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

  • The Brambles

    6:48am Christmas morning, the house still quiet, babies and husband sleeping. I sip my warm strong coffee as I look out at the winter sky. I needed this time to… Read more

  • I swear I’m not a debbie downer

    Wound up like the inside of a golf ball all bound together until it’s broken open, the strange looking fibers revealed and unravel leaving a mess on the floor. That’s… Read more

  • Hello old Friend, it’s so good to see you again.  

    The brush barely touches the fabric , the stain of color penetrating into the fibers uniting as one. I stop myself from adding any more paint or water. I have… Read more

  • Damn you Santa!

    It’s the darkest, shortest day of the year, the winter solstice. I couldn’t sleep past five. That’s OK because now  I have over an hour to drink my hot strong… Read more

  • The Darker the night the brighter the light

    Today is the day mom. The day you started off as Jane Doe hooked up to machines that made your body swell, machines that kept your heart beating so the… Read more

  • Somethings buzzing round here, spirits of the season rising, and I wrote my new artist bio

    “Mom, where are you? Can you hear me? ” I say this sometimes just for fun, especially near her memorial day. The 20th of December. I sit here in my… Read more

  • Blunders

    My stomach aches from all the yogurt covered pretzals, brittle and chocolate truffle I ate mindlessly stuffing the sickly sweet crunchy pieces of candy into my mouth. I almost had… Read more

  • Hair

    “What happened to the curls?” “No more curls?” said with frown faces. “What made you decide to cut their hair?” “Did you cut it yourself?” “No, I didn’t cut it… Read more

  • Changing Times, Changing Minds

    The red light on the hill flashes in the dark, houselights and street lights trickle down into a muted valley, where people are still sleeping at 6:28 am Sunday morning, US,… Read more

  • Home

    Paper scraps in various colors and formations litter the floor and every surface in my studio. My hands are damp and cold from just washing them, wiping them on my… Read more

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