Flat Granny was featured on BUST.
Flat Granny was featured on BUST.
Taking Shape: Celebrating the Windgate Fellowship
The Center for Craft, Creativity & Design
Asheville, North Carolina
January 24, 5-7 p.m.
The show is up Jan. 24 – May 3, 2014
A pdf of the exhibition catalog can be downloaded HERE.
For more information on this traveling exhibition, curated by Cindi Strauss, please visit:
Wounded Home at The Lloyd Library and Museum ends January 20, 2014.
If you are in the Cincinnati, OH area pop over and check it out.
Thanks to Eastern Hills Journal for reviewing the show.
Click the link below for pdf.
Eastern Hills Journal_Wounded Home
Thank you Beautiful/Decay for the thoughtful article on Flat Granny.
Check it out here…BEAUTIFUL/DECAY
The Saddest Day was featured on The Jealous Curator.
This little lady is on her way to SOFA – Chicago!
A special thanks to Alon Wingard for custom building the black walnut case with gold leaf fillet.
Mourning Ole Sister will be part of Taking Shape the special exhibition in the 2013 Sculptural Objects and Functional Art + Design Fair in Chicago running October 31 – November 3, 2013.
For more info on this exhibition, please visit: www.sofaexpo.com
I’ve been pulling late nights in the studio getting ready for Wounded Home, an installation in collaboration with Mary Jo Bole, Deborah Brod, Celene Hawkins, Saad Goshn, Kate Kern, and Alice Pixley Young. Wounded Home takes its inspiration from a Victorian era parlor ravaged by the losses and upheaval of Civil War America.
Upon discovering The Photographic Atlas of Skin Diseases among the vast collection of medical books in the Lloyd Library, I became interested in making contemporary renderings of diseases associated with the Civil War.
July 22, 2013 – January 20, 2014
Opening Reception: July 20, 4-7 p.m.
Lloyd Library and Museum
917 Plum Street
Cincinnati, OH 45202
Five years ago today, she left us. For years, I anticipated it. Long before the dementia set in, long before false teeth or the strokes. I fought back the day with photographs. I sometimes feel self-concious that I haven’t moved on. That maybe the outside world thinks, “enough already.” But when you love someone completely what more can you do than give yourself over to it.
She was more than a grandmother (for all of us grandkids)…as a child she was a playmate, as an adolescent she was a teacher, and for me I can certainly say, as an adult she was a best friend. She is a lifetime of memories, that in even the darkest times, flash in the theater of my mind like little reminders of the first seeds that took root inside me.
She is tissue paper flowers covering a birthday swing, blueberry bushes planted on the edge of a backyard swimming pool. She is skinny dipping on Saturdays and tossing watermelons in the pool, demitasse hot chocolate tea parties, etiquette lessons and up-all-night slumber parties that always turned up costumes by morning. She is five grandkids deep in a king-size bed, falling asleep with her long arms wrapped around all of us, a palpable love that rattles of snoring and glides across lime green carpet in floor length holey pajamas.
On the evening she said goodbye to me, I leaned over her hospital bed my nose almost touching hers. Her eyes were closed, she appeared to be asleep. I giggled, sounding my arrival.
“Hey there, precious”, she said.
“You don’t even know who this is”, I replied. I was sure of this after my arrival to the ER a few days earlier when she recognized me as an angel that was coming to take her home.
“Sure I do, it’s Jennifer”…
I was the kind of useless scared one feels when you know everything is about to change, but don’t have the power to stop it…I wasn’t scared for her, I was scared of the feelings of loss that would surely find me once she was gone, but as so many times leading up to this moments I chose to be present. I didn’t want to miss a moment.
Her eyes remained close while the machines encircled us with beeps and wheezes. We stayed there face to face for some time. I didn’t want to leave, I couldn’t look away. And then she opened her eyes and looked at me. The words that followed are forever written on my soul…
“You were it for me, kid. You made my life.”
To which a single tear rolled down my nose and landed on her cheek.
Rest in peace, dear, sweet Sarah. You were it for me.