The Poltroon Hard at Work (Athena and Cyclops)
by Beth Meadows
acrylic on canvas
2011, about 3'x2'

currently on display and for sale at Old City Java


pol·troon (pälˈtro͞on): Noun: A coward.

This painting features a girl and a boy listening to records. The male is in fact the poltroon, rendering the title sarcastic. The girl is turned away conveying distance, but she sits close, showing a hesitant affection. She is alone even though she is with him.

On the walls are two paintings, one of an owl, a symbol of Athena, and one of Cyclops with two cats.

The boy is Cyclops. He lives alone but has two cats, possibly the only creatures who can tolerate him day to day. He masks his insecurity and loneliness with pompous masculinity. He sees less with his one eye, making him unperceptive, ignorant.

The girl is insecure but it takes effect differently than the boy's. She longs for him even while knowing he isn't right for her. She is the owl, or Athena, unrealized. Over time, the girl will take on attributes of Athena as a result of experiences like this.

On the surface, all seems well.


Please contact beth@bethmeadows.com if you are interested in purchasing this painting or a limited edition print of it.

I'm currently showing paintings at Old City Java, located at 109 South Central Avenue throughout the month of June. If you're in Knoxville, please stop in and see them.



A little about how the show came about:

At the beginning of May, I self-willingly went part time as the admin assistant at Knox Heritage in order to paint more. As difficult as a decision like that is, it was also necessary and important for me to make. It felt like jumping off a cliff, and most of May was like a free fall where I wasn't sure if my parachute would deploy or not, or if I even had a parachute at all.

May ended up being great. I worked ridiculously hard, and it ended up being successful. With the beginning of each month, however, I'm afraid it will keep feeling like a free fall.

My grand plan regarding art was to take a break from showing in order to focus on producing, but after receiving an email in mid-May from Java's owner about potentially showing art there, I booked myself a show for June.



As stressful as I knew it would be to prepare for a show in three weeks is, it was necessary. Without a deadline, I am pretty worthless in the realm of art-making. With this deadline, I ended up making three large new paintings and several small ones in a short amount of time, most likely breaking a personal record. It made me slightly crazy, but it was worth it. After hanging the show last week, I took a break for a few days. Now, a week later, I feel lost without a deadline, so I'm figuring out how to handle that.

A little about the show itself:



If you go to Java, the first room you'll walk into holds paintings from this year, and the second room holds Mason Jar Paintings from this year as well as large paintings from 2010. If you like what you see, check back here for more detailed explanations of some of the paintings. And keep in mind; they're all for sale.



In the meantime, here's my artist statement:

THE ARTIST



Originally from Memphis, Beth has rooted herself as an artist in Knoxville since Attending the University of Tennessee. She received a Bachelor of Fine Art in Studio Art with a concentration in drawing. She is a co-founder and co-manager of 17th Street Studios, a work space for eleven artists in Fort Sanders. Her primary medium is acrylic on canvas.






















THE WORK

The Preserves Series:

Painting mason Jars on salvaged wood is inspired by my position as the Architectural Salvage Coordinator for Knox Heritage. Each is a tribute to the valuable work of historic preservation.






















Paintings on canvas:

My favorite time of day is dusk. It reminds me of being outside as a kid
    the way telephone wires and trees become silhouettes against a glowing blue sky
    how a train horn blowing in the distance is wonderfully haunting
    the emergence of tiny flickering lightning bugs
    streetlamps and porch lights switching on
    and how grateful I was to be called inside before darkness fell.
When I paint, I think about the connection between childhood and adulthood. Though circumstances change, we experience joy and pain with each day, no matter what age. We grow and mature but sometimes discover we are not very different from when we were young.






















CONTACT

Email: beth@bethmeadows.com
Website: www.bethmeadows.com
Blog: www.withbearhands.com
Shop: www.etsy.com/shop/WithBearHands

My sister made me curtains recently. They're pretty cute.



We've talked briefly about starting a business together, one where we make beautiful things and sell them. I would be the artsy side and she would craftsy side.

When I daydream about this, I imagine us living at our grandparents' farmhouse (which is for sale) in Dancyville, just east of Memphis. There we would run a kennel for rescued dogs and cats and we would make things and collect things all the live long day.

My brother-in-law would be there, too, of course, and he'd help with furniture building because he is good at things like that. My other sister would come in on the weekends to hug cats and play the clarinet for us. Juicy would have acres of cotton fields in which to roll around.



Our studio would hold a sewing machine, a screen printing area, easels, paint, papers, fabrics, etc.. We would make the storage room outside in between the house and the cotton fields into a wood shop. People would come stay with us, cook with us, clean with us, make things with us. They could take a dog for a walk each morning.



There is a room off the porch of the farmhouse where an old desk and wooden toys and a pad of paper and pencil are kept. I love that room. When I was younger, I could be by myself for hours and it was like minutes. Who knows what I thought about, dreamed about. I think it was training for all the time I'd spend being alone once I was older**, though I'm not as good at it now as I was back then.



Inside the house, in the living room, my grandmother displayed antique purses and make-up cases. I'd hold them, covet them. My grandfather, a former dairy man, collected all things cow-themed and all things dairy. I didn't know the extent of his collection until they put the house up for sale and began cleaning out rooms- bookcases full of cow shaped cream pitchers, butter molds, and milk bottles.



I share this love for antiques, old things beautifully crafted, with my grandparents, I'm sure I get that quality from them, but mixed in is a certain contemporary flair. I am a thrift store fiend (more on that later), so also with our studio-bed and breakfast-kennel, I would have a room stocked full of my findings- vintage clothes and shoes, tinted cut glassware, wooden boxes, mason jars, metal filing boxes, the list goes on.





I'd collect and all of us would make.

And we'd sell everything via the internet and make buckets of money to buy our rescued dogs leather collars, and to make lavish meals for guests, and to send each of us on trips to play with orphans in South America, Africa, and India. And I'd finally get to go to Japan.

A simple life is all I want.

...but I also want the city.

*Sally, from Peanuts in A Charlie Brown Christmas
**I don't mean this as much in a pathetic way, but more being factual about the life of an artist.

So I've been meaning to write about a little business venture I've been pursuing, and it is that of painting mason jars on pieces of salvaged wood.



I realize to the trained eye, these paintings are kitschy. (Don't think I don't know this. I know!)



But this is kind of the point.


This is the first one I ever did!

I have mentioned this before. I'm the Architectural Salvage Coordinator for Knox Heritage which means I head up a program where people like yourself can donate old building materials instead of throwing them away. We don't salvage out of houses that are going to be torn down because we are anti-tearing down historic houses/buildings, but we do take items here and there that people have laying around after home-improvement/updating projects, and even some things from larger commercial renovations.



It all began at work. I was drawing in a staff meeting at Knox Heritage last year (They knew this, by the way) I was trying to think of a symbol that I could paint on pieces of old wood that had the theme of preservation, something people could relate to, something that could help spread the word about our program, and a light bulb went on: a Mason Jar! It was the kind of idea that you know someone else has thought of, but I decided not to care. Lots of thought to come to the idea, and once the idea came, lots of doing, and less thought (This method is an art in itself).



It's been pretty interesting to make so many of one thing. I paint them in between painting larger, more thoughtful works on canvas. It is nice to have a side project that I enjoy, that is repetitive, sort of mindless.



The first one I sold was at the Riverdale County Fair out in East Knox County.






















Now I sell them via Etsy and at the Market Square Farmers' Market every first and third Saturday of the month. I have mailed them to Colorado, Maryland, Chicago, NYC... I'm a dork; It is so much fun to mail these paintings!



I have plans to make at least 100; I am on number 40, I think. After that, I have a feeling I won't want to paint another mason jar ever again. I don't know yet, but I have to think of another good idea to pick up before number 100. I kind of like this idea of doing editions of 100- more marketable, smaller, folksier art that I can do alongside the other work I am making. I'm trusting I'll get a new idea while making Mason Jar No. 99.

Today I read this post about being a shy business woman on Design Sponge. This article should have begun with "Dear Beth Meadows,"

***

I'm in the midst of trying to pursue painting. As a career? I don't know. All I know is that I love to paint, and I will do what it takes to keep painting.

I realize in order to make this happen I have to kick up my business know-how several notches. The problem is, I am in no way inclined to be a business woman, and if I have deceived anyone into thinking I'm good at it, know that it came with much struggle.

Most artists are solely made to make work, not to be business people, but the world demands us to get out there and promote ourselves. I hate it, most artists do, but we realize we have to go out on a limb if we want to keep making work.

So many artists, however, can't promote themselves without being pretentious, arrogant, or annoying. I sat through many artist lectures at the University of Tennessee which proved this to be true.

This leads me to ask myself: How do I promote myself without being annoying to myself and others? How do I promote myself without sounding arrogant? When I post anything about art on Facebook, how many people does it annoy? Can I still be introverted and awkward? What is the likelihood of someone becoming my benefactor/ agent?

I'll share the answers as I learn them.

When people ask me what artists I admire or inspire me, I feel a little uneasy. For one, I remember work, but not always who made it. Two, the art that most directly inspires me isn't typically found in a museum but rather on my bookshelf.

This leads me to confess something. I am a children's book buying addict.

I'm not addicted to just any children's book but particular ones motivate me to paint more than most things can. For one, the books I grew up with take me back to my shy and quiet childhood. Because most of my paintings are based on memories, this is important. Two, I enjoy the simplicity of line, shape, and color- the flatness of the pictures.

The quintessential example, the book that got me thinking about the paintings I wanted to make in college, is Space Case by James Edward Marshall. The characters, the colors against a nighttime sky, his attention to mundane details, the humor. It's wonderful.


^color against black


^characters


^This is the first drawing I did where I pursued this subject matter. It was 2005, and I replaced the characters with some characters I know. I apologize for the poor quality of this image.

One of my favorite things to do is go to McKays used bookstore and follow the little kid footprints to the children's section. There, amongst the moms, elementary teachers, and small children, I find peace sifting through colorful books, looking for treasures I've missed. I've found many by Marshall, and I buy them all.

One of my favorite finds is Yummers, a story about a turtle named Eugene who encourages his pig friend Emily to exercise more. They go on a walk, which turns into them stopping every few minutes to eat snacks. They eat so much, Emily becomes sick, has to lie down, and blames her woes on the walk. Eugene brings her food to make her feel better.

Brilliant.

I also love this book because on the back is the first photo of Marshall I had ever seen. Of course he would have a precious bulldog.

After this, I decided to write him a letter to express my gratitude to him, but when I searched online for an address, I discovered he had passed away in 1992. I dedicated my last show at the Tomato Head to him instead of writing the letter.

Some have asked if I'd like to write/ illustrate a children's book one day. I have an idea for one, and my goal is to write and illustrate it by the time I'm 55. (I've tried to sit down and do it. It's hard) Until then, I'm making somber, funny, color-against-black, simple yet complex paintings on canvas. I'm also dreaming of how great it would be to talk to this mustached man.

I recently watched When Harry Met Sally, for the hundredth time. Since then I keep thinking about the Wagon Wheel Coffee Table Scene. The way Harry says "Ira!" in turn makes me think of the way George Banks says "Me!" in the Superfluous Buns scene in Father of the Bride.

Below are each of the clips for you to enjoy. I've also included, at the bottom, one of my favorite movie scenes ever as an added bonus.

I don't have the internet at my apartment anymore. My neighbor let me borrow it all year, and he moved, so no more streaming television, no more wasting time on Facebook, and less ability to blog. I consider all these good things.












My home has been tidier and I've taken care of little projects that have been looming over my head for months. Confession: My bathroom lighting is really poor. Why? There is a fixture that I've never put a light bulb in. Last night I finally put one in. It took me eleven months. I don't know if, for a fact, this was taken care of because I now don't have the internet, but I'm going to connect the two. (By the way, when I say internet, I mostly mean Facebook)

It's really not that I'm lazy, but I will be the first to admit I am easily distracted. One of the things that distracts me the most is any type of screen- TVs, computers. I wrote about this before, that I don't have cable, etc. because I am cheap, but there's another reason. It's too easy for me to spend all my time in front of a TV or computer, and when it comes to doing a load of laundry that's been sitting there for weeks or watching the Modern Family, Modern Family will win every time. As a result, I will laugh for 30 minutes watching TV, but the pile of laundry will eat away at my soul day after day. It's not worth it.

For me, the internet is wonderful and alluring but so dangerous at the same time. It is to me what liquor is to an alcoholic, and in all its goodness, it has added much pathetic-ness to my life.

Would you like a glimpse into my pathetic-ness? Well, sometimes when I am out with people, having a good time, and the night is coming to an end, I have this little tugging desire to go home and check Facebook. Lame!

I don't have to explain why this is bothersome, but what is worse is that more times than not, all I end up doing is scrolling through pictures of people that make me feel unnecessary emotions- loneliness, dissatisfaction, jealousy...

I am reminded that underneath everyone's (/ my own) photos, status updates, and witty banter, there is a real, awkward, struggling, wonderful person underneath, and I'm too lazy and intimidated to call them.

The moral of this story is, I think I'll keep my apartment internet free, at least for now. A cleaner home, one where I take care of things, is more important than being "connected" all of the time. I'd like to be more present with people and quit wondering how many notifications I've racked up while I've been away from my computer. Again, lame!

Besides, I have internet at work and in my studio so I can get all of my stalking done during those hours anyway.

"So what does this mean for your blog?!" you worriedly ask.  It means I may not post every week. It also means the first draft of these expanded thoughts will most likely be hand written, then typed into Text Edit, and then copied and pasted here, which is cool because it will be closer to how I first began writing and just might make my writing better. But don't hold your breath.