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 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 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!