Dirty Laundry Blog by Jennifer Hynes

The first time he spotted the moon, on painting and process, Rhythm and Presence.

September 22nd, 2015
“That” Jack says. He’s pointing through the window, at the sky. He notices the moon for the first time. I wonder what he thinks ? Is it a giant light? I explain it’s the moon, I tell him it’s always been there, he just couldn’t see it. I think about how there was a first time I noticed the moon. I wonder when it was, who told me the story about the sky? Did I see stars? Was I outside?


I can only imagine it was just as exciting as it was last night for Jack.

We went to Early Start today, Fiona’s school. I find it exhausting, all the emotions from all the different kids, so many things going on, it’s definitely over stimulating for me, I can only imagine what it’s like for the babies. They were so tired they fell asleep in the car. I had a little time in my studio to paint. I am getting great results in my notebooks.





I was thinking about what I would say to someone if I was to explain what I’m doing in here. The first thing is total experimentation, with color, line, collage, automatic drawing, texture, and accidental mark making. I get an idea or see something in my mind I want to make. I start working, letting the initial brush strokes or paint splashes guide me. Sometimes things flow, sometimes I get mud or rejects.


I used to not work like this. I always had a figure or a face. I would paint faces over and over again. But I always wanted to paint abstractly. I was awful at first because I over work everything. I took a painting class from Heather Wilcoxen and she taught me how to paint like I wanted to paint. She taught me to leave things alone and trust myself. I learned about Wabi Sabi around the same time and loved the freedom I felt working in this way, spontaneously. I still enjoy working with the figure sometimes. My work has so much to do with memory, loss, and dissapearance I want to use the figure or a face to work through these emotions.


But I love the feeling of working purely from my gut just making marks. I love working with collage, re-working my rejects. It’s exciting and when I’m working In my studio I usually feel just right and that it’s the only thing that matters at that time. I’m fully present.



I recently took the Rhythm and Presence workshop with Carl Heyward and Heather Wilcoxen. I loved it and feel like it helped me with integrating my line and collage. I enjoyed working with the other participants in the group. It was just what I needed at the right time. I felt inspired to try new things, I learned so much and had so much fun.

  Alot of the time when I’m in my studio it’s during the babies nap time, so I only have a small amount of time to work. I naturally work super fast so sometimes it’s good to have that time limitation to prevent myself from overworking and overthinking.

  Carl talked about automatic drawing in the Rhythm and Presence workshop, I’m really into it. I have been incorporating that into my work and doing it in my notebooks everyday. It’s so interesting, I close my eyes and look away and draw. It’s like the moon, the lines have been there all the time, I just couldn’t see them. When I looked away they appeared to me and Now I like my line.
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Evanesce

September 21st, 2015
I said “I’ll be right back.” Lindsay was leaving in twenty minutes, I needed a few minutes to myself before she left. I put in a load of laundry and headed out to my studio, knowing I didn’t have time to work, but maybe just a few marks in my notebook. I look at the time again, fifteen minutes remaining. I mix my favorite watercolor, indigo and start painting, grab my graphite, do some spontaneous drawing. It’s feeling good, I add some collage to a few, before I know it I have several pieces done.

A text comes through, it’s almost four, Lindsay is leaving and Bruce is headed to the East Bay. I rinse my brush, turn off the light and come back upstairs. I look at the clock on the oven, even though I already know the answer, I have three hours to go. Jack and Fiona are climbing on everything, things they couldn’t climb on yesterday, today seem like nothing to get on top of for them. They’ve figured out how to use their arm strength and are starting to learn the concept of momentum. I feel myself starting to panic, petrified that I won’t be able to keep them from falling to a terrible death.

I wonder, should I take those new/ different pills the doctor offered? The ones that are prescribed for people with bi-polar, “I’m not saying you have bi-polar, we just use them to treat people with bi-polar, but we use them for anxiety treatment too” Not yet, I’m not there yet doctor. I think my fears are totally justifiable anyhow. I’ve heard the unbelievable stories for years about toddlers’ tragic deaths. Listened to the parents being beaten up, called neglectful, must have been on drugs, drunk. No, toddlers are fast. They are faster than parents, I was right here in the kitchen when I heard a thump and turned to see jack was sitting on the window sill and had pushed out the screen. If that was the window to his left it could have been a fall to his death. I had insomnia that night, when I was asleep I was having night mares, the ones where I’m on a freeway over water and I’m having a hard time keeping my car on the road. I’m worn out already, or should I say cumulatively? This morning when I woke up I wondered how can I take care of myself better? Or am I going to be tired forever? Drained? Exhausted? Maybe.

Bruce was here for the weekend, he was my mom’s boyfriend when I was a little kid, he helped raise Danny and I. “It’s great that you and Bruce kept in touch all these years” said Lindsay on Friday afternoon. “We didn’t.” I say. “We lost touch for over twenty years, the last time I saw Bruce I was seventeen, living on the streets in San Diego.”

“It seems like you guys are so comfortable together, like you’ve always been close.”

It is like that, Bruce, Danny and I are like three peas in a pod. I’ve written before about how I see that Bruce is a big part of who I am today, the positive qualities! Jack and Fiona like Bruce a lot. Jack said “Bruce” it was so cute. Spending time with Danny and Bruce this weekend was really nice. I felt guilty because I was so tired I couldn’t do any hostess stuff at all. I think they understand though. We focused mostly on Jack and Fiona, talked about their development, what’s going on in their minds. It’s one of the things that’s most difficult about being a parent. I can’t remember the last time someone asked me how I’m doing, what’s happening in my studio, which I’m used to, no one wants to talk about art. I mean only other artists want to talk about art, painting and collage specifically. It’s hard. That’s why it’s so lonely being an artist. It’s like I am no longer Jenny, I’m only Mommy. My art life, internal life, emotional life, is only relevant to others if it has to do with jack and Fiona or being a parent. Evanesce. I was prepared for this. I made space in my life to become three. But there’s still more to me, still something left from when it was just me, from when it is just me. Does anyone see?

The babies are waking up now, it’s 7:00AM Monday morning. Time to get to work!
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Unbreakable inseparable. And recognizable.

September 18th, 2015
February, almost two years ago, the days were still short, I remember carrying the babies into the house, it was dark already. The bassinets were set up ready for Jack and Fiona to lay in. I hadn’t seen Billy for almost five days. I missed her terribly. I opened the back door to let billy in, she ran towards the bassinets, ears pointed, hair raised. One of the babies made a strange newborn baby sound, billy looked like she was going to pounce, she didn’t know what it was, I think she thought it was a wild animal. I had to put her out. I told Alan I had to take her for a walk, he would have to take care of the babies by himself for an hour. I walked up the trail with Billy and cried. I felt like and she looked at me like I had betrayed her.


This morning after I walked down to the park with Billy, Lindsay, Bruce, Jack and Fiona I was going to leave them at the park to play and take Billy up the trail. She walked slow, her eyes twitched, she kept stopping and pulling on the leash. She wouldn’t go, she wouldn’t leave the babies at the park. It was not an option. The first time this happened I felt like Billy loved the babies more than me now, my dog. This time I realized we have become a pack. An unbreakable, inseparable group of people and animal.


Jack and Fiona are hyper aware of me and my presence or absence And so is Billy. And it circles out from there. Family, old friends and new friends.


But what makes the bond? What connects people or disconnects them? How come some people Make me feel like I can be me and some people make me feel uncomfortable or confrontational? People always talk about finding their “tribe.” I believe that is true, there just are people who mesh. I used to think it was an artist thing, that I didn’t relate with certain people because they weren’t artists. Now I think it goes deeper, because I’ve found people who aren’t artists that feel good to be around. I feel like I can be myself and am accepted. Not many, but some!
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