Oh Wilmington

Went to Wilmington for the Labor Day holiday with my bestest buddy. It was wonderful to get away, although I didn't get any art done. I guess sometimes you just need to get away from the daily grind and do something completely different than what your normal self would do. My normal self will tend to stay up late sketching or writing, and get up early with this idea or that idea jostling around in my head for attention. My abnormal Wilmington self seemed to want to go to bed early and read Kerouac's On The Road, and sleep late the next AM. Kerouac has an energy about his writing that takes hold of you. I found myself abuzz with excitement and creative energy, just lying there reading.
Went to the old section, funny how every Southern town I've visited has one - and poked around a bit in an antiques store. Saw these neat old chairs that reminded me of my childhood, when I would visit my grandparent's house in the summer and we would sit outside under the shade tree, in chairs like these. Life was unhurried then, time marked by the lazy flapping at flies with a flyswatter.
Well, back to the current state of things - deadlines, art, and other everyday concerns. But thank heavens for beautiful old cities like Wilmington - where we can still go to be transported back to the past.

Art Birth

A wonderful thing has happened. It may not seem like much to a lot of people, but I think it is quite the accomplishment.

In my small town we have, remarkably, several colleges, and one university, South Carolina State University, but no commercial art gallery. We do have, thankfully, a very good city-owned Art Center.

SCSU has an art museum and planetarium housed in the same building, which I find progressive. That's it in the picture. Last evening myself and other art lovers and supporters met and formed the first ever "Friends of the SCSU Museum and Planetarium" committee. We made plans for upcoming exhibitions and discussed the specifics of increasing the awareness of the importance of art in our community. I am delighted to be a part of this group! Among them is my high school art teacher, Barbara Townsend. She taught me to see, to really see, not just look; the basics of technique and the value of practice and repetition. I am eager to be under her guidance again.

A great thing is about to happen in our community, I just know it. Art has the power, unlike any other thing, to transform minds for the better, to give hope and the gift of expression to those who may not have any other voice. Art heals, art transcends.

Old Sheldon Church

There is a church in South Carolina, Sheldon Church, that was built before the Revolutionary War. It was torched by the Redcoats when G. Washington and the rest of the enlightened patriots were asserting what would become our independence. Sheldon was rebuilt when the ruckus calmed down, but was burned again when Sherman's army came calling. Her remains stand to this day, proud and defiant, shaded by centuries old moss-covered oaks in the SC Lowcountry.

I have visited this serene, spiritual place many times, and I never tire of it's beauty. When I feel depleted by everyday cares and concerns, I carve out some time to journey there. I think about how much she has seen, the changes she has weathered. The spirits that guard her.

To touch one of her bricks is to touch the hand that formed it, a tangible connection to history. I leave absolutely renewed.

Here is my latest drawing of Old Sheldon, and a photograph to compare it to.

Out of Nowhere

Sometimes the most wonderful opportunities come seemingly out of nowhere. You can be going along, conducting your day to day routine activities, and along comes mysterious chance. This happened to me week before last when I was approached about being at a reception featuring other diverse artists, for one night only. The others include jazz vocalist Del Rae, author Barbara Randall Clark, and a food artist, myself being the sole painter. This may not sound like such a big deal to a lot of people, but I live in a very small town with very small opportunities for artists of any kind, much less for others of different disciplines.
The brainchild of this enterprise is local business owner and former Woman Entrepreneur of the Year Rachelle Jamerson. Her business, Rachelle's Island, houses an eclectic array of unique goods, from clothes she has designed herself, to handmade jewelry, even a travel agency (I suppose if you can't find it at Rachelle's she'll send you where you can!) This soiree is going to be held in a historic house that Rachelle has lovingly restored and dubbed Thee Matriarch, Tuesday June 19 from 5-8 PM. There it is above ^^ Isn't it beautiful? If you find yourself anywhere close please drop in.
As artistic opportunities in smaller towns and cities seem to dwindle, it is heartening that there are people still around who see the necessity of art, and are willing to bring it to the forefront. Art encourages, art inspires, lifts us up from the mundane and allows us to touch the clouds.

Wellspring

Visited the Rita Smith Gallery in Columbia Friday last and was inspired by what I saw. This gallery showcases emerging South Carolina artists, and the variety and quality of works there is very encouraging. There are, of course, imaginative works on canvas; oils and acrylics; but also pottery, the most original and creative pieces I have seen in a while. There are utilitarian yet very dynamic fabric pieces, one of a kind purses and scarves that I guarantee you no one else at your next soiree will have. And handmade, thoughtful jewelry to go with that new or already- existing -in -your- closet outfit. You know these pieces are thought out, not mass produced, and lovingly made. A local artist, Mary Williams, was on hand to provide gentle conversation and/or assistance.
Places like this provide a wellspring of hope for those of us who are struggling, needing, to express ourselves, as well as providing the public a very valuable commodity: unbound creativity - the very key to the universe.

Reunited

I'm about to begin my next painting. The canvas is a stark white, which makes me nervous. I am anxious to put a mark, a blot of color, almost anything, as a respite from the bottomless white. I have the concept in my mind, next I will do a sketch, work out the composition and values. That's the rigorous part, the grunt work, if you will. Experience is teaching me to take this as a dose of medicine, a necessary unpleasantness you have to go through to get to the pleasantness. The reward will be the moment my loaded brush caresses the canvas, like lovers reunited after a long absence.

Savannah Smiles

Managed to get to Savannah over the weekend with 2 of my best friends from high school. We were in art classes together - separating after graduation like dandelions on the wind. They went on to college, successfully acquiring degrees; I did not. I did the 9 to 5 thing. 24 years have slipped by, the 3 of us keeping in touch sporadically. Sometimes 3 or 4 years would go by between contact, sometimes only months; the rhythm of our lives dictating the tempo of communication. We met, and it was as if no time at all had passed. Sure, we are no longer the naive girls we were, but our bond is still there. The same linking of our minds and spirit. This is true time travel. This is the fountain of youth. This is riches beyond the dollar, yen or peso. And to be in the gloriously historic city of Savannah, with her fantastic archetectural heritage, wonderful art, diverse cuisine - oooh! My creativity well is full again.