Brenna's Musings

lettuce in garden

The Wait Is Over!

April 29, 2018

All month, snow and cold, and cold and snow had tried our collective spirits. Because there is really nothing we can do, waiting becomes a kind of surrender. I watched my daughter, Antara surrender with grace and wit as her “spring” wedding day was slammed with a historic blizzard with snowfall over 15 inches! Rich with stories, it has become even more magical and memorable.

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Image by Brenna Busse

art can change the world!

March 29, 2018

Art can change the world is a bold statement, and in my heart of hearts, I know it is true. Can I prove it? There are many instances where an image, a story, a book or music has galvanized protest or revolution. But just by asking for “proof”, I am invoking the objective, fact based mentality that is so prevalent in our culture today.

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snow on fence photo by Brenna Busse

blessings of snow

January 29, 2018

It was a good old fashioned snow storm — over 12 inches of snow in one day! White blanketed everything: schools closed, skiers whisk by on unplowed side streets, gleeful kids sliding in the park, everyone shoveling or snowblowing, cars stuck, even buses in a snowbank. What is this strange and tenacious frozen stuff?

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Hibernate. Photo by Brenna Busse

And Now We Hibernate…

December 29, 2017

As I look back on this last year, it has been filled with struggles and also many blessings. It is heartbreaking to witness the frightening and unpredictable decisions of our misguided leaders. It is galvanizing to act, resist and sometimes see change.

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returning home…

November 29, 2017

Back in the familiar, those traveled, far away lands feel like a sweet, strange dream. So I bring back the memories and images to enliven my daily life so that I still carry that sense of adventure, where everything is new, unexpected, up to interpretation!

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Brenna Busse's studio

A Room of My Own

September 29, 2017

My studio is a smallish, cozy 1/2 of the upstairs of our humble home in South Minneapolis, with skylight, and windows overlooking the neighborhood. I have been creating here for 25 years!

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tools of the trade photo by Brenna Busse

Tools of the Trade

August 29, 2017

I love my hands, so grateful for our common prehensile possibilities. I rejoice in all that hands can do — and yet, there is a point where our original tool needs some support. That is when I reach, almost automatically to extend my hand, for one of my favorite tools.

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clay figures by Brenna Busse

This Moment…

July 29, 2017

I have been contemplating the line: a moment better than this is impossible to find –and found myself wondering, which moment is this? Is it the moment when the moon, like deep awareness, reveals meaning of the unknown? Or is it the darkness itself? Or is it just being alive, and present to every moment — no matter what that moment brings…

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Strong at the Broken Places

June 29, 2017

Breaking seems to be the “theme” of last month. It started when my dear daughter fell and fractured her ankle in three places, followed by my niece and two friends also falling and “breaking”. While not on the same level, for the first time was the sad sight of my one of my clay pieces — broken!

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rocky shore lake superior by Brenna Busse

When it Rains

May 29, 2017

Commitment and water — I saw the relationship a couple of weeks ago at my first outdoor show of the season in wonderful Marion, Iowa. 50 artists in the city square of this quaint small town. The weather forecast was bleak: rain and more rain.

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Clay work by Brenna Busse

Playing in the Mud

April 29, 2017

When my daughter, Antara was small — she loved springtime mostly for the mud. She was happy in her waterproof boots, splashing in puddles and making mud pies. These days, in the studio, working with clay, I have become that happy little girl. playing in the mud!

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six clay figures by Brenna Busse

Art is the Mirror

March 29, 2017

I believe to create art –to write to sing to make — expresses our true voice. It is a political as well as personal act. Art connects us, reminds us of our shared humanity, can open our hearts. I find literal “grounding” in the touch of clay, and constant amazement in the form it takes in my hands.

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