This seems a little odd to me now, but an artist who I loved during my twenties and thirties was Charles Wysoki, an American folk artist. He traveled to New England every Fall and took photos to use for his paintings...paintings of simple small town scenes with much going on, painted in a simple style where you didn't worry about things like perspective. I think after living such a chaotic life, the simplicity of the scenes drew me in, and I wanted to live in those places. I wrote him once, told him how I loved his work and asked a question about technique. He wrote me back, on a card featuring one of his paintings. That handwritten card from him is still one of my treasured possessions. He couldn't have known it, but when it arrived I was in the middle of a terrible, abusive marriage and it gave me hope for a better life. It may have even been the impetus for me getting out of the marriage and making a better life.
Suleika, I love where you wrote “there’s a kind of poetic logic, as if we’re always gathering threads, and weaving them into a tapestry whether we realize it or not”. As a textile artist & potter too I use that weaving metaphor as I’m working on a piece. I remember a friend who made me a quilt years ago saying she thought of me each stitch and cocooning under that quilt, I felt her love. I put that energy into my pots & the socks I knit for friends. I had a note on my calendar for that weekend in June, hoping I could visit my daughter in NYC & she could bring me to the show but for now I wait for the orthopedic doctor to assess my MRI & see if there’s hip surgery in my near future. As soon as I can walk with ease again I will travel, get outta town! I’d agree with many so far this morning, I’d feature you as the artist I feel I know through your sharing ….through words & paintings & conversations you’ve shared with us featuring Jon or Elizabeth…. you’ve created this vibrant space for us to play in & I deeply appreciate it and really look forward to Sunday mornings and these prompts. I’d also feature my mom as an artist I knew well. She included me in most of her adventures as I was her youngest child & she wasn’t putting her art on hold anymore. I tagged along on great travels with her camera & many lens or her paints & canvas, always interesting times with Dorothy Jewell!
Suleika feels like a friend even though I don’t know her! She’s exposed her vulnerability, fear and brilliance. Suleika has so much courage and she’s meeting her life head on. No one is guaranteed anything while they’re alive, and Suleika has taken all of that uncertainty and put it into her creativity. Bravo 🙏💪🏽
May 26·edited May 26Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Carmen Radley
My first thought was 'I want to be there', but I am thousands of miles away, on a different continent. The prompt is so perfect for me because I do believe I know people who I've had an undeniable connection to through their art or words and I've always wondered if I knew them before or if my soul was familiar with theirs or if there was some sort of magic going on that continously draws me to them. I have a few people to write about, including you (Suleika), this exercise will definitely make my tender heart happy. Happy Sunday 💖
When I finished my freshman year of college, I broke up with my hometown boyfriend and flew to the Netherlands.
I wandered into the RijksMuseum in Amsterdam and saw Rembrandt’s Night Watch painting. Important looking men with spears and a little golden-haired girl in a shaft of light. They seemed to overpower her innocence.
Then I visited the gift store. I bought postcards of Rembrandt’s The Polish Rider - so handsome - and the Jewish Bride - the Dutch couple on their wedding day.
I did not know, like I do now, that Rembrandt was alluding to the Biblical Isaac and Rebecca, who pretended to be brother and sister to keep from being killed by King Abimelech.
All I noticed was the husband was embracing - so protectively - his new bride’s shoulder and his other hand was upon her brocaded breast. Such tenderness.
Then I saw a poster of a Pear Tree in Spring by Van Gogh. The robin’s egg blue sky spoke to me. The delicate, twisting branches, each displaying white creamy buds blooming with promise, called my name.
I rolled up the poster and kept it in the back closet during a stifling, sad marriage, when I lost a sense of who I was or what I could become. My important-looking husband almost overpowered me.
Finally, after ten years living in solitude, writing poetry, I pieced together my life and emptied my closet, hoping to redesign my bedroom, feeling deep in my bones that someone loving and supportive was coming into my life. There was a budding hope.
The pear tree poster was torn in the lower left corner, but I discovered a mat would cover the rip. I found a beautiful gold frame and hung the pear tree above my queen-sized bed, freshly adorned with a mint green comforter.
I created a place of beauty and promise.
Not long afterwards, I met a man who has become my soulmate. I cannot give enough praise and thanks to the heavens for his nurturing love.
When he entered my bedroom for the first time and saw my pear tree, he said, “That’s Van Gogh's Pear Tree, isn’t it? He’s one of my favorite artists. I visited Arles when I backpacked through Europe. I sat in his cafe near the Yellow House. I walked around the town. I wanted to feel his presence.”
We discovered that we had both “visited” Van Gogh the same summer of 1980.
Then we tenderly made love under the pear tree. What sweet promise!
I saw more of Van Gogh’s paintings in the museum with his name in Amsterdam during that fateful trip, It was a modern building - large white rooms, well-lit. His paintings were displayed masterfully, with lots of room around each one - plenty of room to stand back and admire.
I particularly remember seeing the last painting Van Gogh did before he died - Crows Over the Wheat Field. The crows looked so ominous, also the dark blue sky pressing down on the golden grain.
I have felt the weight of depression, the despondency of malaise. I, too, have considered taking my own life. I, too, have had visions of black crows descending in my brain.
But I also have had visions of pear trees. I see beauty with almost painful clarity. Like Van Gogh in his paintings, I strive to capture the truth of how I feel in my poems.
And my poetry led me to my Saint Christopher, who is traveling by my side now. Together we write and share our words. We delve deep into creativity, discuss every image, every thought we hope to express.
I don’t know if the world will ever know of our redeeming love. I only hope that someday our story may fill others with hope.
There is a Pear Tree in everyone’s closet. Let it shine.
Your writing is beautiful and powerful, Carla. Your descriptions brought vivid images into my mind, the true strength of a beautiful writer. I am so happy for you in finding your true soulmate after years of pain and suffeing. My husband's favorite artist is Van Gogh and I am going to share your piece here with him. Saint Christopher is one of my patron saints. I am glad you found him. Sending you a big hug and love for continued peace, love and happiness.
Thanks, Susan, for your kind words of encouragement! I am honored you hope to share my little story with your husband! I am jazzed he loves Van Gogh, too - has he ever watched the movie, LOVING VINCENT, which was created by over 100 artists worldwide who handpainted in oils for the animation? The movie explores the mystery surrounding Van Gogh's death - and is provacative and a visual feast! I think you can see it on Amazon! Enjoy - and thanks again!
I just asked Brent if he has seen the movie & he said he has heard of it. I read your description of it and we have added it to our movie list. Thank you for the recommendation! ❤️
Carla, I felt like I was walking beside you, or perhaps behind you as an observer of all you saw and experienced. "There was budding hope." I feel such a deep gladness for you and also a profound thanks for your strong, poetic writing this morning.
Edward Hopper...where many others see "Loneliness" in his work, I see The Great Observer of the Bliss of Solitude. Early Sunday Morning, fills me with the hope of a new day. Nighthawks provides an assurance that someone else is awake late at night too. I see his careful positioning of light, and gravitate towards it. Suleika, your description of your Art Show, had me walking through it in my mind's eye. Emily, I was (this is not poetic) knocked on my ass at your painting with words. I thank you both for a prompt this morning that woke my joy, long buried in grief.
It’s so wonderful you and your mother can share this experience of showing your art, of sharing your suffering, and of producing a reckoning with despair and uncertainty. Once again, your writing has a beauty of its own.
Truly, the artist Suleika feels like a friend. Certainly you’re an inspiration and changed my life profoundly by helping me find my community and my voice. I’m thrilled to have a ticket to the opening (along with several WNAP pals). Looking forward to seeing the exhibit and hopefully meeting you and your mom after four plus years.
Yes, Abby: I am flying from the wilds of BC to the opening in Frenchtown to share the opening and talk with you, Suleika and a group of fellow Isolation Journalers - who met on-line on April 1, 2020.
To meet in person for the first time is a story to behold. A full circle of connectedness. I am counting the days.
I, too, will be living 'vicariously' from along the banks of the Columbia River! I covet Suleika's paintings, writings, and Jon's music! These two, together and separately, have changed my life! Have the greatest time, those who have tickets, and share photos and reports with the rest of us, please!
May 26·edited May 26Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Carmen Radley
Frenchtown is also home to Dig Yoga and my close friend Sue Elkind. Surely, since the opening is sold out, I can make a summer visit. The prompt-Colette-we are sisters but we are not. She adored her mother, I adored mine-but she died way too young. We have many careers, love the physical, writing, getting up in life, huge choices, bad marriages, I have not met the 3rd caregiver that adores. Life with cats is unknown, a worker bee, up at dawn, gardens flowers, circus, brusque. I love Colette by my side.
I gave Sue Isolation Journals for her birthday. she is such a good friend, I love her so much.. too --yes very small on some corners thankfully- I will come to the show another day.. surely will have been to Art Space it is so lovely and congratulations and Thank you maemae
Enjoy the opening & sharing your art with the world ❤️ I'm sure it'll be cathartic for you and your mum. I am not a hoarder and sometimes throw away objects too quickly to realise they might have a deeper sense for me (maybe it's some sort of a protection) but sometimes having physical objects, the most banal objects, that are connected to what I've been through and that were silent witnesses of it all is not a bad thing. Virginia Woolf was right again! Unfortunately it's too far away, but I hope I'll see you and your art at a different occasion!
Hi Willow! I was moved by your beautiful poem about your "art walks" with your father - my mother taught us kids to oil paint when we were in grade school and I remember the mysterious wonderous names of all the colors you mentioned. I am so sorry your father was trapped in a narrow mind - my father and I also drifted apart as he became more and more gripped by paranoia. But we have the childhood memories that still shine in our hearts - perhaps showing our fathers when they were young and freer from fear. Thank you for creating such a lovely poem. I hope you keep painting! And writing poetry!
This is beautiful, Willow. I am sorry you were estranged from your father. This is something I am learning is more common that people realize. Have you ever read They Called Us Exceptional by Prachi Gupta? I read it last October and it is an excellent book.
You are welcome! While each case of mental abuse is different (mental and/or physical) Prachi’s book is extremelt well-written and she does not hold back anything about her narcissistic father. She is a very intelligent, very strong young woman.
I really think you will like it. As I wrote before, no one's experiences are the exact same, but she shares her story honestly and openly. I think the best memoirs are those that are written with vulnerability and honesty. That is what makes us connect with the writer. If you don't mind, would you please let me know what you think of of it once you have read it?
well, i cant really promise that. i am a victim & survivor of nearly 20 years of abuse by five members of my family of origin. anything related to my recovery can be deeply personal.
@Emily, love your writing, what an expansive background you have. We have some shared alignments, I studied in Ireland (home country) and I can see the UT Texas tower from my perch here on my couch! @Suleika, like others have said, I see you as a friend, your lovely and vulnerable open heart. Writing about a friend-artist, my friend Anna. I came to know her skill while staying in her apartment in NYC. She had these miniature squiggle art drawings all over, portraits of people. She dismissed them though, not seeing the majesty in her work. Fast forward and I visited her last year at her home in Sicily and she has started to do these elaborate oil paintings, stunning in their detail. She would never call herself an artist but she is enjoying the process now and evolving her talent in new directions
French town, NJ, I hope I get to know you in the next 3 months.
In the meantime I muse about my friend Sandy Jackman who has been a book artist for over 60 years. I love imagining looking through her lens and seeing the colors undulate while her hands play with shape and design.
May 26·edited May 26Liked by Suleika Jaouad, Carmen Radley
I too have had the privilege of being in Frida's house, and wept over her bed that I swear I could still see the impression of her body. To smell the oils, the garden, and the lingering of her essence was the most memorable for me. It was a Proustian moment of scent evoking the magic of Frida! P.S. I love love your luscious pink Spoonbill!
Oh drat - I’ve been hoping to attend the opening! In the meantime, I will be manifesting a swiftly moving waitlist and hope it makes it to me and mine. I can’t attend the talk, unfortunately.
This is an absolute triumph - of spirit, of joy, of tenacity, of hope! Yay to you and all the ways you cultivate those things in all of us. 🤍
Sometimes when I read the Sunday journal entries from you and your guest contributors, I have to stop while reading, multiple times, to allow tears to come, to sit with words I've read that stir emotions in me, and to feel grateful for beautiful human connection. Today is one of those times. It took me awhile to read through both entries. Thank you. Thank you for sharing the way you do. I'm so happy for the meaningful story you and your mother have shared with the world and the way you both "arrange whatever pieces come your way." And for the excerpt Emily Rapp Black shared. There was so much resonating inside of me while reading both pieces. I hope you have a wonderful show opening! And, even if I sound fan-girlish, you are the artist that I'll write about in my response today. :) So much love to you! <3
This seems a little odd to me now, but an artist who I loved during my twenties and thirties was Charles Wysoki, an American folk artist. He traveled to New England every Fall and took photos to use for his paintings...paintings of simple small town scenes with much going on, painted in a simple style where you didn't worry about things like perspective. I think after living such a chaotic life, the simplicity of the scenes drew me in, and I wanted to live in those places. I wrote him once, told him how I loved his work and asked a question about technique. He wrote me back, on a card featuring one of his paintings. That handwritten card from him is still one of my treasured possessions. He couldn't have known it, but when it arrived I was in the middle of a terrible, abusive marriage and it gave me hope for a better life. It may have even been the impetus for me getting out of the marriage and making a better life.
It's amazing how artwork impacts us. How wonderful of you to write him and of him to write back to you. <3
Suleika, I love where you wrote “there’s a kind of poetic logic, as if we’re always gathering threads, and weaving them into a tapestry whether we realize it or not”. As a textile artist & potter too I use that weaving metaphor as I’m working on a piece. I remember a friend who made me a quilt years ago saying she thought of me each stitch and cocooning under that quilt, I felt her love. I put that energy into my pots & the socks I knit for friends. I had a note on my calendar for that weekend in June, hoping I could visit my daughter in NYC & she could bring me to the show but for now I wait for the orthopedic doctor to assess my MRI & see if there’s hip surgery in my near future. As soon as I can walk with ease again I will travel, get outta town! I’d agree with many so far this morning, I’d feature you as the artist I feel I know through your sharing ….through words & paintings & conversations you’ve shared with us featuring Jon or Elizabeth…. you’ve created this vibrant space for us to play in & I deeply appreciate it and really look forward to Sunday mornings and these prompts. I’d also feature my mom as an artist I knew well. She included me in most of her adventures as I was her youngest child & she wasn’t putting her art on hold anymore. I tagged along on great travels with her camera & many lens or her paints & canvas, always interesting times with Dorothy Jewell!
Suleika feels like a friend even though I don’t know her! She’s exposed her vulnerability, fear and brilliance. Suleika has so much courage and she’s meeting her life head on. No one is guaranteed anything while they’re alive, and Suleika has taken all of that uncertainty and put it into her creativity. Bravo 🙏💪🏽
I just tried to buy tickets. Its sold out!😔
I know. Me too!
My thoughts are identical! BRAVO to Suelika❤️
❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
My first thought was 'I want to be there', but I am thousands of miles away, on a different continent. The prompt is so perfect for me because I do believe I know people who I've had an undeniable connection to through their art or words and I've always wondered if I knew them before or if my soul was familiar with theirs or if there was some sort of magic going on that continously draws me to them. I have a few people to write about, including you (Suleika), this exercise will definitely make my tender heart happy. Happy Sunday 💖
THE PEAR TREE
When I finished my freshman year of college, I broke up with my hometown boyfriend and flew to the Netherlands.
I wandered into the RijksMuseum in Amsterdam and saw Rembrandt’s Night Watch painting. Important looking men with spears and a little golden-haired girl in a shaft of light. They seemed to overpower her innocence.
Then I visited the gift store. I bought postcards of Rembrandt’s The Polish Rider - so handsome - and the Jewish Bride - the Dutch couple on their wedding day.
I did not know, like I do now, that Rembrandt was alluding to the Biblical Isaac and Rebecca, who pretended to be brother and sister to keep from being killed by King Abimelech.
All I noticed was the husband was embracing - so protectively - his new bride’s shoulder and his other hand was upon her brocaded breast. Such tenderness.
Then I saw a poster of a Pear Tree in Spring by Van Gogh. The robin’s egg blue sky spoke to me. The delicate, twisting branches, each displaying white creamy buds blooming with promise, called my name.
I rolled up the poster and kept it in the back closet during a stifling, sad marriage, when I lost a sense of who I was or what I could become. My important-looking husband almost overpowered me.
Finally, after ten years living in solitude, writing poetry, I pieced together my life and emptied my closet, hoping to redesign my bedroom, feeling deep in my bones that someone loving and supportive was coming into my life. There was a budding hope.
The pear tree poster was torn in the lower left corner, but I discovered a mat would cover the rip. I found a beautiful gold frame and hung the pear tree above my queen-sized bed, freshly adorned with a mint green comforter.
I created a place of beauty and promise.
Not long afterwards, I met a man who has become my soulmate. I cannot give enough praise and thanks to the heavens for his nurturing love.
When he entered my bedroom for the first time and saw my pear tree, he said, “That’s Van Gogh's Pear Tree, isn’t it? He’s one of my favorite artists. I visited Arles when I backpacked through Europe. I sat in his cafe near the Yellow House. I walked around the town. I wanted to feel his presence.”
We discovered that we had both “visited” Van Gogh the same summer of 1980.
Then we tenderly made love under the pear tree. What sweet promise!
I saw more of Van Gogh’s paintings in the museum with his name in Amsterdam during that fateful trip, It was a modern building - large white rooms, well-lit. His paintings were displayed masterfully, with lots of room around each one - plenty of room to stand back and admire.
I particularly remember seeing the last painting Van Gogh did before he died - Crows Over the Wheat Field. The crows looked so ominous, also the dark blue sky pressing down on the golden grain.
I have felt the weight of depression, the despondency of malaise. I, too, have considered taking my own life. I, too, have had visions of black crows descending in my brain.
But I also have had visions of pear trees. I see beauty with almost painful clarity. Like Van Gogh in his paintings, I strive to capture the truth of how I feel in my poems.
And my poetry led me to my Saint Christopher, who is traveling by my side now. Together we write and share our words. We delve deep into creativity, discuss every image, every thought we hope to express.
I don’t know if the world will ever know of our redeeming love. I only hope that someday our story may fill others with hope.
There is a Pear Tree in everyone’s closet. Let it shine.
This is so powerful, Carla. Thank you for sharing ❤️❤️❤️
Thanks for your kind words, Carmen. I hope you find hope, joy and peace on your life's journey! Blessings!
Your writing is beautiful and powerful, Carla. Your descriptions brought vivid images into my mind, the true strength of a beautiful writer. I am so happy for you in finding your true soulmate after years of pain and suffeing. My husband's favorite artist is Van Gogh and I am going to share your piece here with him. Saint Christopher is one of my patron saints. I am glad you found him. Sending you a big hug and love for continued peace, love and happiness.
Thanks, Susan, for your kind words of encouragement! I am honored you hope to share my little story with your husband! I am jazzed he loves Van Gogh, too - has he ever watched the movie, LOVING VINCENT, which was created by over 100 artists worldwide who handpainted in oils for the animation? The movie explores the mystery surrounding Van Gogh's death - and is provacative and a visual feast! I think you can see it on Amazon! Enjoy - and thanks again!
I just asked Brent if he has seen the movie & he said he has heard of it. I read your description of it and we have added it to our movie list. Thank you for the recommendation! ❤️
I love that movie!!!!Beautiful story.
Carla, I felt like I was walking beside you, or perhaps behind you as an observer of all you saw and experienced. "There was budding hope." I feel such a deep gladness for you and also a profound thanks for your strong, poetic writing this morning.
Edward Hopper...where many others see "Loneliness" in his work, I see The Great Observer of the Bliss of Solitude. Early Sunday Morning, fills me with the hope of a new day. Nighthawks provides an assurance that someone else is awake late at night too. I see his careful positioning of light, and gravitate towards it. Suleika, your description of your Art Show, had me walking through it in my mind's eye. Emily, I was (this is not poetic) knocked on my ass at your painting with words. I thank you both for a prompt this morning that woke my joy, long buried in grief.
Sending love to you, Mary.
Love received, and thank you, Susan.
It’s so wonderful you and your mother can share this experience of showing your art, of sharing your suffering, and of producing a reckoning with despair and uncertainty. Once again, your writing has a beauty of its own.
Truly, the artist Suleika feels like a friend. Certainly you’re an inspiration and changed my life profoundly by helping me find my community and my voice. I’m thrilled to have a ticket to the opening (along with several WNAP pals). Looking forward to seeing the exhibit and hopefully meeting you and your mom after four plus years.
Yes, Abby: I am flying from the wilds of BC to the opening in Frenchtown to share the opening and talk with you, Suleika and a group of fellow Isolation Journalers - who met on-line on April 1, 2020.
To meet in person for the first time is a story to behold. A full circle of connectedness. I am counting the days.
That’s so great Pat! I will live vicariously through you all!
I, too, will be living 'vicariously' from along the banks of the Columbia River! I covet Suleika's paintings, writings, and Jon's music! These two, together and separately, have changed my life! Have the greatest time, those who have tickets, and share photos and reports with the rest of us, please!
Thank you. I will do my best with your support. ❤️
I hope to see photos of you all!
Love it!!!
❤️❤️❤️
Frenchtown is also home to Dig Yoga and my close friend Sue Elkind. Surely, since the opening is sold out, I can make a summer visit. The prompt-Colette-we are sisters but we are not. She adored her mother, I adored mine-but she died way too young. We have many careers, love the physical, writing, getting up in life, huge choices, bad marriages, I have not met the 3rd caregiver that adores. Life with cats is unknown, a worker bee, up at dawn, gardens flowers, circus, brusque. I love Colette by my side.
I love Sue! What a small world! The artist talk still has tickets available ❤️ https://www.eventbrite.com/e/artist-talk-with-suleika-jaouad-and-anne-francey-tickets-902531836017
I gave Sue Isolation Journals for her birthday. she is such a good friend, I love her so much.. too --yes very small on some corners thankfully- I will come to the show another day.. surely will have been to Art Space it is so lovely and congratulations and Thank you maemae
Enjoy the opening & sharing your art with the world ❤️ I'm sure it'll be cathartic for you and your mum. I am not a hoarder and sometimes throw away objects too quickly to realise they might have a deeper sense for me (maybe it's some sort of a protection) but sometimes having physical objects, the most banal objects, that are connected to what I've been through and that were silent witnesses of it all is not a bad thing. Virginia Woolf was right again! Unfortunately it's too far away, but I hope I'll see you and your art at a different occasion!
my father was a watercolourist;
i was raised on light & colour.
during walks near our childhood home
he would point out
how the sun illuminated
the bark & leaves of trees
and how the hummingbird's ruby throat
glistened.
cerulean blue,
cadmium yellow,
burnt umber &
alizarin crimson
flowed lyrically in my young mind
and playfully with brush on paper.
we were estranged before he died;
the years of abuse became too much.
in his mind i embodied the enemy,
my beliefs different than his own.
"can't we just be father & daughter?" i asked,
"can't we focus on what joins us?"
... can't we dance & play in the dappled woodland sunlight under a cerulean canopy of sky? ...
Hi Willow! I was moved by your beautiful poem about your "art walks" with your father - my mother taught us kids to oil paint when we were in grade school and I remember the mysterious wonderous names of all the colors you mentioned. I am so sorry your father was trapped in a narrow mind - my father and I also drifted apart as he became more and more gripped by paranoia. But we have the childhood memories that still shine in our hearts - perhaps showing our fathers when they were young and freer from fear. Thank you for creating such a lovely poem. I hope you keep painting! And writing poetry!
here's to lovely childhood memories! ♥
Beautiful imagery, Willow. I hope you do dance and play together in a dimension free of our egotistical chains. ❤️
♥
This is beautiful, Willow. I am sorry you were estranged from your father. This is something I am learning is more common that people realize. Have you ever read They Called Us Exceptional by Prachi Gupta? I read it last October and it is an excellent book.
thank you for telling me of Prachi Gupta's memoir ... i will look for it. ♥
You are welcome! While each case of mental abuse is different (mental and/or physical) Prachi’s book is extremelt well-written and she does not hold back anything about her narcissistic father. She is a very intelligent, very strong young woman.
thank you for this. i've reserved it with our library & look forward to connecting with her, her story & her strength.
I really think you will like it. As I wrote before, no one's experiences are the exact same, but she shares her story honestly and openly. I think the best memoirs are those that are written with vulnerability and honesty. That is what makes us connect with the writer. If you don't mind, would you please let me know what you think of of it once you have read it?
well, i cant really promise that. i am a victim & survivor of nearly 20 years of abuse by five members of my family of origin. anything related to my recovery can be deeply personal.
@Emily, love your writing, what an expansive background you have. We have some shared alignments, I studied in Ireland (home country) and I can see the UT Texas tower from my perch here on my couch! @Suleika, like others have said, I see you as a friend, your lovely and vulnerable open heart. Writing about a friend-artist, my friend Anna. I came to know her skill while staying in her apartment in NYC. She had these miniature squiggle art drawings all over, portraits of people. She dismissed them though, not seeing the majesty in her work. Fast forward and I visited her last year at her home in Sicily and she has started to do these elaborate oil paintings, stunning in their detail. She would never call herself an artist but she is enjoying the process now and evolving her talent in new directions
Eavan, your friend Anna, sounds like such an inspiration.
You can check her out at www.makeitsicily.com. I loved visiting her home there.
Eavan, thank you! I need art now more than ever, and beauty provides a strength and scaffolding for me to get up from my grief.
Mary, how are you?
Jacqueline💗
Your friend Anna followed a path which led to one of her callings in life. That is beautiful.
French town, NJ, I hope I get to know you in the next 3 months.
In the meantime I muse about my friend Sandy Jackman who has been a book artist for over 60 years. I love imagining looking through her lens and seeing the colors undulate while her hands play with shape and design.
I too have had the privilege of being in Frida's house, and wept over her bed that I swear I could still see the impression of her body. To smell the oils, the garden, and the lingering of her essence was the most memorable for me. It was a Proustian moment of scent evoking the magic of Frida! P.S. I love love your luscious pink Spoonbill!
❤️❤️❤️
Oh drat - I’ve been hoping to attend the opening! In the meantime, I will be manifesting a swiftly moving waitlist and hope it makes it to me and mine. I can’t attend the talk, unfortunately.
This is an absolute triumph - of spirit, of joy, of tenacity, of hope! Yay to you and all the ways you cultivate those things in all of us. 🤍
Sometimes when I read the Sunday journal entries from you and your guest contributors, I have to stop while reading, multiple times, to allow tears to come, to sit with words I've read that stir emotions in me, and to feel grateful for beautiful human connection. Today is one of those times. It took me awhile to read through both entries. Thank you. Thank you for sharing the way you do. I'm so happy for the meaningful story you and your mother have shared with the world and the way you both "arrange whatever pieces come your way." And for the excerpt Emily Rapp Black shared. There was so much resonating inside of me while reading both pieces. I hope you have a wonderful show opening! And, even if I sound fan-girlish, you are the artist that I'll write about in my response today. :) So much love to you! <3
❤️❤️❤️