Here you will find a few words, alongside the works.
Matriarch
To the woman I nicknamed with my uncle Wilde Rose, after one of her dish sets. But never dared tell her.
Dishes which were used to set the tables throughout an entire house (Küche, Wohnzimmer und Wohnstube) for Kaffee und Kuchen if the entire family was to be there. And then were washed and dried by hand.
To the woman who with a movement of her hand would let me know it was time to clear the table.
To the woman who taught me a guest should always be offered something to drink and their glasses should not sit empty. Yet, who would also tell you who could share a beer and who could not.
To the woman who put me in a stroller when I was an infant and cleaned classrooms as a janitor while my mother completed her contract with Lufthansa.
To the woman who turned off the water in an entire house while my sister was showering because she was wasting water.
To the woman who wouldn’t set a place at the lunch table for you if you slept past 11.
To the woman who pitted cherries, harvested and canned food. (I rarely ate produce from a grocery shelf during my childhood summer months.)
To the woman who would take a 20-30 minute nap on die Eckbank after cooking and completing the lunch dishes.
To the woman who once upon a time ran a small school supply shop out of an annex of her home.
To the woman who quietly told the stories of Germany over small boxes of photographs and albums.
To the woman who knew how to prepare a meal of game. And feed a large crowd off of the simplest of ingredients.
To the woman who would insist on playing another round of Skipbo or Rummikub until victory was hers. And watched you like a hawk, lest you make a false move.
To the woman who made pour over coffee since the beginning of time.
To the woman who told me my husband was ein guter Mann.
To the woman who expressed delight in how a cheeseburger had everything of the food groups in one. Alles ist dabei.
To the woman who would create a Klingelstorm of great magnitude on the mornings a flight back to the US would leave. Ringing her own home’s doorbell to make sure all were up and moving at 4:30 am to make it to the Frankfurter Flughafen on time because alarm clocks were not efficient enough.
To the woman who cared for my grandfather as diabetes took a toe and eventually a leg and knew what changes in sugar levels can do to a person.
To the woman who was her mother’s caregiver.
To the woman who kept her granddaughters while their mother flew home to bury their father.
To the woman who sat with me in the room and softly told stories as we watched my own mother leave the earth.
To the woman who watched Americans surround a household during a time of grief and finally understood why her daughter chose the States.
To the woman who had 3 girls of the 1980s and 90s visit each summer for 3 months every year with very American ways.
To the woman who kept us in check.
A New Song
A New Song
watercolor with gold leaf
18” x 24”
This painting will be part of the 2022 SPARK Invitational Exhibit in the West Gallery of Public Works Arts Center in Summerville, South Carolina September 23 - November 5, 2022.
It is a visual and personal reflection; representing all 2020 until this moment has held for me.
I want to describe all the minutia. The cracks and the solid ground. Grief and joy juxtaposed.
My observation of an approaching crescendo began on March 13, 2020. The word of the day in my German classroom was Hamsterkauf, describing the global hoarding of toilet paper which was underway.
By Monday, schools closed and virtual teaching began: as did an onslaught of polarizing opinions, politics, loss, fear, hot tempers, and uncharted waters to navigate through. And I learned, humanity is a fragile thing in a time of sound and fury. Tender in a forest of clanging and discordant words.
How long to sing this song?
Songbirds
Some of us hear them, others sight and name them. Whether it is the colorful plumes, birdsong or the winged flight in motion, their presence compliments a local landscape.
I feel it is the same with those individuals working or supporting the Arts; be it visual, literary or performing. An absence of these artists or advocates would leave a lonesome place.
These small paintings were created for the Florence Regional Arts Awards. It is with much gratitude that I celebrate the hues, song, and movement these individuals create, guide and bring to our community. May their stories continue to take flight and leave Florence a better place.
(A video highlighting the recipients can be found on the Florence Regional Arts Alliance‘s Facebook page.)
Reference Photo Attribution:
Chikadee:© Francis C. Franklin / CC-BY-SA-3.0, CC BY-SA 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0>, via Wikimedia Commons
Cardinal: Mike's Birds from Riverside, CA, US, CC BY-SA 2.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0>, via Wikimedia Commons
Painted Bunting: Don Faulkner, CC BY-SA 2.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0>, via Wikimedia Commons
Bluebird:William H. Majoros, CC BY-SA 3.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0>, via Wikimedia Commons
Robin:en:User:Mdf, CC BY-SA 3.0 <http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/3.0/>, via Wikimedia Commons
Wren: Manjith Kainickara, CC BY-SA 2.0 <https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0>, via Wikimedia Commons
from Start to Finish: 2021
2021 was a year of much work; yet it felt there was little to show. As the year wanes, I celebrate hidden processes. Quietly seeing things move from start to finish. Sometimes taking longer than expected but moving forward nonetheless.
This portrait is of local artist Robert Garey. This version is painted on Arches cold pressed watercolor paper. A second unfinished and hidden version, painted on Arches hot pressed watercolor paper, sits in my studio. I chose this subject matter to compare the watercolor surfaces in regards to ability to capture details. The lettering, glasses and ring particularly.
When I look at a finished painting, I see all my personal musings of a time as I worked. These paintings consist of more than pigment to me. For me this one, holds a portion of the fatigue and slowness, I felt moving through 2021. I painted slower, searched for the little details and read more. Some years are for hidden work, others are for the visible.
Selfie of the Artist
watercolor on paper
The quote below I read in September and “tend to your own knitting” was my quiet anchor as I navigated through the waves of 2021. Wishing you all a 2022 that ministers to you. Be your knitting hidden or seen.
“So tend to your knitting. You’ve got your hands full just taking care of your own life before God. Forget about deciding what’s right for each other. Here’s what you need to be concerned about: that you don’t get in the way of someone else, making life more difficult than it already is. ”