The Art of Thought

So, I've played hookey the past couple of weeks and not posted too much - so sad, too bad! It's just been one of those times - we all have them and whatever they are, they come and go. Deep, eh?

Ihawu - The Shield Painting # 3

I was excited to finish the 3rd painting in The Vukuzakhe Project - it's called Ihawu which means The Shield. It shows 5 women cradling the fabric landscape of two little girls playing. the whole group represents the Amandawe Support Group. Three of the figures represent the Zulu ladies in traditional headdress with 2 smaller figures representing my sister Ruth, Maurean (the tireless UVA volunteer) and me - they're larger because they carry the biggest share of work and love in the group. My sister, Maurean and I are just the small cogs but we all form the whole. I really like this one. It's bright and sweet, with a powerful message - support and love is colour blind.

Within Ouselves III - not complete

I also worked on the third painting in the new series "Within Ourselves" - this one fought me. I realized after thinking about it for a long time over a few days... I have a pattern of painting. I can paint 2 paintings in a series then I need to take a break from it and turn to something else, or another series. Must be that short attention span thing again. Anyway if I go straight from painting #2 to Painting #3 it fights me. Now I have finally - DUH! after all these years? How slow can one be? - worked this out I can change things around. Paint 2 and then do something else, come back paint 2 more... etc etc. So, the Within Ourselves painting #3 was progressing badly, in fact last night I thought it looked like I was painting the Teletubbies... that's when I went home and poured a glass of wine.

I do my best thinking over a cup of rooibos in the morning as I watch the light change over the river or in the evening when I'm having a glass of wine and relaxing. Things sparkle clearly in my brain then and I wonder why I couldn't see it before. Well, that's my excuse and I'm sticking to it!
I have lots going on in March - 2 trips up to New York City and much more... but I will try to be more consistant with writing my blog. See you soon!

The art of new ideas

The nearly completed painting 1, attaching fabric landscape to burlap next

It may be starting to sound like a weather report, but this is actually my weekly blog on the marvelous world of art. It’s just the weather has been so peculiar this winter - read mild. When we moved to Delaware I was
expecting a frigid blast of cold for at least 4 months. We’re now in the second week of January and it’s lovely out there. In the past week, we’ve had a light dusting of snow on the ground, 2 days later hot enough
weather to leave the windows open all day, then a day of torrential rain and voila! Today is a delight - crisp and sunny. But I certainly ain’t complaining, as they say. I often wonder just who the hell “they” are.

Maybe it’s this weirdness in the weather, but something this past week snapped in my brain and I had just had a torrent of ideas… some creative and interesting, some fascinating, some workable and some downright stupid. Never a dull moment in my head. My imaginary friend and I had some very lively conversations. And now, I am wondering if I can get to them all - of course every one of these daft ideas involve me doing something more than I already am.

To me this is what being a self-employed, entrepreneurial spirit is all about. When I get new ideas, I mull them over - sometimes for a long time, sometimes for a nanosecond - and then try them out. What’s the worst
that can happen? They either work, or not. If I’ve decided to try a new idea out on new folks, what’s the worst that can happen? They can only say yes, or no. Ofcourse people might laugh their heads off at me, but I
don’t care. So, why not try?

I am already starting to put some of my new ideas in to motion. Why wait? And to be honest, I’m glad. This first couple of weeks in the depth of winter can be a tad overwhelming. Usually all I want to do is stay quietly
at home or take a trip to visit someone somewhere wonderful, like my friend in Prague.

It may just possibly have something to do with my teeny weeny bank balance, so no travel, but I’m all a-fire with new ideas. It will be fun to see what works and what doesn’t. As one of my dear friends, a practical Scot, always says in his beautiful brogue, “It’s the wee victories in life that count, lassie.”

And finally - on to an update on the Vukusakhe project : my painting time proved productive this week. Painting 1 is almost complete. I hope to be finished with it by Saturday. I am well in to Painting 2 - a much more haunting subject than the first traditional village scene. Today I need to start prepping Painting 3. I’m chronicling the progress of the Vukusakhe project on my gallery face book page and am starting a page on my website about it…if you’re interested, go to http://annejenkinsart.com  or http://facebook.com/annejenkinsartgallery

The art of asking for help

the offending piece - the flash messed up the colours but you get the picture

If you’ve been following The Bag of Hope story,  http://thebagofhope.com , with the Amandwe Support Group, you’ll know “Vukusakhe” is Zulu for “stand up and do it for yourself.” An admirable sentiment under any circumstances, but more admirable considering the life these women face on a daily basis. They are proud and will not ask for handouts - they want to help themselves and the orphans in their area. These fine women make good role models - they are humorous, strong and determined. If they don’t know how to do something, they ask to be taught and they learn.
And in this I could take a lesson from them. I have always been a poor student. I too often confidently think “I can do that.” Some times this is rather unwise and turns out a dismal failure. Other times I hit lucky and it all falls in to place. But too often I just am bull-headed and obstinately keep trying to do something that’s not working.
A few days back I started on my new art project of collaboration with the Amandwe Support Group with enthusiasm. I chose the first 2 fabric landscapes and got down to prepping the wooden panels. Then came the time to start painting. Painting 1 started off fine but on day 2, I hit a snag. It just wasn’t working. I scraped, I painted over, I changed colours. All I managed to do was dig myself deeper in to the mire. Painting 2 sat there prepped and ready to go but I ignored it. I was getting myself in to a funk after a few days of this.
Then I set off on my daily walk with my friend and fellow artist, Rosemary of http://livecheapmakeart.com . As we strode around town, I told her about my problem with the first painting and my excitement about my idea for the second one. Rosemary looked at me as if I‘d lost my marbles and said, “Anne, why don‘t you just leave the first painting alone for a while and start on the second. You‘re excited about that one.” Well, hello and duh me. Later at home I started telling Lee the same saga, and before I got to Rosemary‘s pearls of wisdom, he looked at me all long-suffering like and said, “Anne, drop the first one for a while and do the second one. There‘s no order you have to do them in.”
So, why couldn’t I see this simple fact days ago. I’d got myself so focused and obsessed with the first painting, I couldn‘t see the forest for the trees. If I’d asked a few days back for feedback, I’d not have wasted those few days of obfuscation.
So, please feel free to stop by during the next couple of months and see how I’m progressing. I’m all fired up about this project but I obviously need a someone “with clear eyes” to whack me upside the head and say, “What are you doing?“ A good dose of reality on occasion is not a bad thing.
I never make New Year’s resolutions but I think I will try a tad harder to ask for advice on how to do something, instead of just doing it. It might eliminate the all too often “OOPS,” that follows. But, I am calling the project, Vukusakhe” because, well, I do usually just stand up and do it for myself.
Wishing you and yours a peaceful and prosperous 2012 - it’s going to be a grand art year!

FYI : I’m chronicling the progress on my gallery face book page and am starting a page on my website about it…if you’re interested, go to http://annejenkinsart.com  or http://facebook.com/annejenkinsartgallery

the Art of doing good

Helping someone in need boosts the spirit. Helping lots of people in need really gives you a kick. It’s especially sweet when they are helping themselves and all you are doing is giving them a hand, or acting as cheerleader. I am hardly in a position to hand out largesse, financially or of the great wisdom variety. I’m pretty much living hand to mouth - albeit happily - I may not have much materially but that doesn‘t bother me at all. I am very rich in love, family and friends.
But what I am doing feels extra special. I am talking about The Bag of Hope project. I’m not trying to blow my own trumpet here - I’m not doing this on my own. Lee, my sister, Ruth, and her friend, Maurean, are involved and all the wonderful, cheerful characters that make up the Amandwe Support Group in KwaZulu Natal, South Africa. We are truly a grassroots organization.
It’s primarily women helping women. We are nearly all women - except for Lee and a couple of other males involved. The story behind the project is this:
A group of unskilled women in rural Kwa-Zulu Natal, formed a support group for those living with HIV/AIDS, especially the orphaned children. But with a lack of skills, their problem was how to make some money. They lack skills but not determination. They believe in “Vukuzakhe“, Zulu for “Wake up and do it for yourself.“ They formed the Amandwe Support Group - Amandawe is the area they live in.
They are learning to sew and embroider, tutored by Ruth. They produce little fabric landscapes or pictures made from donated handmade and dyed fabric and thread. Ruth’s friend, Glenda of Amafu Fabrics, donates this glorious mountain of colour. Each picture is different and charmingly simple. Some depict African life, some are whimsical, others are embroidered over the hand-dyed fabric. They send the landscapes to me. Once here, Lee irons them on to canvas tote bags. I set up a website, face book page and the bags sell for $30 at my gallery. All profits go to the group.
The group think big - they participated in a community center to provide education, support and material help for the needy. They run a soup kitchen and feeding program for the little ones, a portion of the money from these bags goes directly to the soup kitchen. This is a safe zone for the children.
It is very heartwarming. But the thing that really amazes and enthralls me is to see how the ladies in the group have grown in confidence and artistic ability. When they started they made these little simple landscapes. We sold them. They made bigger and better landscapes - we sold more. They blossomed. Now the landscapes are more complex. They are still charming, emotional, funny and beautiful. The ladies quite rightly take great pride in their achievements. They are making money, “with my own hands,” and this modest sum means an enormous amount to each and every one of them. Not to mention the children they care for.
There are now similar projects in the U.K., Canada and Australia working with the group. A couple of the ladies have made and sold their own bags. They are fighting the odds and making progress and are more successful ever year. Go to the website and face book page (click LIKE of course) and see what we’re doing. thebagofhope.com

One of the latest landscapes for The LadyBug Shop here in Milford. Landscape by Elsie.

Art has lifted them up and at the same time, lifted us all. My small part in all this makes me feel very good. How sweet it is when this happens. And what a pleasure!

Red Farmhouse in Delaware

Red Farmhouse in Delaware

I decided to have a longer break from seascapes so I don’t get old on them, when I say that I mean, so I don’t get tired of them. Lack of enthusiasm shows right up there on top of any painting. You can’t hide it, at least, I can’t. Now the marsh scene I did recently was such a disaster I didn’t want to go there. Failure twice in a row would be too much. A while back I saw a lovely old red farmhouse nestled in the far end of a field - the crops went right up to the house it seemed. The farmers in Delaware do not waste an inch of land. I guess because there’s not much of it! And the scene has been at the back of my mind.
So I did a 16x20 study of it to see how it worked. For some silly reason I cut the canvas in half with sky and land, instead of thirds or more of one or the other. It looks wrong but at least it was on this small study and not a big canvas. I cheated and cropped it for a nicer effect in the photo. I like the feel of it though, so I think I will do it big. The wheat fields really turned out well in this one - lots of movement.
I’m not painting for a couple of days to get some rest, and get some writing I need to do done. Then Lee has a day off Monday, so we’re going to explore the back roads of our new state and I’ll take the camera along. And I’ll be back with lots of ideas and scenes to paint on Tuesday. It’ll be so nice to have the break!
Just hope this drizzly rain goes away, not that it matters that much but it would be nicer to visit the cool backroad bars on a sunny day!

Discovering Delaware ... or Canvasing Delaware

Fallow Field in Delaware

     The countryside around Delaware constantly reminds me of Holland - flat, tranquil and rural. Good biking country. And it’s lovely in its sparseness - it gets all moody with various marshes and wildlife reserves. There are fabulous beaches showing off big dunes and miles of sand, but some of the inland vistas are breathtaking for their sheer simplicity. This is a very small state but somehow, and unlike Holland,  it seems to have a big sky. I guess it’s the flatness. I think of big sky in Africa or Montana or Nevada. Not the East Coast - and here’s little Delaware with a BIG sky. Delaware is also changing the way I paint - and I just love it when that happens! A “new” always gets the creative juices flowing like nothing else - the sheer excitement of discovery.
     During my life as a professional artist, there’s been nothing subtle about my use of colour - tons of crimson, strong yellows, orange etc. Hardly any blending… just wham! Straight out of the jar. Now I suddenly find myself blending and lathering on layers of whites, soft blues, sweet greens, olive greens - only adding just a touch of red here and there. It just sort of happened, I didn’t think about it. And, strangest of all, it feels so right. Just as strong colour seemed to work before, now soft light is in.
     No doubt I’ll go back to strong colours every so often - I’m from Africa, it’s in my soul. Just like whenever I dance to African music, I wiggle my butt and yell “Ehh-yeh!” Just like whenever I hear a penny-whistle, my whole body starts to vibrate.
     I’ve decided the first show I have here is going to be called, “Canvasing Delaware,” (with thanks to my old New Orleans friend, Patrick Burke - wordsmith supreme - for suggesting titles.) The paintings will chronicle my introduction to my new state. I am so enjoying thinking of which scenes to paint, or seeing a scene and thinking “Well, if I leave that out ..” or “just use that section…” I have always enjoyed painting vignettes more than the whole, so this dear wee State’s topography suits me well. I was looking at a field and remarked to Lee, “I’ll just use that bit, make it smaller perhaps,” and Lee, typically American, replied, “Anne, you can’t make Delaware any smaller.” Sometimes I think there’s a bit of Texas in them all!
     There’s a field near here that’s lying fallow right now and there are a couple of scraggly old trees on the side. The small space is so sparse, open and inviting, it tricks you in to thinking it is huge and you could get lost in it. This is the 12x24 study I did for it, and I’m not sure I will do this one bigger. In it’s case, I think the small, long canvas captures the spirit of the place.