Made on the Gulfshore

The results of that frenetic energy fill her utilitarian white van: Appalachian-style key-baskets woven from native Florida grasses, palm fibers and seed pods; sleek Nantucket baskets made with traditional cane fibers; and colorful, contemporary wicker baskets with sensuous tops and bases turned from discarded wood from King’s native Michigan.

King holds a tiny basket made of coiled silk thread wound and stitched into complex patterns of black and white. The artist says the basket, made in this very van during a five-month road trip to Alaska with her husband, David King, would sell for about $300.

"I was working with silk, so it was the first time I actually was able to grow my fingernails. Basket-making is tough on the hands," she says.

A self-professed "crafty" type, King discovered basket-making at an arts and crafts show. "I thought ‘I could do that.’ So I went to the woods, got some willow and started making baskets," she says of the seminal moment in her three-decade obsession with one of mankind’s oldest functional art forms.

King’s sculptural forms, as well as the organic texture of her pieces, belie their utility. Some offer a stylish stash for stray puzzle pieces, grocery coupons, bits of string and the like. Larger baskets are perfect for keepsakes, silk scarves, love letters or a vase of fresh flowers.

"There was a time when I used to do strictly functional things, but now I prefer the more refined, artistic forms. But I never make anything that people would be afraid to use," King says. "I suppose baskets were the original disposable commodity. But I like to make things that last."

Scalzo Gallery in St. Petersburg represents King, and Michigan State University has two of her pieces in its permanent collection. Still, King sells most of her baskets at arts and crafts fairs and juried exhibitions in Southwest Florida. She also accepts commissions.

Her husband, David, a retired-dentist-turned-artist, turns the sleek, buttery lids, bases and other wood pieces on the lathe. "All the wood we use has been found in the area—out of friends’ waste piles or from local sawmills from pieces they can’t use. The burl woods we use are small spots of disease, or abnormal growths," King says. "It used to be that you could pinpoint where a basket was made by the materials used to make it. Traditional forms grew out of the materials available to the maker."

Most of her pieces range in price from $150 to $300. "I started selling these baskets because I wanted a self-supporting hobby, but the hobby has sort of taken on a life of its own," she says. "I hate to think how much I make for the amount of work that goes into one basket. After 30 years, I really don’t want to know."

King says that’s why she focuses on sculptural baskets rather than purely utilitarian items. "I lose myself. One becomes totally absorbed in the creative process," she says. "I want to keep the art form vital, teaching others and passing it on, using traditional materials and techniques in contemporary forms and patterns.

"No two baskets are ever alike," she says. "They may have similar patterns, but if you look very closely, you can see that the colors and textures are as different and unique as the maker."