artist’s life

Yup, all things are connected

Posted on Updated on

Sometimes I’m reminded of how all things are connected, of how things that are right for you are drawn to you, what you need at any given time…it comes.

Lately, I’ve been working feverishly in my yard – creating new beds, planting new shrubs and flowers, spreading mulch, creating walkways with step stones. And while I’ve been working I’ve been feeling like I’m not accomplishing anything since I’m not in the studio painting. Ridiculous, I know.

Then I realized that this is my cycle. Every Spring when it starts to get warmer out, I get the urge to get outside and plant stuff, and ready my yard for hanging out in the summer. And it’s been gorgeous out! I’ve been able to be outside while the azaleas and dogwoods bloom and everything gets lush and greener.

And in doing all this compulsive digging, I feel as if I’m really getting to know this little patch of earth that I call my own. So far, I’ve unearthed an old metal toy car and two marbles; I’m sure there’s more goodies hidden just under the grass.

And then I come across this article in Brain Pickins about Derek Jarman and his gardening and how this creative gardening process helped him accept his fate, deal with his grief and it was beautiful and I completely identified with his efforts, his process in his garden… Here’s a link to the article: https://www.brainpickings.org/2021/04/04/derek-jarman-modern-nature-gardening/

And all things are connected. I might be working something out, even if I’m not conscious of exactly what it is. Or maybe I’m simply enjoying the hard work, the joy of getting my hands dirty, the time I have now to go wild and do each project that comes into my mind while I’m waiting for my next job, next opportunity. And soon I’ll feel the urge to get back in the studio. (Especially now that the garden I’ve planted looks perfect from my studio window!)

And a Shooting Star – a short (true) story by Kelly L. Taylor

Posted on Updated on

I’m worried about Mommy. She’s very sad now so I stay with my dad most of the time. But I know she loves me. And I go see her sometimes but she seems like she’s tired all the time and sometimes I hear her crying in her room.

Her fiancé died. I miss him. His name is Jeff. He was always so much fun. He showed me how to shoot a bow and arrow and taught me about trees on hikes through the woods on our favorite trails. We called him our own private forest ranger.

He was the smartest guy I knew. It seemed like you could ask him about anything and he could tell you about it. I guess it’s cuz he read a lot. He collected all these cool old books; I bet he read every one of them, too. He taught us how to find four leaf clovers. He was always finding them, It was like he was the luckiest guy around.

Jeff was an artist. He made the coolest things. He never yelled at me for touching them, either. He said if something broke he could just fix it cuz he made it in the first place.

He was always joking around. We used to play pranks with a whoopy cushion. He always seemed happy. He was always doing something and making things. So I didn’t understand at first why he was there one day and then he was gone.

Mommy said he was sick. She called it depression and alcoholism. She said he got really sad sometimes and it hurt him a lot and he finally found a way out of the pain. She said he killed himself and she understood why. I didn’t really get it, cuz I never saw him that sad. He must have hid it from me.

When my mom isn’t so tired sometimes we go on trips. We went to the beach. It was fun. We stopped at a diner on the way and had the best pancakes ever. It was a rainy day but the sun came out when we got to the beach and me and my brother played in the waves. Then we spread some of Jeff’s ashes in the water and we saw a cloud shaped like a moth. My mom was smiling.

One day we went to the mountains for a hike. Mom said it was the park she and Jeff went to when they first met. When nobody was looking we dumped some of Jeff’s ashes over the cliff. We did it secretly cuz we thought maybe people would be creeped out. We watched the ashes blow away in the wind, in the sunshine. We could see the trees and rocks below. My mom was smiling but I heard her sniffling, too.

The apartment is a lot quieter without Jeff. And we miss the burgers he used to cook on the grill. But For a while, after he died, we saw tons of rainbows and it was like Jeff was with us every time. That summer we saw lots of moths. I never saw so many moths before; every time we saw one it made my mom smile. And we were always finding four leaf clovers; it was like Jeff was still pointing them out to us.

I hope my mom is happy again someday. I don’t really know what to do for her so I just hug her and tell her I love her. She told me that one night when she was really really missing Jeff and wishing he was still here, she looked up in the sky and saw a shooting star! That made her feel a little bit better. I think it was Jeff telling her everything’s gonna be ok.

A Hurricane and a Pumpkin Ale Make a Gallery Hop Complete

Posted on Updated on

DelurkLogo72_180+highMyWorkatDelurk-KellyLTaylor

I recently joined Delurk Gallery, an artist run gallery in Winston-Salem, NC. Friday was the first opening reception that I participated in with them. The art district’s monthly Gallery Hop is on the first Friday of every month and Delurk has a new show each month with the opening reception coinciding with the Gallery Hop.

It was a rainy windy evening with the threat of hurricane Joaquin headed our way. Although the weather cut down on the number of visitors we had, it gave us Delurkers time to chat and get to know each other. What a great group of people! I’m really excited to be a part of it–an established gallery with a group of strong artists dedicated to a common goal, working together to make things happen. And they’re all making amazing artwork!

After the few dedicated Gallery Hoppers, undaunted by the weather, cleared out, we turned out the lights, closed up shop and decided to go have a beer upon the suggestion of a new friend and fellow gallery member. 

We headed down to Single Brothers, a cozy local pub. I was told that they’re known for their delicious mixed drinks and local beers on tap. We got our drinks and headed for a table out on their patio. Sitting outside under their curagated metal roof so engrossed in conversation over delicious pumpkin flavored drafts, we finally noticed the wind getting stronger, the rain pouring down harder and the temperature dropping; we decided it was time to bid farewell and go home.