Signs and Numbers

 Just like we have Thanksgiving day to be thankful, we have New Year's day to reflect on the shadow of our footsteps, and muse upon our future strides. It falls on a calendar juncture, at the peak of winter, after the solstice shifts us minutely towards the sun. "Winter," as Paul Theraux said, "is a season of recovery and preparation".

This is the 16th year I have been blogging. Some years I am more consistent than others- but last year was the worst with the lowest amount of (25) postings. It looks like I logged in as more of a book reader than a writer! The number of books read is 27. 

In order to navigate the economics of my age and culture, I have become an example of a successful artist having multiple diverse income streams. For the last nine months I have been helping catalogue, archive and exhibit a collection of art by the late Carl T Linden of Chicago. Starting last summer I ran two very inspiring 6-week art coaching workshops for artists across the country. I have, since October of 2021, taken a job at the Town Hall as the Town Clerk. All of this is fascinating and leaves less time for personal practices.  

For several years...5 or 6 now...I have been writing and illustrating an art history text, based upon my family tree and inspired by ancestors who were influencers in the art world, going back beyond the fifteenth century. The project is huge and each year the research ebbs and flows. What keeps me going are the odd signs and messages that I seem to find just when I need a push to keep going.  

Here are two very recent examples. 

1. While cataloguing Carl T Linden's portrait paintings, most of which are unsigned, undated, and untitled, I came upon one that was a double portrait with the names of the sitters written on the back! Imagine my surprise to find one was Frances Cowles, and the other was Betty Groves of Bensenville, IL. This discovery was early summer, when I was debating a late summer trip to DesMoines ,Iowa with my mother to research the Cowles side of my family. Frances turns out to be a distant relative- our great, great, great, great, grandfathers were brothers. She is also the mother-in-law of the artist I am archiving! I took that as a sign to make the trip to Iowa in the path of my great grandmother Florence Cowles. 

Frances Cowles and Betty Graves by Carl T Linden, oil on canvas

2. While researching the Meskwaki Tribe, because of my great great grandfather's direct hand in taking land to establish the incorporated city of Algona, I have been slowed by the dread of my ancestors homesteading settler mentality of "Manifest Destiny" and their hands in the outright stealing of lands of First Peoples. My great great grandfathers and their brothers fought in the Black Hawk Wars, which not only massacred the indigenous peoples, but led to our government embracing policies of extermination. I read the story of the last great Comanche leader, Quanah Parker. I am lining up images as reference sources for some illustrations. This photo from the Ft Sill Museum shows Parker with guests at his Star House dining room. The art on the walls are advertising posters. The one behind his head is for the Strauss Brothers of Chicago! It feels like a sign from my ancestors to get my studio, and set up the process for painting again!

Quanah Parker entertaining in his home near the Wichita Mountains and cache Oklahoma c. 1885/ photo from Ft Sills Museum

I conclude, that I will keep doing many things; keep painting and writing; keep trying to stay healthy with walking and yoga practices; keep in community even in times of isolation and keep showing up for the Muse. 

In that vein: Can I ask you: What would you like to hear more about on this blog? 

                                            What interests you and is pertinent to this space? 

If you write me an answer, I will mail you a work of art in gratitude. 

                                            Leave comments below.

The October Blur

I was here. I am here. But much of it feels a blur. We had open studios over two weekends, and family. With 20 other #arteastdutchess creatives we opened our spaces and invited people to explore and see the world a bit like we do. We invited my brother's daughter Natalie to exhibit, Michael's daughter Kylie to read her published poetry (the Fever Poems), and my sister Gwen arrived from France to read from her book.

wolf paintings in the barn

Pa (julian), Michael and Me- with art clinic barn in the background

Invite to the Author reading Saturday the 16th

My wall art calendars for 2022 printed: For the Birds

Wolf painting painted during the open studios: Sneak

Author reading: Kyle Gellatly, Gwen Strauss, Julian Strauss

For a while the barn showed what was inside

Natalie Strauss with studio visitor, artist Alexis Rockman

We had over 77 people visit each weekend. The interaction was so valuable. It is hard to produce art in isolation and then open wide the doors to anybody. But I found it strengthening and invigorating. I also got a lot of tips and recommendations from people. I am full of gratitude.

Alyssa Kogan article on our Amenia portion of the tour in the 10.5.21 Hudson Valley News

 

August happenings

 Hey there- You know the saying "when it rains it pours"?

 So many things have converged and I am proud to say that my art has been able to get out of my studio and into the world!

Right now I have works at the Hunt library in Falls Village, NY, at the Hammond Museum in North Salem, NY and at the Kent Library in Kent Lakes, NY! In addition, I was a panelist with 6 other fantastic artists last weekend at the Hammond. We were talking about emotion and creativity.  Next weekend I will be hosting a free workshop at the same museum on Collage and Processing Trauma. 

 

There are also some virtual shows I am proud to be a part of- such as the Wells International Covid-19 show, a member exhibition with ArtQueens and a culminating show (soon to be up) of my coaching clients, (accountability coaching for 6 weeks for artists, through the ArtsMidhudson.org). 

My day job continues to be herding and inspiring 7- 11 years olds at the community center's summer enrichment program. It fills my days with laughter, but does bring hobbley achy feet by the end of the day.

So I am actually reclining with a lemonade as I write this... getting ready to load the car with more paintings for more places really soon. Thanks again and always for your time and support. It is lovely to be able to make art, and even more fantastic to get to share it with others.

Don't hesitate to reach out for more information!

Cheers!

Fast, breathless, and catching up on the art scene

 Seems like the Covid quarantine days are really behind us. There is so much to do, so much scheduled... that I spend much of my time walking back and forth to the large wall calendar in the kitchen and consulting the scribbles that fill in every nook and cranny of the grid!

Michael Gellatly and part of his 14 foot painting

Last night, after a virtual opening of an Art Queen exhibition I was in, called "Inner Power",  Michael and I braved the torrential rains and headed 45 minutes away to Torrington, Ct, the Five Points Art Gallery for an opening of his in the 2021 juried show. It was a delight, and as the evening went on it was quite a crowd. Everyone eager to share about their work and connect with others. 

We made it to the bar and, with a cup of red wine, turned to look at the works. The first thing that stopped me in my tracks was a complex wall painting of Carol Taylor-JKearney (IG @caroltaylorkearney ), a reverse painting on glass of her studio space. As we read the painting we were joined by her gregarious husband. Carol's paintings are on the backs of windows with lots of additions, such as screen silhouettes and ritual candles.

Carol Taylor- Kearney

I enjoyed the symbolic narrative combined with rich detailed painting. Her husband is involved as the art handler and supportive cheer leader.  Nearby we were enamored by a sewn painting called, "Seeds and Pods", by Geri Hahn.

Geri.g. Hahn and paparazzi

Both her  (@geri.g.hahn ) and her husband were fascinating. She is an artist who identifies with her synesthesia and as the evening wore on we shared with her reactions to other works of art. I loved it when she stood in front of Michael's painting and said it sounded like a David Burn and it made her mouth water (a much abbreviated version of our actual conversation). 

Don Bracken

There was a lot of loud art and some quiet works- like Donald Bracken's clay and acrylic , "New dawn, and Marianne Petit's pop-up anatomical flap book. (Ig @ mariannerpetit )

Marianne Petit

I also loved the works by Erika Larskaya, Deborah Buck, Michele Cook, and Kim Carlino. Congrats to Nayana LaFond for winning the grand prize with her painting addressing native americans and domestic violence. She will be having a solo show at Five Points in the future!

Michael and the curious in front of his work

Calendar 2021

 I've been able to print a limited edition of 2021 calendars for purchase this year. Called "Better Late than Never" the thirteen art images are those of mine that transport me to different places. It seemed an obsession with the current lack of our ability to travel freely or make plans. The last year, with the Covid-19 virus, the fiery mean-spirited politics and the intense global weather, was one we all would like to see behind us. There were many silver linings to be sure, but I think it fair to say that it was hard for all of us. So let us start anew together!

The calendar sells for $25 (shipping USA included) and is easily purchased thru Venmo, PayPal or checks in the USPS. Email me directly for yours (tillystudio@aol.com) and be sure to include an address for shipment. 

They are shipped in hand printed envelopes carrying the inspiring images of flight.

January features an acrylic painting done on site, plein aire. It is a snow covered creek at the edge of our property. In civil war times, (1870's), the creek fed a saw and gristmill, upon whose crumbling foundations I sat when I painted this. I love the way the water eats at the snow bank, and in the spring and summer we watch for red efts and listen for frogs. It must have been a lot busier 150 years ago. Hard to imagine but great to try!

February features images from my dad's sugar shack- another place that for three weeks of the year, transports you to an alchemists den. He stokes the fire under the evaporator and after the sap boils we pour the sweet syrup into bottles!

These are just two of the 13 works of art included in this year's calendar. Supplies limited. Hoping to sell out by the month's end.

 

Why I collect art?

 To be totally truthful, I can't answer this.

But there is some history and a flash point I can share.

I've grown up among artists and always enjoyed walls, cabinets, shelves and lawns full of art. My parent's friends and my grandparents all had amazing collections or were creators themselves. So there was always lots of art around. Not only did it tone the atmosphere of the settings, but a surplus lay stacked under beds, lined racks in the basement and moldered in rolls up in the attic. 

Then there was my Selina Trieff moment. 

I was 20 years old and living in Boston, and it was a weekday I had off of my gallery job. Suddenly, with no plans, I took the Provincetown ferry out to Cape Cod. Strolling along the shops, I found my way into the Berta Walker Gallery where there was a show of oil and gold leaf portraits by Trieff, a mysterious artist who lived and worked from 1934 to 2015. Looking at the picture above, a painting I eventually had to buy, I had a visceral reaction: shivers on my limbs, a spinning in my head. I left the gallery for fresh air and spent the rest of the afternoon looking at other pieces of art in other galleries. No matter what I was looking at, this painting of Trieff's kept floating in front of my eyes! I had to have it. I had fallen in love. Negotiating with the gallery I set up a plan for installments and soon was able to bring her home. It has been almost 40 years and 4 homes since then. I love looking at it everyday. I wonder at the texture and the mark-making, the way her dark shape fills the frame. I wonder at the character, "what is she thinking?". I marvel at her hat. And the eyes! The eyes still look deep inside me and seem to ask me, "what are you thinking?"

This Trieff piece has been joined by a second one, given to me as a gift by one of my sisters, who also owns a delightful sleeping pig painting by Trieff.

Look at the attitude of that Goat!!

There is a movie, Their Lives in Art:Robert Henry and Selina Trieff, available for schools and institutions through Vineyardvideo.org, that I would love to see someday.

Storms and blessings as Tree stories continue

We had a terrible storm. 

The trees were thrashing about, their limbs flying through the air. Leaves and acorns and twigs covered the ground. I heard cracks and soft heavy thuds. Every tree around me completely defined the wind.

 After the storm passed, the next day was sunny and the air filled with sounds of chainsaws and generators. My Pa was out there removing huge trees off the fence lines and feeling gleeful about the winter fuel. 

Living on a farm in the country means you live in the company of trees. I continue investigating into my insecurities, by painting 100 trees....

I am tapping into my youthful artist within and reflecting on the models and memories of my artistic path.

This is an early memory of the first art club I belonged to. My dad started the Home Farm Artist's Association by placing his daughters and nieces on the hay wagon, with a can of crayons, while he worked the fields. We drew all day, side by side, eeking out our own interpretations of the landscape, and mounted shows in the evening for our grandparents and their cocktail party friends to enjoy.

Such is the life and the good foundations of an artist's family. I feel blessed.

Rollercoaster love affair

As much as I love trees, (being in them, under them, and surrounded by them), I have found my desire to draw them meets constant resistance.

This started in 2nd grade. I had just finished painting the Christmas tree for the class holiday mural and stepped back to assess it with my beloved teacher. She leaned in and said, "you really don't know how to paint trees, do you?" I had, in my defense, been turning the brush this way and that for texture, but I guess it did not translate.

The shock of that exchange has lived inside me for all these years. When students ask me to demonstrate a tree in paint, I can do it, but often there is an echo inside my head that wonders if they will catch on and see that I "really don't know how to paint trees."

It's hard not to paint or draw trees when you do a landscape, or create a place. Being a fictionalist, my paintings often illustrate a real setting and trees often sneak into the frame. My trees grow out of small gestures, blurred as if my reading glasses had failed me in clarifying the languages of limbs and leaves.

Then in college, my professor declared that I must eliminate green from my palette. Apparently green paintings are unsuccessful and never sell. So my greens come in shades of purple and ochre and pyrollian orange.

So I am starting this project of painting close to 100 small paintings of trees at the ripe age of 59 in order to move through the critics, the ghosts, the self-talk, and the comparisons. I hope to explore different ways to convey the importance of trees and I know it might take close to 100 times get it right.

I hope you can join me when I present my tree stories going forward. Thanks for looking.

Tilly

Coronavirus Shadow is as Terrifying as Breugel's Triumph

Triumph of Death by Bruegel ca.1562

When I think of the Coronovirus leaping around the globe and adding to the daily death count, I think of one of the most terrifying paintings in history, the Triumph of Death, an oil-on-wood-panel painting, created in 1562. It has something, like this virus, of everyone’s worst nightmare. Set along a coast in a village with commerce, the scene looks like a premonition of hell. Flames and smoke dot the horizon. It’s an eco-horror. There isn’t a sign of any green life in the landscape. Trees are being chopped down. The land is scorched and rust colored. A bloated fish gasps on the shore. The painting is of a jumbled panicked populace surrounded by almost quaint little scenes of victims stuck in torture contraptions, and coffins sinking into the mud in the surrounding fields. It looks like the cursed forecast of what we can expect if the stores run out of medical masks, or you are stuck in an airplane full of coughing aliens.

Not enough is known about Pieter Bruegel the Elder, the artist from the Netherlands who worked in the 1500’s. No one knows his birth date, but the time he was registered in an art guild (1551) to his death (1669) he executed 40 paintings and 60 prints. This particular painting is hung at the Prado Museum in Madrid.

In The Triumph of Death, the hysteria is loud and panoramic. Men, women, babies, the rich, the poor, the laborer, the gamblers, soldiers, monks, and kings, are all tormented and terrified. Skeletons arrive in massive numbers and outnumber the living. They arrive on boats and by horseback. They interrupt meals, disrupt commerce and dismantle forts. They amass an army, creating a wall of coffin-shaped shields.  They pull wagons piled high with skulls, trampling over victims, and herding crowds into a large dark door: a death trap in the side of a hill. They wield long slivered scythes and blow on trumpets, even drumming percussion with bones. A woman, face down, cradles her baby while dogs eat it’s face. A man is hung with his pants down. A bewildered king is taunted by a skeleton holding up an empty hour-glass.

Everyone in the painting is in the throes of death except for two young lovers in the lower right corner. They are seemingly oblivious and feeling immortal as they play music and read. But, behind them, a skeleton has picked up an instrument and is playing along.

On a barren hill to the left, two skeletons ring a large black bell.

Painted during a time when northern Europe was rocked by pandemics, reeling under the ruling religious wars, and leery of the inventive fury of the Inquisition, pictures such as this were called “moral paintings” because they were warnings to live right. No one was/is immune to death. Washing hands hadn’t caught on and religion, literally, could kill.

Art Made of Matchbooks to Ignite Awareness

This article was published in the Millerton News, Compass, February 20, 2020,  page A8.

In the cool crisp air of the cavernous Wassaic Project grain elevator stand or drape 7 large quilts in a show titled, Heirloom: Quilts from Another Country Quilt Cycle.

DARNstudio, "Amplify"

Walking through at first glance they can seem silent and even severe. It takes further reading, and peaking closely, to decipher the conceptual layers and emotional heat behind the works. The labels inform of title, ingredients, dimension, and date completed, but there is so much more to share.

Quilts are the quintessential heirlooms passed down through generations. They map our stories and stitch together family and community. A friend of mine in college had a quilt on her bed sewn by her mother commemorating the send off to school with an aerial view of her ancestral home. Quilts such as that one have warmed us, aided with healing, and silently comforted us in our beliefs. Historical lore has quilts serving most famously as poetic signposts pointing black slaves to promises of freedom along the Underground Railroad. 

This show does not point to freedom.

These DARNstudio quilts have a more sinister air. The patterns and colors are comprised of units made out of souvenir matchbooks lashed together and backed by thick grey felt. The places commemorated on the books of matches are of mundane sites: a train station platform, a convenience store, a sheriff’s jail cell, a traffic-stop intersection.

Put together by the collaborative duo of DARNStudio, based in Roxbury, CT, these quilts are part of a larger series-in-process making a statement about the killing of unarmed black American men.

David Anthone and Ron Norsworthy, the DARNstudio artists, design logos for each new place where such a killing has occurred and they then print thousands of custom-designed matchbooks. 

Flipped back to front for the sake of variety and rhythm, the matchbook fronts bear letters and numbers, codifying the names and most recent dates of a death of a victim by the hands of police,  stand-your-ground policy and other traumatic events. 

Vaguely resembling the patterns of coded quilt signage, these are contemporary pictographs where crows in the sky replace flying geese. In the quilt titled Amplify, the volume symbol of our cell phones is replicated over and over. 

Pattern titles such as "Snake in the Garden", "Go High", and "Double Cross" are an update for a vehicle that explores inherited trauma, and policy bias. 

 

This is the new story quilt that we, as a culture, are creating as heirlooms to pass down through generations. Each quilt of 2800 matchbooks appears colorful and comforting, but in actuality they are flashpoints. Each matchbook is a spark and a part of an overall blaze of conversation that needs to be shared. 

"Heirloom: Quilts from Another Country Quilt Cycle" is at the Wassaic Project in Wassaic, NY until March 28th. The Maxon Mills Gallery is open from noon to 5pm every Saturday and Sunday; admission is free. To learn more go to www.wassaicproject.org/events/2020-heirlooms

In Miami and Baltimore, Mickalene Thomas is the life of the party

One of the most exciting exhibits I recently experienced was at the Baltimore Museum of Art's Mickalene Thomas:A Moment's Pleasure exhibit. I remember first seeing her work when she was a resident at the Studio Museum of Harlem back in 2001. This was so different, and yet very much connected. Known for her large colorful, elaborate, mixed media portraits of black women, Thomas has taken the viewer right into her paintings.  By building immersive installations that mimic a party room from childhood, Thomas is bringing intimacy and a different sort of stimulation from the rest of the museum experience.

view from my comfy seat towards the bar

Born out of a desire to memorialize her mother and inspired by old Polaroids she had of her mother getting ready for parties, Thomas has been creating rooms since her "Better Days" art bar installation at Galerie Volkhaus for the Basel Art Fair of 2013. In 2016 she created the work, "Do I Look Like a Lady", an immersive video installation of singers now owned by the Portland Art Museum in Oregon. She followed up "Better Days" with Better Nights, rooms installed at Miami's Bass Museum December 2019. In the ArtNewspaper, Thomas calls the work a "manifesto experience... celebrating a marginalized group of people".
The decor is 1970's and 1980's. It is dimly lit and the music is loud. There is faux wood paneling, carpet squares, tiled ceilings, mix matched furniture, angled mirrors, bright colors, macrame plant hangers and contrasting fabric patterns. I found myself lulled into having a seat in the darkened living room and watched a few animated video shorts, while in the next room a formal bartender lined up bottles and wiped the surfaces clean. As far as I could see the other visitors were just as entranced. Included in "A Moment's Pleasure" are paintings and videos by younger Pratt artist. Thomas, a Pratt alum, has a reputation of generosity. She mentors younger artists, particularly those of color, to help them get ahead in the art world. I am sure they produced some of the colorful and mesmerizing videos on display at the end of the room.

Some books on the endtables. New to me!

The Baltimore Museum recently announced that they would spend the totality of their 2020 allocated purchasing funds to buying art by women. The focus on decolonizing the institution's collection has spread to reflecting on how they welcome and cultivate relationships with patrons and collectors of color. Mickalene Thomas is a strong artist to support. She brings with her some serious humor, a community of fans and, with installations like these, her base is only building.
The exhibit will be at the Baltimore Art Museum until May 2021. "Better Nights" at the Bass in Miami will be up until September 27, 2020.
Links to Books here: Liliane by Shange and Sister Outsider by Lourde

Bathtime Painting

painting by P. Bonnard

Soaking in the tub is such a great way to catch up with myself. It is also the time to let go of myself. Inside the hot water, I love musing on how the bath has been effectively depicted in art history.

Since indoor plumbing of the early 19^th century, scenes of the solitary bath have been depicted by many artists. My favorites are by Bonnard (1867-1947). Somehow the artist has so melded with the model (his wife), that I don’t feel like an outsider gazing in. I get the perspective of the woman bathing. 

Oil Painting by Bonnard

I love Frida Kahlo's painting,What the Water Gave Me, 1938, where she looses herself in daydreams. 

What the water Gave Me, by Kahlo in 1938

Personally, as I keep soaking, I find myself feeling more like Ophelia by John E. Millais (painted in 1851)

Ophelia (not soaking, but drowned)

 

Maira Kalman, my Shero

This winter, while visiting kids in Vermont, I stumbled upon a cache of Maira Kalman books.
From her poignant series of cakes to her stories of her mother's closet, she drew me in, literally. A fantastic visual journalist, Ms. Kalman has invented the field and is who I want to be in my next life.

My drawing of Kalman that now hangs over my desk

Oh, Capernaum* (chaos to my mind now)

The world outside my kitchen sink

I’m having an existentialist crisis because last night I experienced the art of Nicole Labaki. She is a Lebanese actress, screenwriter and film director who in 2018 finished a 2-hour social-realist drama that will shake your soul. At first the award winning Capernaum is hard to watch, but the filming of it is so delightful that I hung in there. And I am so glad that I did. After the credits went by, Michael and I sat in silence for many minutes unable to shake our selves back to the present.

The main actor, a Syrian boy living in Norway, Zaid, is a kid of around 12 years old. His relationship with an Ethiopian baby (actually born of parents from the east and west coast of the African continent) is so sweet and poignant, and evolves to depict a pure and loving brotherhood. Both children are desperate and Zaid is prone to inventive nurturing. The film has a lot of silence, and the emotion in the faces of the children speaks the situation.

Labaki says that the spark of the story came to her late one night as she and her husband (who does the music for the film and agreed to mortgage the house for production costs), were driving home and at a traffic stop. Out the car window a woman was begging with her baby who was so tired he/she could barely stand, yet even at midnight, could not be allowed to sleep. Labaki wondered at the world of the child being limited to the square meter of sidewalk. She was at the time pregnant with her second child and appalled at the way the most vulnerable in our species were treated, at the extent of their maltreatment. For two years she interviewed children in the slums of Lebanon, many of them refugees from Euro-American wars. At the end of every interview she asked them if they were glad to be alive. Most said “no”.

The story is about a kid who tries to save his younger sister from being married off to pay the back rent. The sadness and powerlessness of the situation envelops the movie viewer. Set in Beirut, the story begins in court, where the young boy is trying to sue his parents for having born him. When the judge asks Zaid what he wants from his parents, he says that he wants them to stop having more kids. It is a poignant moment when we pan to the parents who have at least 7 kids and are pregnant with another. From there the story sweeps backwards and is in reality a story about papers, documentation, identification cards and political borders. Without papers, these families are desperate and invisible to all except those who mean to exploit them. 

I don’t want to tell you more. But since I experienced this story I have not felt the same about my work or my life goals. Thoughts fly through my head that I need to do something. Leave this bucolic country home I just landed back in and go to the refugee camps, or at least to the US borders where we lock up children and babies away from their parents. I could work in the prisons in upstate NY with art supplies or do a diaper drive for the Red Cross. Besides giving donations here and there like I always do, WHAT the hell should I do? I feel undeservedly lucky being born American and with economic options, but the stain of crimes done to others for the benefit of our national lifestyle is going to be a longer sentence. It is string of unending moral crimes.

Flash sale at the Hunt Library

Hunt Library Art Wall

There is still time to catch the sale of over a hundred works on display on the David M. Hunt Village Library Art Wall. It will come down on the 4th of January. This is the 9th annual benefit for the library. The artists each contributed a 12 x 12 inch work of art that would sell for $100. Whether you have your pocketbook on you or not, it is a fun show to peruse. There is an amazing diversity within the specified format. Its like a playground of local artists and friends all in one space.

by Lori Barker

Platter by Diane Schapira

There are paintings and wall hung pottery, cages and collages, paintings, etchings, and drawings. I was surprised by a Lori Barker purple altered photograph. It is a serene Buddha almost drowned in a thick gold architectural frame. Diane and her husband Joel each have works there. They are an art power couple in our community. Very unpretentious, look to them for a good mix of wit and gravitas.

by Craig Wickwire

 Craig Wickwire was an old colleague of mine. We worked together at Kildonan. Now he is the art department at the Webutuck public school. I know he works hard and his large paintings are impressive. The Hunt Library has a small one (12 x 12 inches) that makes me smile. It has a monumental quality to it. It is a wonder how minds work! Another art teacher friend of mine is Val Valenti. The library has at least 4 of her vinyl records, each collaged with found objects in her whimsical way. Right now I imagine she is in her home in Jamaica, far from the icy Falls Village. She seeks inspiration from the spiritual messengers of the natural world and her work is playful and tropical. Charlie Noyes is another area art teacher. He is with the Hotchkiss school. His painting at the show really captures a sense of place and time of year. Under a grand painted sky, we are made to feel humbled as we stand on the earthy planet.

by Val Valenti

by Michael Gellatly

by Charles Noyes

Of course two of my favorite people to attend any art show with had works there. Michael has a piece that is a combination of various studio media--- baked clay and photography. It takes you into another world. Sue gave one of her summer barn watercolors up. It's a snapshot of neighborhood nostalgia.

by Sue Hennelly

And one of my Favorite art-inspired friends, wild momma, and exceptional teacher is Erika Crofut. Heaven help us, she has given over a glazed platter painted all over in her capricious style. It is a signature piece.

Any of these works would make a wonderful gift for yourself now that the holidays are nearly over.
I have a sewn paper piece inthe show that reminds me of my dad's truism, that "Cat's sell". I really want to help the library stay viable. #supportyourlocallibrary

My sewn paper painting, Cattitude.

 Artworks may be taken upon purchase.  Remaining art will be on display through January 4.  For more information call 860-824-7424 or visit huntlibrary.org. 
David M. Hunt Library, 63 Main Street, Falls Village, CT 06031. 
Hours: Tues & Thurs 10-5, Fri 3-7, Sat 10-1, Sun 11-2.