Grounded in the Sky

I was still having work issues at the time but the owners of the company were the type to look the other way on certain things. I did not have any serious responsibilities at my new job so there was little risk involved. I did not forsee the explosion of creative juice that would be a result of working here.

As with any new job, you have to get to a to a point where you are confident in what you’re doing before getting creative. At least that’s what I’ve been trained to do. Follow and become familiar with the rules before bending and breaking them. So that’s what I did. I became familiar with the people, procedures, facilities, regulations, and of course, the engine types I would be working on.

It took a few months to accomplish this familiarization. I found the coworkers to be very laid back and extremely welcoming. It was the first time I existed in an environment dominated by male influence. I worked with a bunch of dudes, bros, and “aceres” which became one of the sources for my art at the time along with the engine parts I worked on. I began incorporating design elements into my drawings which were taken from engine components.

I began thinking about making things in clay again. After all, I did have a history with making engine related ceramic work in college and always had fun doing it so naturally I leaned on this new experience for source material. Since I was still on a bicycle, I didn’t have the ability to find and work in a studio setting. All of my options were limited to my sketchbooks and what I was able to produce on my own. I quickly learned that what I knew as an artist was not entirely common knowledge. While I was in school, I was accustomed to speaking without having to explain myself or the subject of conversation because most of the people I conversed with were on the same page. We all had similar training and the only unknown information consisted of mainly niche subjects too specific to be common. This new environment showed itself to be devoid of academic influence and was geared more towards following strict procedures and guidelines. It was a federally regulated environment which means there was no room to color outside the lines. The art that came from this time period drew heavy inspiration from the sights I saw every day.

I still kept up with drawing in my sketchbooks, coming up with new ideas based on what I saw around me. I began developing and heavily revisiting the turtle idea and incorporating jet engines into it. Previous versions of the turtles I’ve made were simpler. The first was made in middle school and it had a smaller turtle on its back as a handle for the shell lid, the second one was made in high school and was not lidded. It had a giant cactus on it’s back and while it was a technically superior turtle, it still lacked substance. So the sketches that came from this time period revisited the turtle idea in a way that reflected what I was doing.

The engine shop was set up to disassemble jet engines that did not qualify for flight for one reason or another. The engines were taken apart, cleaned, inspected, repaired and reassembled to be tested for “serviceability” before being installed on an aircraft. My job initially was to sort through the tubes that carried fluids and air throughout the engine to make sure they were not damaged in a way that compromised the integrity of the line or engine function. I sorted through hundreds of tubes looking for tiny imperfections which would keep them from being used. The powers that be took notice that I was able to read, nterpret, and apply the engine manual and decided to keep me around to train me further. The people who worked in the inspection department were the jedi council of the shop; the brain of the operation. They took me in and began exposing me to more complex tasks and procedures allowing me to show what I was capable of learning. I doodled a lot during this period; I put any and all writing utensils available to me in that environment down onto any paper I had in front of me. Even on engine paperwork.

I still rode my bike back and forth, to and from work mixing in public transportation when I was tired. I had a backpack that I used to carry some essentials for urban biking. A tire patch kit, some basic tools, extra clothes packed in a vaccum bag, and water. Lots of water. And the most important passenger, the art bag, a paper sized ziploc with my sketchbook and some drawing instruments. I brought my backpack everywhere and it served me very well. At work, I still didn’t know what I was and was not allowed to do just yet, or how much I could get away with before someone said something about it. My supervisor saw what I was doing in my down time with doodles and drawings and began inquiring about my hobbies and abilities. This was the catalyst to the creation and unleashing of Mamita