s an Austrian Countess.
What a gorgeous gala! Filled with music, song, fashion, and delectable food. Not to mention the fascinating people I encountered.
I loved the ball and enjoyed myself immensely. It was the most beautiful pageantry! It was truly a treat and I recommend it.
Read all about it on Medium.
by Traci L. Slatton
My hat warned of twisting postures
an old rag, really, but after a quarter century
imbued with my fondness.
It was suddenly gone, vanished
as if it had never been yet it was
full of my cranium, and my hair, and various
dreams that had rattled through while it wore me
A pair of sunglasses featured
in favorite photos, me kissing my little daughter
growing in front of my eyes
asking to board away at a distant school
next to my friend the blonde Countess
she of evanescent visits
All that is
even my yoga
studio closed, the community
and the classes I enjoyed
the shala of my heart
a pair of suede boots my husband bought me. Will I ever find
all that is
like the close touch of a mate who has shed
over another woman,
younger than me,
and that faith misplaced
along with haberdashery and footwear and other
miscellany, even people.
Another warrior, a longer dog, a deeper backbend
to open my heart.
I move through until the body trembles denying
It is loss that is union.