These first several days of 2018 have been mostly spent in the studio going through old piles of materials and accumulated objects and half finished or unresolved works (for some reason or another I convinced myself that I would do something with them) and either throwing them out or seriously organizing them.


At 42, I realize that time is a diminishing resource even if you do get all 24 hours of every day. It might be the relationship we have to an hour, day or a year, as we accumulate them, they feel less singular or defined. Relatively speaking they are actually smaller when seen geometrically, or in shapes as they relate to each other and the whole...


My effort is to gain clarity and focus to be able to not get tripped up on old baggage that becomes part of the hardwiring unless a conscious effort is made to upgrade the OS.

Consciousness is a theme of interest lately for me. How conscious are we as individuals? And as a group? I feel we cannot thrive (or even survive in any familiar sense) unless we start being really conscious of what we value and to what end?



starsuit is a stainless steel sculpture by Emil Alzamora

Sculptor’s blog, earth date: Dec 18th 2017. 
I have ... never.... had a .. blog ... before. It seems like an easy enough thing to do and to subject upon a willing public. I say willing because you are here. If you’re not a bot and you are reading this, well then thank you for your even greater commitment to checking out my services as a sculptor and now, for the first time ever, public diarist. 

Some things are better said than sculpted. I hope to figure out what that might be. I have often felt that writing is an important part of the artistic process. 

Process. My emotions and thoughts are floating around and they accumulate into ideas which, when conditions are perfect take form via some sort of material or process turning a wave into a particle. 

Anyway. I close with a poem I wrote trying to figure out an unclumsy title for a newly resolved work of art. 

Star Suit

On my way to the stars,
deep space hold me tight
hold me close
light take me reflect on my skin
hold my breath eternal.
Electric wind sail through me,
a spark a stellar flash.
Adrift in the spotlights of the gods
I bow to you
my flesh cool and still
heavy and dense as iron and elements bound.
Call on me. I come.