Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes

Blog

  • This Is 55

    After My First Mountain  There is nothing to do except brace myself.  It’s so cold.  I’m so sick of this wind.  It isn’t just blowing—it howls, whistles, whooshes, then slaps the side of the… Read more

  • We’re just here

    Jacks says, “No, we’re just here”. Bouncing, my weight pulling down the airplane three-person teeter totter. We’re the only ones at the park. Civic Center. Marin Civic Center. “The Mitten”… Read more

  • Lifelines

    I walk into my studio. I feel I can only accomplish a small amount of work, not much time left before my babysitter is off. I look at my notebooks,… Read more

  • Slow down, imagine simplicity like a winter bee under the bright sun

    I start by picking up paints, drawings, stamps, brushes, from this week, when, I brought Fiona into my studio to paint. I gave her my giant piece of charcoal; look… Read more

  • White Rabbit

    I pull off a book from the shelf in my studio, looking for something to use in my new notebook project. It’s an old Sunset Vegetable Gardening book. At first… Read more

  • Merry Christmas

    Why did they leave these stupid, delicious, star shaped, yogurt covered, white with red and green frosting, pretzels here? I should have double checked to make sure my brother and… Read more

  • Thinking about 2016, thinking about the future!

    Jenny Hynes Artist Statement 2017 As the end of 2016 approaches I look back on this year as being very fruitful artistically. I have painted and written almost daily. I… Read more

  • Murky Waters

    Murky Waters. Today. Loss. Death. Strange quiet highways. Nap Time. Jack and Fiona will be up soon. House still quiet. Today is the anniversary of my mom’s death. Paintings Murky… Read more

  • Born into a new Form

    Walking down the trail this morning the wind starts to blow, the trees that still have leaves rustle, I hear a chime in the distance. I think of my mom,… Read more

  • We take a sip of coffee at the same time, playing footsies under the table. It’s 6:30AM, my Son and I.

    Fiona sits on my lap, leaning the side of her head onto my chest as the audiologist looks in her ears, first the left, then the right, gently pushing a… Read more

  • The Path feels good under my feet

    Nice hot cup of coffee. Yum. Grateful to be in a warm house. It’s a cold morning. On our walk to school this morning I try to show Jack and… Read more

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