Everything’s All set up. Shelves stocked with cerulean Blue, Anthro blue, green gold, burnt sienna, and more wonderful colors and colors and colors. New colors. Past year been keeping colors basic. Neutrals. Now deep. Deep in it. Officially getting ready for Solo show in the fall. Am excited. Got the supplies. Got the preparatory work started. Almost seven months to dial it in. As well as publish my book of Nap Time writings and paintings. The problem with my book is I want to just keep writing instead of editing and curating. I have to match the photos of my naptime paintings with the corresponding naptime writing that spans two years. Maybe it should be split up year two and year three. That’s a start at least. It feels like a daunting project! I had a wonderful day painting today. I made a supply run this morning, that is a help. I’ve been having vivid, intense dreams and feeling a sense of needing to put self-preservation first. Don’t take any chances, I think. I grab a long stick on the ground as I’m hiking this morning; A trail up high overlooking San Rafael. Its my first time this far up. It’s a spot the homeless camp out on. I walk across someone’s spot. A round circle of grass is flat. The sun is just peering over the eucalyptus trees. There’s a small, tidy bag of garbage. I see a cigarette box. There was a bad fire on the hillside a few years back, during the drought. “It’s the homeless camps” everyone shouted. I would set up camp here. If I were homeless. With some mean dogs to protect me. Billy’s getting old. Her leg isn’t quite healed. She’s feeling her recent injury. Her days. That’s why I Grab this stick. In my dream, I was scared. I ran through tall grass. I ran from a thief. I was scared. This would be a convenient spot for rape, I think. I remember how vulnerable I used to be when I was on the street as a young runaway. I had to line up with guys who would protect me. Even if I had to have sex with them to keep that protection. It was the lesser of two terribles. In my dream I was a teenager again. Sitting in the back of a pickup truck. Trying to figure how to stay alive. I brushed it out of my memory. Buried it down deep like they’re someone else’s stories. I picked up the stick this morning because the alternative, in the event that strange, somewhat in trusty worthy looking man was to come at me. I would have to run through the brambles in the wrong kind of pants, or strike him, hard. The other night I dreamt I was trying to protect myself with a garden tool but I couldn’t swing hard enough. The noise of the fan brings me back into my studio. I only have fifteen minutes left of my break. Tomorrow I am staying the night in the city. I’m going to the MOMA to see the Diebenkorn and Matisse show. It’s going to be the best night ever. I’m going to a Brazilian Steak house. I’m going to eat steak and drink wine.
Category: Simpatico show
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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, I have been working on eight consistently; my goal, to have three done for my show next year. The last day I worked in my studio I used collage, experimenting with tape, old recycled prints, a light sage green, blue and grey. I decided to work slower this year, not frantic, just tick-tock. I work on a few canvases today, compositions giving me trouble, set them aside. It feels good to let go, to let them breath, have a life of their own. I think I need more time, at least three hours to really get into things. But, I need to use what I have, the time, the materials, the frame of mind. It’s all here, everything I need. The notebooks are true expressions of my creativity. They are my lifeline.
January, raining for days, creeks rushing by, plants and grass growing. All the wildflowers I’ve planted for the past eight years are finally going to flower this year. There are so many, they’ve remained dormant during the drought. But they survive and thrive. Many transitions ahead, Jack and Fiona turning three, entering preschool soon. When people say, childhood goes by fast they aren’t kidding. I look at a painting on my wall in my studio, a hand and foot print from Jack and Fiona when they were maybe eight months old. As I look at the paintings, it doesn’t feel that long ago. I feel like we just did that, but we didn’t. Such precious little feet and hands, so soft. They are still precious, but now I feel I must be careful to not intrude into their personal space, not “baby” them. Toddlers hate to be “babied”! I can give them an occasional rub on the head or examination of their little hands. But no long stares in wonderment. That bugs them now. Hugs and kisses are always available through! That’s true throughout the lifetime of a family unit. “Loving is what makes us real” (The Velveteen Rabbit)
There’s always love and compassion, and patience. No one can take that away. Even in the face of so much hate and scary stuff happening in the world, happening in our government, I will still focus on the positive, focus on understanding of self. It’s the only way.
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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 