If I hurry a little bit, I get to be part of the Memphis Rozelle Artist’s Guild Sketchbook 2012 Project that opens on March 2:
I’ve already missed the deadline to get in the catalog but I’ve got til Thursday to get it in the mail. To help me along in finishing it, the universe sent me a lovely cold so that I feel like sludge. Should I draw a sludgy slug? I wanted to do a nice themed journal about Memphis memories but it wound up going all over the place. It did, however, give me a nice venue to process some feelings about my mom dealing with dementia. Here are some sample pages.
One thing I really like about keeping a sketchbook or art journal is how you can see how different moods and events impact your drawing style.
The Rozelle Artist Guild show is a non-juried one, very democratic that gives it an exuberant quality. My husband likes to say life is what happens when you’re making other plans. I plan to get this finished in the next two days. It’s only 16 pages, for goodness sakes. I’ll let you know what happens.
I’m sitting at my desk watching the intermittent snow and rain fall outside. I am warm and comfortable. My new apartment is very well insulated and has radiant heat — so much nicer than the drafty apartment I left. The new smaller space has a certain coziness to it — a small snug refuge from the cold world. I’ve been here a week and two days and feel right at home here at Bridge Meadows, a three generation community serving the needs of foster families.
My dear husband Jim made a scale layout of the apartment before we moved, and little post-it note cut outs of furniture and laid out everything before we moved. Then we set up my writing/drawing area in the old apartment exactly like it would be here so I could get used to it. He made sure it was set up and ready to use the first day we moved in. I barely went a day without my precious artsy clutter. And while it’s been a little disorienting to move from a big space to a smaller one, it’s been mostly good and a bit exciting.
My desk/studioJim's desk/dining table
The community here at Bridge Meadows is very friendly but very respectful of privacy. It’s odd to be in a neighborhood where people are excited that you moved in and want to know all about you. Since there are Wisdom Circles, Happy Hours (not the alcohol kind), classes and meetings, there are plenty of ways to get to know people, but when I come home, I’m home, in my own Bless This Mess sort of fashion.
The kitchen upon entryEntering the cozyThe view from the patioThe nook between bed and bathroomBedroom
The kids here at Bridge Meadows are pretty busy with school and after-school stuff, and it’s winter so I’m not seeing a lot of them hanging around, but they are a part of most of the meetings. There are6 families with a total of 17 kids in the neighborhood so far, all of them 13 and under. It’s been a long time since I’ve been at a meeting that’s interrupted by the joyful noise of a youngster — and I love it.
I’ve met many of the elders (there are about 29 of us) — a wonderful and diverse group of young-at-heart optimists who all feel pretty lucky to be in this intentional community built to support families adopting foster children.
I feel this sense among us that we can help patch up a small tear in society. Instead of just being “low-income” seniors, I feel we are now contributing members of society. It’s both a subtle and grand shift in self-perception. We are now teachers, friends, aunties, grandparents, musicians, neighbors, uncles, writers, counselors — all more than a statistic or a hard-luck story. There are so many creatives and support people, it’s hard to figure out what my contribution will be — but whatever it is, I know I’ll get plenty of support. I’m also pretty sure I’m going to learn more from the kids than they’ll learn from me. Plus it’s a work in progress, this community. It only opened in April of 2011, and is only one of 3 in the entire county. That gives it a fresh, shiny sheen of optimism.
The library
I’m on the library committee already. The on-site library has hundreds of children’s books and a fair collection of young adult and adult books — about 2000 in all. Of course that isn’t enough! I now can channel my book-a-holism into that and make sure such classics as The Big Bad Pig and the Three Little Wolves gets in the collection. I ‘m going to start a regular story time at the on-site library and do storytelling and perhaps workshops/swaps if people are interested.
The library is also a wonderful quiet room to get away from it all — a place we all need, sometimes. One of the girls expressed that need at a library meeting last night and that resonated with me. In the midst of all these caring and concerned people, I’m sure it’ll will be an ongoing need for the kids to find a small quiet place of their own.
Here are some pictures of the grounds — a little barren here in the midst of January, but I’m seeing lots of places to sketch and hang out when it warms up. Jim’s got some gardening plans and already has installed a few plants.
Community garden boxesThe bridge through the meadowBio-swales to collect rainwaternew landscaping
My art time has been a bit limited but I”m getting back into the swing of things and messing up many a fine white piece of paper. Here’s a New Yorker cartoon by David Borchart that inspired me.
I used to draw myself into New Yorker cartoons every once in awhile to practice different styles — you think cartoons are simple until you try to copy them. This cartoon stuck a chord with me. I once had a young artist ask me if I made a good living at art. I said no. Most people don’t make a good living at it, but you can make a good life. I hope that if I had the health to go back to a day job, I’d bring my rejoicing heart with me. I think this new phase of my life here in Bridge Meadows will keep me from ever having a poor heart. So I just drew a cartoon of myself rejoycing. May your heart find it’s wealth, too.
Shoo Rayner, the exuberant British illustrator, did a great lesson on staying inside the box — or getting the box in your head. Draw hundreds of boxes! Draw, draw, draw! I took his advice. I think taking time to draw has made me pace better and not get mover’s hysteria or extreme fatigue and arthritis flare ups. I’ll see how it works moving day — the day after tomorrow!
It hasn’t been all packing and drawing, though. I finally finished Mr. Beardsley, a grandpa doll I’ve been working on for my friend Sara, a graphic & fabric designer at Saraink, and her son little Lincoln. My husband was NOT the model — he just happens to have a beard.
My husband Jim checking Mr. Beardsley for huggability
Little Lincoln is only 17 months old and is already almost as tall as him mom. Good thing Mr. Beardsley is rugged.
Sara & Lincoln & Mr. Beardsley
Now all the sewing supplies are packed (along with a few more unfinished projects). Tomorrow the big journal and colored pencils go into a box and I’ll have just the journal in my purse and the pens and pencils there — a mere half dozen. I think I’ll survive.
I got to deliver my latest commission to my friend Mary yesterday. She liked the pose of the Survivor Doll, but she wanted something more in line with her own story, a story of recovery — so this is Recovery. Mary is a skilled needleworker. I imagined her covering herself, protecting herself with her own craft. Arts and crafts are a major part of how we save ourselves and how we recreate ourselves.
I really enjoyed the opportunity to make this doll and think about how hard it is to re-invent ourselves. But in that struggle, there is so much beauty.
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She is a cloth doll over a wire armature. Her hair is made from lamb and alpaca wool and silver thread. Her dress is hand knitted from a linen, silk and rayon blend yarn.
The object in her hand is a symbol of the vision it takes to imagine a better life for oneself. I was lucky to find a silver origami crane charm as a focal point for her. Her heart is symbolized by a smooth red glass fragment secured with silver wire and a locked locket. She protects her heart and moves forward.
If you are interested in commissioning an art or medicine doll, please contact me.
joy murray art~stories~life 