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 you can do it like this (flat on its side to make huge lines) or on the edge (to make skinny lines) and yes, it gets all over your hands and makes you really dirty! But you can make handprints and smear it. I love charcoal. Her little feet and bottoms of her pajamas getting all dirty. Jack only wants to turn the wheel on my press, I say no. He investigates the garage, tools left out, nails and screws. Today I am by myself. It is is the first day I get to work in my studio, in what feels like forever. I feel outside myself. I start on my “notebooks”, glue cropped paintings onto each open page on the floor. They are mysterious in their simplicity, instead of working more on them I decide to leave them as is for now. I want to work slow and methodical this year. Slow down. Yesterday the sun came out for a few hours. Jack, Fiona, and I sat outside in the back yard. The warmth felt so luscious. Look, a first bee. Jack and Fiona come close. I study its delicate wings, soft looking body. What’s it doing? It’s looking for food, says Fiona. We see a fly, it’s going to be an early spring, I imagine, not really knowing. When I woke up in the morning I saw dozens of Yellow finches covering every inch of the bare branched fig tree. We filled the bird feeders and spread bird seed all over the yard yesterday. We saw a male and female deer walking slowly on the hillside. The grass is bright green. So much loveliness right in the backyard. I want to make art inspired by the way nature displays itself to us. By the slow gathering of food. I wash, fold, and put away the biggest pile of laundry the other day. I sit on my pranayama cushion and treat it as a meditation. It feels good to have every piece of laundry put in its place. To sit and start and finish a task. I had to refold many times because Jack and Fiona thought it was fun to play in the laundry bin with the clean folded clothes. I have to change my tactic, put away as I go. I’m not going to react to the news I hear on the radio today, not the shooting at the airport, not the news of our new American government. I feel. I am distracted by it. I will try to distance myself. I take my dog for a walk while my pieces I start first dry. Creeks are running, the air is fresh and cool. Now back in my studio I mix my first color, white and burnt umber. I start to paint. I’m feeling more present. The violent world starts to fade. My body starts to feel better again. I have two hours to paint. I have new books for me and new books of poetry for Jack and Fiona for the rainy weekend ahead.
Category: art
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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 I want to use it for collage. I flip through and on the last page there is a sketch and a list of winter vegetables to plant: beets, brussel sprouts, carrots, lettuce, and spinach. I recognize the hand writing, it’s my mom’s. I can’t use this. I think about the garden in “Jennifer’s Walk”, a book from my childhood I read to Jack and Fiona. The garden in “Jennifers Walk” always reminds me of the garden my mom planted in our back yard. Now I am looking at a sketch of her vegetable plot, the one imbedded in my memories. I remember walking outside with her, “Jenny, a rabbit ate my carrots”. I imagine a white rabbit. Every time I read Jack and Fiona “Jennifer’s walk” I think of the white rabbit. I am reminded of my mom, my life as a child. My body yearns to be that little girl, to feel that way. The way my body felt today when I opened the page and saw my mom’s writing. I take the books into Jack and Fiona’s room when they wake from their nap; “Vegetable Garden” and “Woodland Animals” another one of my childhood favorites. I tell them the story of the books, they watch me in earnest. Fiona doesn’t have her hearing aids on yet, but Jack hears every word. He doesn’t interrupt, he processes. I flip the pages, he sees a picture of a turtle, “I don’t like turtles, they bite” he says. I look at him and giggle, he smiles.
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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 participated in the International DADA festival, in San Francisco with GAP (Global Art Project), we had a group show at Room Gallery in Mill Valley, Ca. Most recently I was in a two person show with Carl Heyward, “Simpatico” at The Fourth Wall Gallery. Thinking about next year, I will be having a Solo show at The Fourth Wall gallery as well as publishing my first book, “Naptime”, writings about being an artist and a mom of twins, (working title at this point) which will include a selection of my Naptime Paintings. I almost feel like I need more time to process the past year, what does it all mean? I’ve never been one to write fancy or pretentious Artists statements, the ones that sound really intelligent and use big words but no one understands! I focus on my physical experience in the studio, the scraps of re-used drawings and prints I find on my studio floor that inspire me, spontaneity, process, my moods and how they influence my work on any given day. But this year there has been more at play, my “notebook” project has dominated my studio practice. I work on several at a time, this gives me freedom to explore several ideas at once, this project has changed my practice dramatically. Psychologically it has given me a refuge, my own space to create that is not precious, or self-conscious. I never judge myself when I work in my notebooks, there is no “Good or Bad” work. I recently have begun to work on larger canvases, which at first was extremely challenging. I had been working on paper only for the better part of the year. It took months of struggle, to get to understand the canvas as I do paper. To understand color, layering, composition, on a large canvas, one that I paint upright as opposed to flat. I learned so much in this process. My work is about challenge, creating problems and obstacles for myself. One of my biggest challenges this year has been finding time to work, finding alone time in my studio, while raising twins. I write about this in my Blog, DirtyLaundryBlog.com. When I put the babies down for their nap and I walk into my studio it’s like I become myself again, as if I’m home. I forget all the other noise and worries, just break out the paint, start on my notebooks, and work on whatever else I have time to do. When naptime is over and I clean up and close up my studio I have trained myself to not obsess about the work I just made, to “change roles” and be fully present as “mom”. In 2017 I will continue working on my “notebook” project, three will be on display in my Solo Show. I am excited to start a new series of “naptime” paintings as well as large canvas works.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 