The art of life and farewells

In February I mentioned a family member was not doing well. His funeral was held Wednesday. It was a sad, joyous, weepy farewell. He would have approved of the vast amounts of wine and food consumed. He really would have enjoyed the big bunch of balloons his grandkids released as they shouted “Goodbye Oupa.” I wish I could have been there but I sent him bon voyage thoughts from many miles away. A memorable character who loved his family fiercely and gave us all happy memories and lots of good belly laughs. Hamba gahle!

Filling in colour with oil pastels 

I am all about whales and sharks at the moment. I’m doing painting # 5 in The Vukuzakhe Project called “Mkhomazi” which is the Zulu name for the river near the Amandawe region - it means “The place of the whale cow” because whales give birth in the shallows. Nearby is the world famous Aliwal Shoal, listed amoung the top 10 dive sites in the world by Jacques Cousteau. You can dive amoung the ragged tooth shark - or as the locals say “the raggies” - without too much anxiety because the raggies are vegetarian. However, you need to keep an eye out for the odd visiting tiger shark, great white and the like, and then things can get quite exciting. It is a completely different mindset painting an underwater scene. I hope to convey the tranquility and dreamy state of their domain.

It got me mulling over conservation and respect for the natural world and its inhabitants. And particularly how bloody awful we humans are proving to be as stewarts of this great earth. The mass destruction of rain forests, drilling for oil in pristine wilderness, killing off whole species willy nilly seems to the norm. Don’t even get me started on slaughtering magnificent animals like the rhino for their horn for Asian medicine - which doesn’t even heal the things they think it does - it is disgusting and sickening. Hunting is another soap box for me - going out and killing any beautiful creature for sport is just beyond me.

So I will go back to painting and try not to dwell on the negative… think positive and hope Ma Nature doesn’t get too too mad at us.

The art of the week

I got some nice publicity this week with a big feature piece in the Milford Beacon... thank you to Christine Miller the arts reporter! Here's a link if your haven't seen it...
http://www.milfordbeacon.com/features/x1726851030/Artist-paints-scenes-of-home-from-Delaware-to-Africa

I finally decided painting # 4 in The Vukuzakhe Project is finished - "It's hard on GoGo" has been a long time is the making but I think the final edition is very atmospheric and the colours work well. GoGo means Grandmother and in this collaboration with Jabu's fabric landscape, she is barely coping with raising children left behind but her family are with her in spirit which gives her strength.

For some reason these are not photographing very clearly and look more washed out than they are in real life. Probably the light I've been photographing them in but they'll have to do for now. I am starting painting # 5 - the landscape is on the panel and I am working out how to paint it. In fact I'm thinking of doing 5 & 6 at the same time.

I am grateful and honoured to be selected to participate in the newest and most fabulous gallery in Rohoboth Beach - Anita Peghini-Räber Gallery opened with just a load of fun and antics last Saturday. The standard of art is very high and I met the other artists at the opening - they were all very nice and I enjoyed chatting with them. The gallery is at 49 Baltimore Ave and here's the link to their website http://rehobothart.com  - be sure to stop by when you're in the area and say hi to the lovely bubbly Anita and Denise.

The weather is so good right now all I really feel like doing is playing hookey and heading off on a road trip somewhere.... regret a look at my bank balance prevents this delightful course of action. Sigh

The Art of Spring

About this time of year everyone finds a new zest for life. Ma Nature puts on a glorious display, birds and critters set out doing the mating dance with the males doing some energetic strutting of their stuff and I feel I should go for long walks and just breathe in this fresh air. The dogwoods across the street from our apartment are a joy to behold  against their backdrop is the happily pink Victorian house now The Towers B&B.

Our morning coffee ritual watching the birds and bunnies in our side yard is more fun these days too. For a couple of weeks the holly tree was swirling with Cedar Waxwings as they raided the bright red berries - they did a good job, there's no berries left and the birds have gone on to other pastures. The fig tree beside the holly tree is glowing with little buds of sap green. The big old pecan tree isn't showing much yet, she's taking her time although I thought I detected a few newer bumps about to burst on her skeleton branches this morning.

And birds are braving the very interested felines watching over their feeder at the window - I thought they'd stay away but apparently the are made of stronger stuff and are not intimidated. You can see the still rather bare looking fig tree in the middle next to the boxwood bushes below the holly tree. We couldn't ask for a more wonderful view to enjoy in all the seasons.

My pansies in the entrance boxes have lasted happily since November and are partnering with the daffodils just peeking out. Soon I'll get out more colour and plant them at our entrance. My geraniums so loved spending the winter in the gallery I will leave them here. I'm taking cuttings to start new ones for the house entrance.

.

It's Easter weekend - time for a Greek style lamb with rosemary and garlic and fine wine. A time to rejoice in spring and all the critters who make it so much fun and so beautiful. What's not to like about all this glorious renewal?

The art of Travel

Ceiling mural in a section of the NYC Public Library

I enjoyed a special day in New York City with a friend last week - we weren't as organized as we thought, so we dithered about, visited a Cuban Art Center and saw some cool art, had a very good Indian meal in a hole in the wall place for $20 for both of us, a glass of wine in a nice gay bar with a humourous door man and visited the NY public library.
I had no idea the library was so ornate and grand. There were 2 photography exhibits on ... one quite disturbing and one pretty boring. But the building was the star.

We also spent a very interesting couple of hours with a dynamic, lively and curious bunch of ladies who are textile artists. It's inspirational to be around these ladies. We're country folk now, so big city gals are a kick every once in a whole. I needed it.

Unfortunately my second trip to NYC a week later didn't pan out so well. Lee and I were booked to take the Kent County bus up on Wednesday. We set off just before 6:30 a.m. for Dover to board the bus when Pearl, our trusty old Toyota - who NEVER ever breaks down - decided today was the day to tear up all her belts. As we were driving along Highway 1 no less. So, long story short, we got a ride in a tow truck back to Milford instead of the bus to NYC. And dropped a large number of $$ at a garage before heading home. No NYC fun lunch with an old friend. We were so disappointed.

But that's travel.One week it's all good, next it isn't. Sorta like life.

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 Caring

I’ve wanted to do more abstract work for a while, funnily enough health irritations (flu and now a gimpy back) have made it happen. I can’t work on the Vukuzakhe Project - canvas too big - with my back in this state, so I got out smaller canvas’ - 18x24 - and at the end of last week I started on a subject bubbling in back of my mind.
Now I have 2 “Within Ourselves” abstracts done. I used canvas, acrylic, burlap and oil pastels - decided to use a limited palette - more of a challenge and can be more dramatic. I joked on my face book page my gimpy back has delved in to some deeply Freudian areas, it’s showing in my art. And there is something in that statement - for a couple of reasons..

Within Ourselves

First, I have a family member fading fast, hard as it is we hope for quick and painless. At the same time good news from the younger generation, we will welcome a new member to the crazy clan. Another family member is slowly taking on more of the caregiver role. It got me to thinking on how life starts with you being cared for, you grow up, are free for a while and then you care for the next generation.
But with age comes another kind of caring - caring for your partner as they fade. Some fade from their body in to another place called Alzheimer’s, some fade battling disease. It doesn’t matter if it’s a man or a woman doing the caring, it is never easy but it  is done with love.
Second reason, I am pro-choice and pro-gay marriage. I’m getting fed up with right wing religious conservatives trying to ram their beliefs on abortion and marriage into repressive laws. For people who yell “government is too big, we need smaller government and less interference” they seem to miss the irony of their tunnel vision of right/wrong being imposed on everyone else. I wish they would shut up and go away. Sadly they won’t.

Within Ourselves II

I’m just stating facts as I see them. Abortion and marriage are strictly personal and no one else’s business. It’s just important to love someone enough to care under all circumstances.
I feel there’s too much false emphasis on eternal youth and money in today’s society. It’s a simple path of life - you are young, then you grow old. Money will not save you. Deal with it.
And if you are lucky, you are loved enough and you love enough to care. Warts and all. Nothing is more important.
That is what I’m trying to show in these paintings - the circle of love and caring, no matter who you love.

The art of the turn around

Flat is the only way to describe how I’ve felt the past 10 days - cottonwool head, achy joints, snotty nose and the deep rooted blahs dominated. I am so thoroughly sick of it all. I am normally one of the world’s big optimists …my ex used this description of me: give Anne a barrel of horse manure and she’ll dig around in it saying “there’s got to be a pony in here somewhere!” And I’ve always felt it’s far better to be optimistic than permanently gloomy about things. So, it’s no surprise not feeling well is not one of my strengths, if you can call it that.
This morning as I sipped my tea in bed and watched the light change over the river walk, with Geordie giving me a running commentary on bird and squirrel activity outside the window, I pondered what to do to get myself back in top spirit. Do something different was the decision.
The creative process takes a dive when you’re down, so to keep things going I’ve been doing the boring prep work for the Vukuzakhe Project - bonding the plexiglass dowels to the wooden cradled panels, gessoing - and more gessoing. So much so I’ve been looking at the gesso with a jaundiced eye. No gesso today I determined. No something ‘prep’ oriented.
I walked in the studio back door and immediately started hauling out one of the panels, taking off the protective cover and placing fabric landscapes on it to start thinking what to paint. Wait! Isn’t that what I said I would not do?
Then I fired up my laptop and checked out things. Got a wonderful boost with a nice article on the arts in Kent County by Pam George in a very cool magazine, Delaware Today,
http://www.delawaretoday.com/Delaware-Today/March-2012/Arts-and-Entertainment-in-Kent-County-Delaware/
And a mention in a couple more in the series…
http://www.delawaretoday.com/Delaware-Today/March-2012/Kent-County-Guide/ 
This cheered me up no end!

And now I’ve decided I will paint something today - but it won’t be the Project art. Maybe what I need is a little “and now for something completely different.” Okay, I know, short attention span and all that, but it can do your psyche good to do an about turn on occasion. So - voila - here is the start - it will be an abstract -I stuck a piece of burlap in to the paint to add to the texture. The poor cut piece of burlap was looking lost and forlorn since I didn‘t use it for the Vukuzakhe Project, so I slapped it this one.
I just had a visit from a new friend, who cheered me up 100% more. I’ll be skyping with another friend soon, ditto cheer up. And tonight we go to the theatre - our local Second Street players are putting on ‘One flew over the Cuckoo’s Nest‘. I personally think a comedy would be cheerier for gloomy February, but what do I know. But it doesn’t matter - I’m happy now!!!
A good day can wipe out 10 days of glumpf easily.

no blog week

the new postcard to send out in advance...

 My apologies for not writing my weekly blog... stuff got in the way. Ucky scratchy throats, cottonwool heads, snotty noses and achy joints are to blame. I went down with it middle of last week - not too too badly - for which I am most grateful. But then Lee got hit Friday. He got it much worse than me and looks awful still. He must have been REALLy feeling low - he missed the Superbowl party and stayed home in bed! So I went with another date ...his wife wasn't interested in the game.... remember the old song, "Love the one you're with ...?"  heh heh. So anyway - that's my excuse and I'm sticking with it. I will write another cheery blog later this week.
But just a heads up - I will give a presentation on The Vukuzakhe Art Project, and The Bag of Hope, to the Jaycees Dover chapter on Monday, February 13. The group meets  at 6:00pm at Fraizer's on the Waterfront at 9 E. Loockerman St. in Dover. I will have a couple of the completed pieces to display and discuss at the meeting. The Jaycees are The U.S. Junior Chamber Emerging Young Professionals group. Call Rachel Dunning (302) 670-7666 for more information on the Jaycees.
See you next week, and thanks for listening

The Art of Change

Another new place to live ... again

New experiences, new languages, new countries, new friends, new lives are not unknown to me, nor do I fear them. I have dealt with a lot of change in my life. So much so I sometimes need to smacked upside the head to notice change.

Not one to need a lot of security, I move from place to place with ease. I immediately explore my surroundings to get a sense of place and settle down to enjoy it. I love finding a new place to settle in, put my few possessions about and make it a home. It doesn't matter if the country drives on the left or on the right... either way I hop in a car and drive. I don't seem to need an adjustment period. Nor do I have a fear of driving anywhere. Whether it's the chaos of Istanbul, Cairo, Rome, a peaceful drive in rural Delaware or the vast, empty fascinating distances of the Western U.S. I'm going somewhere and I'm happy.

It's so easy to talk about taking things to another level or changing the way we do things. When I started thinking about this Vukuzakhe Project I'm doing with the Amandawe Support Group in South Africa, I blithely thought... it'll take my art to a new level. It took me a long time to work out how I was going to do the paintings, and I wasn't at all sure it would even work.

So what is this new level I'm taking my art to? Is it a big step in another direction? No one can accuse me of sticking with one style. I seem to change style or subject at the drop of a hat, or just by being in a new location. And that's when the smack upside the head helps.

A few days ago I realized I really have taken my art up to another level this time. I seemed to struggle with the first one, and then suddenly it was clear to me what I had to paint. So I started the paintings and now they seem to paint themselves. By that I mean - the idea behind the painting comes to me with time. I stand and stare at the wooden panel with the little fabric landscape placed on it. And I wait for it to tell me what to paint. And that's why I struggled with the first one. I didn't give it time to tell me what to do, I was trying to push it out when it wasn't ready. Or I wasn't ready to accept it yet. I guess I was trying to treat it the same why I have treated change all my life. Face it head on and dive in. My art has finally smacked my head enough for me to realize I need to think about it and let it perculate. It will come to me.

I'm quite beside myself with happiness at this knowledge. I believe this has taken my art from being "just a pretty picture" to something with meaning. I'm not knocking pretty pictures, the world sure needs them. I now know my Women of Courage series was the start of this change, I just didn't realize it. Now I'm feeling all grown up and more mature as an artist - and I still have SO much to learn. Gotta love and live change! Isn't life grand?

The Arts in Education

I got to pondering on writing this morning. It is another art form I love - I love to write, I love to read. And I am lucky enough to have earned income from my writing over the years, although it‘s taken more of a backseat to my painting the past 9 years. What got me today was an interesting article on poetry in the Washington Post’s Sunday magazine - I read while I ride my stupid exercise bike… if I didn’t read, I’d not ride it. See how good reading is for you?

What caught my attention was how a young kid called, to paraphrase, “a bad one,” turned his life around because of poetry. This immediately brought out one of my soapboxes, not to mention my hobby horse riding high on top of said soapbox. Art is essential in education.

Naturally headstrong and rebellious, who knows where I could have landed up if I hadn’t had marvelous, strong and passionate teachers who got the meaning, and an appreciation for literature, poetry, painting, dance, music and debate through my obstinate and silly teenage head. I should be offering up a daily thank you to Suzie K., Petal,  Mrs. Crewe and many more at my wonderful boarding school, Epworth in South Africa. The school and I both survived those years with good humour and my great respect for the school, it’s teachers and staff remains undimmed. Just for the record, my parents were a very strong influence in this regard well before I went to boarding school - my schooling reinforced what they valiantly tried to get through my thick, independent but unformed mind.

Art, in it’s many forms, is not for the sole benefit or understanding of a liberal elite. Far too many idiotic politicians use this argument as they slash funding for the arts in schools. All it does is make the politician look more ignorant. Americans for the Arts have a wonderful long list of why art in education is essential - they put it much better than I can. Check it out at
http://www.artsusa.org/get_involved/advocacy/funding_resources/default_005.asp 

If politicians would quit their posturing, putting up road blocks and generally behaving badly and instead actually look to, and implement, solving problems, they would make a good start by funding art in education again. It would go a good distance to bring back civility to modern life. We sure could do with it. Maybe we should send every politician in the world a poem to read - entitled “Art is essential in education.” It’s a simple truth.

To be balanced, I am proud the State of Delaware recognizes the importance of art in education. Our First Lady gave an excellent talk at the Arts Summit 2011 on the subject. Here’s a short but reaffirming video from the DE Div of the Arts… http://www.artsdel.org/ArtsEducation/default.shtml 

And finally - on to an update on my ‘Vukusakhe’ project : Painting 1 is complete. Painting 2 - a much more haunting subject than the first traditional village scene, is going very well. I prepped Painting 3 and start on it today maybe. 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 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 staying fresh

Getting ready -  part of my messy set of watercolours

We woke up yesterday morning to a small dusting of snow on the ground, how pretty everything looked - especially the holly tree and whatever the bush is next to it. The dark green lightly covered in white with the red berries bursting out, lovely! I got all bundled up and left for the gallery. KahPOW! The white stuff doesn’t seem so cute outside. I am, after all, a girl from the tropics.
I think with calm tranquility, and aiming to be rational, it is now January 2012 and we have at least 2 more months of inclement, cold weather. So, no use fussing about it - I’ll admire it from indoors as much as I can until spring, without whinging. I hope.
My fingers aren’t quite as forgiving of the frigid air, so I am having to work up enthusiasm about painting in the cold. Oh, I do have heating in the studio but my fingers say, “So what? it’s bloody cold outside.“ To try and overcome this, I am approaching the studio with caution this first week of 2012. I spent most of Wednesday working on my Vukusakhe project. To my relief, it all started falling in to place without reason. Last week it fought me. So I’ll happily take this as a good start for the New Year.
My artist friend, Rosemary - see http://livecheapmakeart.com - announced her aim this year is to do a small 8x8 painting every day she is in the studio, no matter what. At least that’s her plan. I believe she will stick with it. I have other artist friends, like the exceptional talent and an old school friend, Carol Lee Beckx in Australia - see http://www.carolleebeckx.com/home  aiming for the same ideal. I think it is quite an inspiring idea. So…I am now thinking perhaps I should do something similar. It would be good discipline if nothing else, and Lord knows, being disciplined isn’t one of my strong suits.
Each canvas is 36x24 for my project, not huge but big enough. I like painting large, but perhaps doing an additional small one will be a good challenge. It could be on any subject not the project. It's a good way of keeping me 'fresh.' It will keep my mind from cramping, by becoming overly focused on one thing and therefore also draining my creative juices. Also I could do some in watercolour for a change, to mix things up. If I’m honest with myself, I doubt I’ll manage one a day. I think I’ll join the quest but limit it to 3 a week. Rosemary and I can compare notes as we stride around town during our walks. Hope I can keep up with her painting! So, without further ado, I shall paint a small one today.
FYI : 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

Holiday jollies

I will not blog this week - I think a simple "Have a wonderful celebration" ... for whatever you celebrate ... suffices, and may we all find peace, health and happiness in 2012.
Thank you for following and reading my blog. I hope you will continue to do so in the New Year and help spread the word.
Peace and love!

The art of simple happiness

Geordie approves of the new fire place

We recently had a gas fire installed in our apartment. It’s in the lounge which is the middle of the 3 rooms. The idea epitomizes cozy during snowy winter days - to sit in front of the fire, a glass of red wine in hand and both cats curled up… sheer bliss. The first day it was snugly fitted in to place, the man said, “Burn it a while to clear the oil off.” It wasn’t a very cold day, so five minutes after I lit the fire, I was boiling hot and then the fire alarm started going off. I ran around banging the damn alarm every time it went off (regularly) and opened all the windows. I felt like I was Nixon - fire on and the air conditioning going at the same time. Eventually peace reigned but the place was a furnace. This fire is hot stuff. We haven’t had to leave it on for long periods before the apartment is toasty. At last we’ve got a touch of colder weather - this morning Lee lit the fire and it warmed the house, but just comfortable, not heat stroke stuff. How happy we were!
Over breakfast Lee - who is puppy dog happy at having 2 full days off - and I talked about what to have for dinner. Pork chop cooked in garlic, orange zest and juice was the decision, green salad and half an avocado. The cats chased shadows and gobbled up their treats - the l-lysine Chaussettes needs to control her feline herpes, Geordie’s brewers yeast for fleas - medicine to anyone else, they just don’t know it.
I drank my coffee and I thought about going to work on my new art project. It is a challenge, an excitement and I keep thinking about it - ways to improve it, change my mind a hundred times about some aspect of it, whoop with joy at the thought of it -  how happy is that?
All this deep thinking so early in the day? But it set me off on a tangent, what is happiness? An artist friend of mine, Bob Hart, did a fabulous series called, “The Missing Letter.” I am delighted to own one of these masterpieces - we traded art.  The series is a fascinating look at mankind. Each painting featured string figures - mostly without arms, an animal or 2 and the alphabet with a letter missing. The idea is most folks keep saying, “If only I had ….., life would be better.” What they don’t realize is if you have your loved ones, your animals, your home and your health, you have everything you need. The lack of arms symbolized how people don’t know how to ask for help. His website is http://www.bobhartart.com/
I have everything I need. I have led an extremely rich life. I don’t have money but I have traveled all my life. I’ve lived through extraordinary times, lived in fascinating countries, made steadfast friends of all nationalities, faiths and colour. I have my loved ones, my animals, home and health - and the cherry on top, I do what I love to earn a living.
And, even if my home is a small 3-room apartment, I now have a fireplace to sit in front of and drink a glass of red wine. Ain’t life grand? The Roman writer, Syrus, said, “No man is happy unless he believes he is.” I guess that can apply to women as well?

The Art of Collaboration

Some of the tools I'll be using, oh my, me and a drill?

Collaboration, or working together, dominates my mind these days. I am about to embark on a brand new art project with the Amandwe Support Group in KwaZulu Natal & The Bag of Hope http://TheBagofHope.com. They have done their bit and now it’s all up to me. It’s a pretty scary, and exciting, prospect. And I am so looking forward to immersing myself in this over the next few months.

But this working together towards a common goal got me thinking. I am very big on working with other artists, businesses or anyone really, to further my art/business/town. I think some of it stems from going to all-girls boarding schools at a young age - the first time I was 9, it was not a match made in heaven, so the less said the better. Then at the ripe old age of 11, I went off to another school. This was much better, my older sister was already there and a number of my friends from my small town were also enrolled. I was as happy as can be - made life long friendships and learned strong values and liberal ideas.

We all also learned at a young age that we could achieve success at whatever exciting venture someone dreamed up - good and bad - if we worked as a team. One girl distracts the authority figure and rest sneak off on a daring adventure. We had a high success rate, but naturally, some failures as well. Just like real life. We never lost our individuality, nor the strong influence our parents exerted on us, but boarding school sure shaped my life in more ways than I could have realized at that tender and wonderfully, silly age. And since the launch of face book, I am reconnecting with many of my class mates from school - now strong, independent ladies living all over the world. What a treat!

Americans pride themselves as being highly individual characters and sometimes have trouble seeing the benefits of working as a group - Congress springs to mind as an extreme example. However, we’ll not go there. In this economy, I think it’s pretty obvious - for instance, I can’t afford hundreds of dollars on adverts, but if a group of us get together and each put in a small amount, we can advertise. Or if we can show people outside our area all we have to offer in one place, we become a much more interesting prospect. And so on … I’ve never felt I’m in competition with other artists. We each have our individual, unique style - and everyone has different preferences and tastes - and there’s the obvious conclusion, we’ll all get a slice of the pie. If there are different things to see, different styles of art to buy, concerts to attend, nice places to eat and sleep - more people will come.

So, meet the Art Ramble in Milford - our permanent, self-guided studio tour. Here we’re clustering our art-related businesses, listing events in town and a map to show how everything is in walking distance. Please check out the website and bookmark it! And let me know what you think… feedback’s always good  http://artramble.com

Meantime, while the Art Ramble is getting built up and we all promote each other with enthusiasm, I am working on my African collaboration art project. Do stop in and see how I’m doing whenever you can. I’m like a pup wagging it’s tail with happiness and excitement. It will take my art and imagination to new levels. I always did love a challenge!

The art of music

What I would give to play music, or even be able to sing would be nice. I open my mouth to yodel a few notes and kids run screaming to their mothers. It might seem strange for someone who has the gift of creating art well enough to make a living from it, to envy another talent. I appreciate, and am grateful for, my talent. It’s just I think music is a gift to lift the world.
You can be sitting in a plush state of the art concert hall listening to a world-class orchestra or lying in a sleeping bag on a rough old Greek ferry listening to someone strum their guitar, and the feeling is the same. It lifts your spirits, enriches the whole experience and stirs every emotion.
I can still hear the young guy playing his guitar and singing softly to the stars one summer night way back in 1974 as I lay in my sleeping bag on the deck of a ferry bound for Greece from Italy. I eventually went back to live in Athens for six years and have lots of memorable Greek music moments. Not to mention the umpteen concerts I was lucky enough to go to while there, like Jose Feliciano or Van Morrison. But that simple guitar always comes back to me with a stirring of travel excitement.
Mention 4th of July and I go back to 1986 in Ibiza with Sasha. Lee and I were living on our 30-foot sailboat in the Mediterranean. Our celebration was a small BBQ on the rocky wall of a deserted, unfinished harbour when this large Russian clutching a bottle of vodka walked up. He asked politely what we were doing, then
announced he would join us for our 4th July BBQ regardless of the fact we hadn’t invited him. He grinned, “Russian, American, who cares. We can drink together.”
He ate the ribs and salads as he drank his bottle of vodka. We learned he was an opera singer from Moscow and, for some reason he never explained, had disgraced himself. He was wandering around Europe to console himself. The sun got lower, Sasha got drunker. He suddenly threw his head back and started to sing. My God, he hadn’t lied about his voice. It was powerful and magnificent. He sang for about 10 minutes. Then he stopped, had a swig and started weeping, “Oh! poor Sasha, poor Sasha,” he wailed before blabbering in Russian for a minute or two. He took another swig before singing again. The singing was heart stopping. Our own private opera as we watched the soft twilight fade to moonlight on the gentle sea swells. The weeping and wailing added to the atmosphere really. So it continued for some time then abruptly he got up and staggered off. We never saw  him again. But what a gift he had given us that 4th July on the rocky edge of a ‘nearly-finished’ harbour wall. Pure magic.
Every country has a unique musical tradition. No one can say “thank you” the way the Zulu’s do, they sing to you. I worked with the Amandwe Support Group a couple of years ago on landscapes. Afterwards they made tea and we sat together. Then they said, we will sing for you. Even thinking about it brings tears. Singing is pure Africa and just hearing a snippet of it can make me homesick quicker than the thought of Africa’s vistas or the special scent of her earth.
My time in New Orleans was deeply involved in it’s music - and that’s why I wish I could join musicians and play or sing. I’m a huge fan of “Playing for Change,” watching their videos brings all those special musical moments back. And I do believe people can interconnect through music more than any other medium. It can make the world a better place if we let it, and if we really listen to it. And, damn, but it can just make you smile. I"ll always love music and the happy memories it brings. But I guess I’ll just have to keep painting unless some miracle happens!!
Listen to what I mean and get hooked. Go to http://www.playingforchange.com and follow them on face book at https://www.facebook.com/PlayingForChange

The art of being grateful

A big bunch of holly from the lovely big tree in our garden

It's just past the Thanksgiving celebration here in the USA. This is a holiday I adopted happily, and I cook up Lee's favourite's because he loves the holiday. We've had some interesting Thanksgivings over the years in various countries, making do with what we could find for the meal. Each one special, I should do a blog on that alone! Part of the tradition is to reel off a long list of things to be grateful for.
I have much to be thankful for - like this morning I Skype'd with my family in South Africa. My eldest nephew just had an operation, a success, but it was a relief to see his face and his lovely big smile and hear his delightful sly humour. Isn't technology a boon sometimes? But I don't understand how people can't get away from their electronic devices - they're connected 24/7/365. Ugh. I turn my phone off, my computer off. I think that's why voicemail and e-mail and facebook were invented - to walk away, and then walk back and check whenever you want to do so. I turned off my computer last Wednesday and didn't turn it back on until today, Saturday. Guess what? My e-mails were waiting for me, my facebook page gave me all the updates. My voicemail gave me my messages. The earth kept turning!
So, I am grateful for family, love, friends, health, cats and dogs who keep you grounded, and technology because it keeps me connected when I want to be connected. Oh, and VERY grateful for a glass of wine and good food.
I've been decorating the gallery for the Christmas season, it's early I think. However, it might be an art gallery but it's still retail. I'm also grateful for my gallery and the gift I have to make art. And the joy of making a living doing something I love. We've got big holly trees just outside our window in the garden - I walked past on my way to the gallery this morning, snipped off some and voila! I have an instant bunch of holiday cheer in a nice pottery vase.
And, I'm grateful for my dear Scots mother who taught me, "It' a great life, if you don't weaken!"

The Art of the Muse

My Africa, acrylic, burlap, canvas - ©2006 Anne Jenkins

When I was a small child in Africa I had an imaginary friend. I used to potter around having these very earnest conversations with her. I have no idea what her name was or if she even had one.
My godmother, a tough, funny lady from Yorkshire, was fascinated by this invisible friend. I would toddle around our two acres of garden and then off in to the woods chatting away to my imaginary friend and hardly aware of the entourage traipsing along behind me. Close to my heels was my dog, and whenever she visited, my godmother tiptoed close by, chortling happily. Ambrose, our night watchman, who had a special place in his heart for me, followed behind. He wasn’t instructed to, he just guarded me fiercely, nothing untoward would ever happen to his “nkosianne.”
When I grew older my family slowly forgot about my imaginary friend. Ambrose never wavered in his devotion. When I announced I was to be married, he traveled miles to come and inspect the husband to be while I visited home one weekend. He didn’t wax lyrical with enthusiasm. Perhaps I should have taken note, the marriage didn’t last.
Ambrose is no longer with us, hamba kahle my faithful Ambrose, but I am sure he is still guarding me in spirit, and no doubt shaking his head often.
But, I still talk to my imaginary friend. Only now I realize she is my muse. And I suppose she always was - she gave me more than fellowship as a tiny tot. She offered advice when I was going to be the world’s greatest ballerina at age eight, “why not?” and then as I kept growing taller and taller, She muttered, “Well, perhaps not.” She encouraged me to draw and experiment with colour, and slyly “do not keep inside the lines.” She practically held the pen and said “Write, damn it!” as I dithered over whether I could weave words together.
Muses are different things to different people. Some have real people or countries or cities. I have a non-existent friend/muse in my head. Thank goodness. It’s good to have someone else to argue with in your head, than just yourself. Maybe sometimes we have the good angel/bad angel thing going. Note to self, let the good angel win more often.
I don’t know if all creative people do this, but I can have long periods of what looks like inertia. I look as though I am doing nothing. But I am actually thinking a process through, or trying to work out how to do something, or what to do. Or I disappear in to fantasy land to see how it will all end up, or how I’d like it to end up.
All this in the mind experimentation is too much for one person, so an imaginary friend/muse is just what is needed. I’m glad I have had mine for so long.

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!