Otherwise known as hellebore. Even after enduring this last winter’s extreme weeks of constant freezing ice cover, they survived unscathed and bloomed two weeks ago. Unfortunately, my computer upgrades have kept me from photoshopping these images until now.
Lenten roses are the first to flower in my garden, alerting me that Lent and spring are just around the corner. During the summer, they are usually hidden from view by the surrounding foliage. But once these deciduous neighbors shed their leaves, the hellebore is ready to perform, providing a bleak winter garden with color.
This image is a stand-in for the vacation I’m NOT experiencing.
Massive computer and software upgrades have still not been completed. And if I had known in advance that the tech would need to make several visits over a week’s period, I would have left the country for some exotic locale and have them call me when it’s been completed and with no lingering kinks. But, I’m afraid that these kinks followed by cocktails will be a part of my life for the next couple of months.
Since my applications have not been installed (e.g. photoshop with all my camera plugins and other graphic programs), I can’t share my new photos of spring beginning to peep through in my garden. I refuse to use iPhoto to doctor new photos. Only Photoshop will do for me. The above image, used with a blast email sent to my clients informing them of my upcoming vacation way back in 2002, has been resurrected out of my old files. So in the meantime, let’s all maintain loose posture.
(above left to right) Godfrey and Mary Ann Collins as Pappy and Mammy Yokum, Ed and Joy Bell as Li’l Abner and Daisy Mae
My folks actually had fun before we came along. This photo must have been taken some time in 1953. My parents, Li’l Abner and Daisy Mae, were in their courtin’ phase. Evidently my father wasn’t a follower of this comic strip. If he had done his research, he would have known that his role was to evade marriage with Daisy Mae at all costs. Well, at least not look that interested. But Mrs. Collins, on the other hand, is perfect for her part as Mammy Yokum:
Born Pansy Hunks, Mammy was the scrawny, highly principled “sassiety” leader and bare knuckle “champeen” of the town of Dogpatch. She married the inconsequential Pappy Yokum in 1902; they produced two strapping sons twice their own size. Mammy dominated the Yokum clan through the force of her personality, and dominated everyone else with her fearsome right uppercut (sometimes known as her “Goodnight, Irene” punch), which helped her uphold law, order and decency. She was consistently the toughest character throughout Li’l Abner. A superhuman dynamo, Mammy did all the household chores—and provided her charges with no fewer than eight meals a day of “po’k chops” and “tarnips” (as well as local Dogpatch delicacies—like “candied catfish eyeballs” and “trashbean soup”). Her authority was unquestioned, and her characteristic phrase, “Ah has spoken!” signaled the end of all further discussion. Her most famous phrase, however, was “Good is better than evil becuz it’s nicer.”
I understand that another photo exists with the quartet costumed as the chain gang. I need to see this to believe it. My customarily glamorous mother dressed in stripes? She never wore stripes.
Expressions from the past. This is another item from the family home which I have decided is worth keeping. It’s a tiny book of laid finish papers in several pastel colors. Interspersed among romantic etching prints with protective tissue covers are handwritten prose poems to Lizzie Payne from loved ones. My family genealogy book tells me that Lizzie was my great great grandmother on my father’s mother’s side. Since the earliest poem is dated July 12th, 1858, I’m guessing that this little memento was given to her on the eve of her wedding.
A Quiet Root May Know How to Holler.Amy Revier’s digitally manipulated photographs, sculpture, and woven textiles reflecting Iceland’s recent economic, political, and geological upheavals can be seen at The Reading Room. The opening reception is Friday, February 11 from 7pm until 9pm, and on the last day of the show, February 27 at 4pm, Philip Van Keuren will give a reading of collected texts that relate to the work. The Reading Room is located at 3715 Parry Avenue in Dallas.
What happens to tchotchkes when they are no longer favored? With the few that I’ve decided to keep and the items chosen from the family estate, I have placed them in unexpected and odd locations. Hopefully I have avoided the bric-a-brac look that is so commonly associated with antique malls and held in huge disdain by interior designers. But I’m pretty sure that things will be continually shifted, and that I will never be satisfied with their placement. That’s just the way I am. Always insecure with the decisions made the day before.
Chapman’s artist statement. These birds are made from recycled materials and things I find in living. This project is about being present… to my life, the birds that I see, the materials that float through my visual field, and my response to them. Birds in my work represent spirit, soul, a part of me that is connected to all living things. “Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul” (Emily Dickinson) are words that seem to fit what I am looking for as I weave laundry lint, sticks, seeds, bits of nature, thread, buttons, and other found objects into whimsical birds.
‘Call and Response,’ 2011. Collaborative installation detail.
Beasts and Bunnies in the main galleries. I couldn’t help but start my visit backwards and clockwise. The suggested path was to start in the large gallery and work my way around counter clockwise. But with all the tick-tocks, whirling, shadows, and landscape features, the collaborative installation in the square gallery was begging me to wander through it first before moving on to the larger gallery. This installation is an indoor winter wonderland, but with spots of bright yellow, and the sound of creature activity, I could feel that spring was being promised. Since it’s impossible for me to capture the complete experience with photos and words, I strongly suggest you visit the show physically at The MAC. But first, read on. I have more to offer about this show.
Another unknown relation discovered in the family home. Lucy Ann Philips Sharpe was a distant relation on my paternal grandmother’s side of the family. Born in Birdville, Texas on December 25, 1852, she married Henry Laurens Sharpe on August 21, 1873 here in Dallas. She lived a long life before passing away at the age of 88 in Weatherford, Texas. But it’s her divinity that we are most interested in. As an annual Christmas tradition, she made batches of it and mailed them to her ten children. That’s right. Ten. Ten living children. So she was able to continually charm her husband, and this is why I have dressed her in pink.
I don’t recall ever having visited Birdville or Weatherford. And I certainly can’t say that I’ve ever tasted Divinity. But Lucy’s daughter Jimmie Harris sent my father this Christmas recipe after the two had connected during my father’s research on his family’s history. Buried for fifteen years in piles and piles of stuff, it is now being published for the digital world. I can’t say I plan to cook this up, but perhaps, those of you who love to experiment in the kitchen, can advise me whether this recipe promises to be tasty. But something tells me it could stand some additional fancy touches.
At The MAC (The McKinney Avenue Contemporary)
January 8 through February 12, 2011
Opening Reception with the Artists:
Saturday, January 8, 5:30–7:30 pm
Helen Altman, Frances Bagley, Celia Eberle, and Margaret Meehan in the large and square galleries. This group exhibition brings together these four artists to investigate “the animal” both literally and metaphorically. Helen Altman, Frances Bagley, Celia Eberle, and Margaret Meehan have all worked using animal imagery and share a similar sensibility. Through sculpture, painting, photography, works on paper, and video these artists each push and prod at the boundaries between nature and culture as well as the assumed distance between animal and human behavior. In addition to individual works by each artist, the exhibition will feature a collective installation titled Call and Response.
