I have a Dream. I walk by the door of the Gallery, my show is being installed. I can see three small framed portraits being hung, the installers say, “not yet”, they don’t want me to see yet. I wake up. I want to clean my studio. Something inside is leading me, a part of me more certain than emotions or intellectualism. I clean, throw away, I paint all the paintings on board, on canvas, white. All the paintings I’m so-so about. I haven’t been able to work in my studio the past couple Of weeks. I write and complain, it’s because my kids won’t take their naps anymore, its because they are being bad, its because they aren’t giving me any space. I throw away three bags of trash from my studio. I throw away paintings on paper that never worked, that scattered the floor, my press, under my table. I throw away junk left from frantic studio sessions, old yogurt containers with dried yogurt. I couldn’t work in my studio because it was too cluttered with the past. Not because of motherhood. Now there’s space here. I create a special corner for Fiona with her easel and her art supplies. I haven’t had a chance to paint yet; I have all my notebooks opened up to clean white pages, painting surface after painting surface gessoed with only ghosts showing from what was. Fiona tells me she wants to paint in her new spot; It’s after 5:00, I should be making dinner. Alan is playing with Jack in the house; Fiona and I go in my studio, she starts painting, cutting string, gluing, she is completly absorbed in the process. I start drawing, reacting with new lines and reacting with lines that connect with the ghosts of the past paintings. Jack comes in and says he wants to throw paint. I set him up with a canvas and black paint, he starts splattering the paint, Jackson Pollock style. I continue to work, my head feels light and my body free from the neck work I did in yoga this morning. Fiona and I paint for almost two hours together. Alan comes in and says he’s getting really hungry and it’s really late. I tell Fiona, we clean up. I go upstairs and make dinner. I have a dream last night: I’m re-writing a story to read out loud, I get up in front of a group of people and I can’t read myown writing. Its so confusing, I can’t tell what happened to the words. I try to skim it and fill in the blanks, I’m so confused. I wake up and here I am.
Category: finding balance
-
Quiet. I don’t even want to listen to music right now. I’m in my studio, Monday, March 6th, 2017, 1:46 PM. Babies asleep. I haven’t had a chance to get in my studio in forever. It’s been a crazy few weeks of transitions and changes: Jack and Fiona turning three, transitioning to preschool programs, Jack doesn’t start until the 13th, separating Jack and Fiona for the first time, behavioral changes due to all these changes. It’s been intense. I decided right away to just put the studio and writing on the back burner (even though it has been a time I needed it most) but I was so consumed with motherhood and domestic responsibilities I didn’t have any extra time, or energy. Today I finally made it. It takes a while to get into the creative zone. At first, when I came into my studio today I wondered how to get started. I started wondering what to work on, what route to take. It delayed my starting anything, until I mixed some fresh white paint, painted over what had been sitting on the studio floor for weeks. A ghost remained, I started painting and drawing, first using one color, then two, then three, finishing with a slate grey. Letting them dry a little between layers, letting them set up a little. Taking my time. Now I am nearing the end of my studio time today. I have one more hour. Now forty minutes, I opened a bottle of wine, am enjoying a glass and updated my Facebook profile picture!
Last week amidst the changes I had a bit of a scare. I started to develop a twitch! On my face! I had one of these a few years ago, it lasted a year. It was awful! It appeared at the end of an intensely stressful period of my life. When my face started twitching again last week I knew it was time to chill the fuck out! That’s the first thing that came to my mind! When Jack gets in his preschool program I’m adding yoga back into my life. That’s for sure. But when I came in my studio today, I was concerned because I have an absence of rage inside me. Stress and fatigue, but no rage. The rage that I felt during the election cycle and during Trumps first month has subsided. I just keep thinking I will wake up one morning and they will all be gone. Like in “The Leftovers”, Trump and his cabinet and all the creepy crawly republicans trying to pass legislation to fuck the earth and society, they all just disappear. No one knows where they went and only their families care. That’s what I keep hoping. But I’m not mad. I’m not mad at anyone, I don’t care what Trump says or does anymore. He should not be the president and everyone knows it. I tell Jack and Fiona he’s a bad man when they see his picture come up on the television.
We are Democrats, atheists, artists, and scientists. (I’m rooting for my children to become scientists) My husband is a builder. We are free thinking and have incorporated “Robot Dance Parties” into our daily routine. My guilty pleasure is sci fi and dystopian stories and movies. I relish in the imagined quiet of space and the mundane of the day to day. I know how lucky and fortunate I am, and thank my lucky stars. Knowing and tasting wine makes me happy. This is how I am now. My wine is good. I have a feeling everything is going to be O.K. Maybe Trump was a good thing to happen to us, he’s connected us and strengthened us. Even if he causes the destruction of the Earth, our last stand was a united one. That counts for something, doesn’t it?
-
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 