Stripping of the Bark

Sonya called, and she had been on my mind. I said I felt like a bad friend for not calling sooner. She said, "You are not a bad friend, you are doing the work that makes you and others come alive, and that's what you need to be doing."

With age I have lost some of the joyous confidence, that I now realize came from a certain degree of oblivion, that I relied on to make friends, make art, get boyfriends, and forgive myself for bad decisions. With this collection, I'm realizing, that I'm mourning the loss of that innocence and confidence. I ache with insecurities and I hate the moments I become aware that my actions have weight, that I may piss someone off, or let someone down.

Once again, it's down to the wire, and I'm struggling with the work, the doubt creeps in. I wonder if the struggle is part of the stripping of the bark, to get to the honesty. In making art, we can't just float along on the surface of ourselves and expect anything good to come out.

I've been listening to a lot of Gillian Welch. Her voice comforts me and I sing along while I paint alone in the woods. Her songs remind me to take my time with the emotions, even when they include fear, regret, or weakness.

In all that, there is goodness too. Even if just the common ground that is exposed when someone dares to lay it bare. Like Gillian and so many others have done... like I am trying to do.

Moments in the Studio

A tabletop in the studio is covered in books that were given to me by Frank over the years. Zebra, Chair, Scissors, Monster... all things that inspire me. The magnolia pod is from the tree outside, and the beautiful trim I got at a market in Berlin.

One of the lists that founded the title of this Fall Collection, "The Clearing"


A thunderstorm today... seen from the 3rd floor balcony at my studio in the woods. I hauled my easel and paints up there and stood out as close to the rain as I could to paint. Days like today are exactly why I moved out here. When the hail started hitting the tin roof, it was like a song in my heart.

Preservation of Tangibility

I sometimes worry about the fate of my life's work in terms of it's singularity, originality and analog appeal. Creating and selling original works of art one by one hardly seems the path to automation and easy money.
Tonight, reading Garden and Gun magazine with a little dinner I made in my new home/studio/cabin/treehouse, I find the story on Wendell Berry to be the "words I needed to hear" in, among other parts, how it closes with Wendell's plans for a Society for the Preservation of Tangibility. (see photo) Tangible: that which has actual form and substance. Tangibility is precisely what I love about creating my work. It's precisely the reason I left my design desk to stand at the easel and sit at the sewing machine! I feel invigorated by the re-discovery of this simple word... tonight, at the dinner table, after listening to American Routes on the radio. Amen. It is with renewed pride I look forward to returning to that easel in the morning, to abandon the worry of automation or futures, and finish this new collection. I invite you all to behold (and hold in your hands!) these paintings in complete analog form at my down-home corner store show on October 8 in New Orleans.

Shiny and Bright

Anthropologie New Orleans recently celebrated their one year anniversary in our beloved city. I was happy to donate this original stitched word mini-quilt art "Star Light" which sold in their silent auction, raising funds for local effort Edible Schoolyard. A handful of talented local artists participated by donating artwork and leading workshops in their craft. The in-store festivities were indeed brightened by Pimm's Cups and music by the Thelonious Monk Institute Ensemble. Cheers to many more Anthropologie birthdays in New Orleans.

People to Watch

I am honored to be named a "Person to Watch" by New Orleans Magazine. Already bought extra copies for my momanem. :)

Good News

It worked. I'm back "home" and so happy to have taken the long way again. A felled branch in the drive has made a new tabletop friend by the typewriter and luckily, the "ah-ha" moments have happened. The lists are being typed and the sketches are forming in the clearing after this storm. Door open again,
Rebecca