A Journey into Memory. Then Waffles. And an Exhibition.

This evening I’ll be standing in a beautiful gallery with my artwork filling the walls, watching visitors and patrons and engaging in conversation abut the work. It’s what artists work for, and it represents a year of creating this particular body of work.  So we started the day with waffles. Blueberry. And bacon.

I am thinking of the many stages in the process. I loved the side-of-the-road inspiration in rural South Carolina where I stopped, stood in the quiet of pines and looked into the heart of a small abandoned house. Its insides were filled with vines and saplings. The roof was gone. The door was rusted and peeling. It provided a strong inspiration for me for the body of work about HOME. I took photos. Those photos are actually transferred into the fabric that I used in several works.

I am thinking of the memories of my own childhood homes, and what it took to look deliberately at those memories and to make sense of the stories. Every artist draws on their own story, and I have drawn deeply from my own. But, I am not a fiction writer nor am I creating an autobiography. I have worked to translate personal story into interesting and thought-provoking images that will speak to patrons with all kinds of backgrounds. When a piece of my art is invited into someone’s home, I hope for it to provide new meaning and something new to see for a long time.

Art Quilt Every One Has a Different Story (Detail) inspired by my childhood row house home

I am thinking about all the logistics and practical aspects of creating a body of work. I started twelve months ago with a schedule and a series of sketches. I have addressed storage, transportation and shipping issues, and all the hands-on work of creating the pieces.

Now it’s there, on the walls. The waffles are gone, but I still have an invitation to offer. Please visit Arts on Douglas Gallery in New Smyrna Beach to view “HOME is What You Remember.” If you are not in Central Florida, I hope you will enjoy a visit to the gallery of these works on my web site, HERE.

Some in-the-works and sneak peeks below. I’m ready.

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Saying goodbye – and hello – to a home

Have you said good-bye to a home? It is like losing a close friend, causing you to want to touch it one last time, to trace favorite portions with your hand before walking away. Remember the feel of the front step. Remember the sound of the door opening. This week, as I am creating artwork about home and memories in my studio practice, I am also saying good bye – again – to a home.

I am not a housecleaning fan. I remember once reading a beautiful soulful essay which included words about the meditative power of cleaning baseboards. I thought, “really?” This weekend I cleaned baseboards, and it was, in fact, an act of reflection.

The house I lived in for six years, the house that was a landing place when life changed, is now a house I own and use for rental income. It’s about 900 square feet and not fancy at all. I loved being there. But I left intentionally and willingly when it was time for me to form a new household. It was my home. Now it’s not.

I cleaned baseboards in preparation for a new tenant to move in. This is now the second tenant, so I have experienced the transition of this home once before. It was left in good shape, so the prep work required has not been daunting. I have cleaned, patched walls and replaced carpet in one room thinking about new inhabitants and a new stage for this house.

Images of home and memories of home are so compelling! Home is where our memories begin and are formed. Home is a combination of a physical place and all that happens there. Home shapes us, in ways that may be nurturing or poisonous, or some of both. I am thinking of all these qualities of home as I continue in my current series.

I do not believe I could have created this work earlier in my life. There were too many layers still covered. Now, the work is a way to peel back the layers and dig into the rich soil of all that grows from such memories.

It is my way of saying “hello” to the concept of home.

Here’s a detail from one of the works in my current series, Home is What You Remember, “Something Real To Remember.”  The juxtaposition of the child drawing and faded homes in the background suggests the exploration of memory. More about this work on my website, HERE

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What happens if I actually read -- and follow -- my own “Notes to Self?”

I started this week with a note-to-self about content.

Working in the studio, it is easy to get involved in process and technique. That’s the day-to-day work of artmaking. But, I felt the need this week to remind myself, to remember, that it’s the thought and memories that are the whole reason for artmaking.

I have a number of works-in-progress right now, all dealing with the concept of home. Home is what you remember. Because this is such a personal subject matter, a number of times I have been absolutely stopped short by an image.

When I was creating the art quilt of row houses, I was overwhelmed by nostalgia. I grew up in that neighborhood. I have walked a sidewalk in front of those homes and looked in the windows. I rode my bike in the alley behind the houses. To see those images come to life on my worktable was an act of remembering.

When I created the art quilt based on photos of an abandoned house n South Carolina, I remembered standing there by the side of the road. I remember now the smell of pine and the sound of the pine needles beneath my feet. It was an off-the-beaten path road with little traffic. The house was overgrown with vines; the roof was gone. A fire, probably. I found it hauntingly beautiful, rich with somebody else’s life and memories.

This week, I’ve tried to give myself time to have some of those stop-dead-in-my-tracks moments on purpose. The shapes of houses. A small child drawing. A distant house through the trees. A large detailed bird nest. All are filled with meaning. I don’t want to get too busy to see and remember.

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