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 his girlfriend took them for their treacherous, tedious, drive down south. I would die if I had to drive to LA with Jack and Fiona today, Christmas eve, (for some) but traffic doesn’t care what holiday someone celebrates. The stores don’t care, craziness infiltrates every corner of life this time of the year. There’s no avoiding it. But there is avoiding the roads, that is what I choose. It just sucks that I can’t see all the people I love. I feel more connected to the people I love dead and alive today. Right now, And myself. It’s almost time to put the babies to bed for a nap. But will they go to sleep? They are so excited and so spoiled. But still sweet and love giving presents too. They may not want to sleep. They’ve been singing “Santa Claus is coming to town” constantly. Jack rocks out (Rock and Roll baby) Fiona sings Santa Claus is Not coming to town”, and Alan and I argue about what to tell the babies about Santa, Is he coming or not? I think Jack and Fiona already know that adults give presents, Santa is pretend, but Alan thinks we can fool them and I’m always the one to let it slip. It’s pretty funny. The luxuries. Christmas is all about indulging. Last night the waiter asks us if we want a bucket. I thought he meant something to throw up in, but he meant to say a booster seat. All is good. Babies definitely not taking a nap, “Mickey Mouse Once Upon Christmas” again!
Category: being present
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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.
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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, how she is part of everything, how she blows through me with the wind. I think of her laugh, her face, her skin, her voice. I don’t feel sad, I feel her presence in myself. I feel like she is here with me. She is part of me. Her birthday is Friday, December 16th and the anniversary of her death is on Tuesday the 20th. It’s been the hardest part of the year for me, the past seven years, mourning, trying to just get through the holidays. This year it’s different, I miss her every minute of every day, but I feel something new. I feel a new connection to my mom, a connection that transcends death, as if she’s been reborn into a new form. Reformed into the air I breath in and out. I have boxes of memories, trinkets and jewelry packed up after she died, I open the box and smell a bracelet, I can still smell my mom’s perfume on it. I close the box quickly, not to contaminate history, not to contaminate my present state of mind. It’s a connection to that time, the sadness I feel, the loss. A box of loss. It’s not a place to dwell, or hang out anymore. I honor her gifts she gave to me, who she was and how she influenced my life. My mom loved Christmas, she would have loved seeing Jack and Fiona decorating their tiny toddler tree, spending the holidays together. I miss her so much, she will be with me forever.
It’s a quiet Tuesday afternoon, babies sleeping, Billy sleeping, I hear her long body stretch out on the carpet. Pink Bear and Jacks giant stuffed dog toys sit here with me at the kitchen table. This morning Fiona came walking into the kitchen with Pink bear, dog, and all three of her tigers in her arms. The stuffed toys were bigger than her, her cheeks rosy, smiling. Jack grabbed his stuffed dog and gave it a big hug. They are filled with love. Jack gives the best spontaneous hugs. They are very sweet children. Aren’t they all though? Children are angels. It’s hard not to spoil them! I have chores to do, but don’t feel like doing them. My mind is fighting itself, “I should be productive while the babies are sleeping” it says, then it says, “Just relax and do nothing, read your book.” Then it says, “you’ll regret not going to your studio and working on naptime paintings and notebooks.” Then it says, “but it’s cold down there”. What wins? As I let out a big yawn. I want to take Pink bear and Dog to the couch and cuddle with them on the couch.
Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes 