I'm selling these altered prints of drawings this Saturday at the Market Square Farmers' Market at $4 a piece. Why? Because I love you.

Learn more about them here.



I'll also be selling the original drwaings for bundles of money, if that interests you. Just kidding, but really. The drawings are 5 x 7" and most are framed.



I'll have Mason Jars paintings and salvage for sale, too. But don't feel like you have to buy anything. It's always nice when people stop and say hello.

Managing an architectural salvage program for a non-profit may seem like one of the coolest jobs around (It is. I boast.), but I must tell you, every job has its dismal moments. There is a point when monotony rears its ugly head for every career, and the day-to-day can become painstaking. (I hope art never gets that way.)

But then that job puts you in a situation that reminds you why you're doing what you're doing, and new life is breathed into your work.

This happened the other day. I received a call from a man who had some doors he wanted me to see. On Monday, I drove out to his address in South Knoxville.

{Sidenote: South Knoxville is a hidden gem. It's just really something else.}

I passed his house a couple of times before I realized it was his; each time I did, I thought to myself, "My, that house is precious." Lo and behold it was his.



I drove down the gravel driveway, noticing a beautiful black and white chicken sharing a drink with a cat out of a water bowl. I passed two Saabs in the driveway, and the man directed me to pull around the circle garden with a fountain in the middle of it.



Some people I meet through this job are crazy. Some repeat themselves over and over again and don't listen to a word I say. But then there are some I just know I'm going to like. I know it right off the bat.

The man led me to the barn, chock full of old chairs, furniture, wood, doors, etc. He showed me this beautiful mantel that he had stripped and is currently trying to sell on Craigslist.






















Right past his barn were all the doors. "I pulled them out for you so that you could see them." Perfect.



His wife, came out soon after. As they pointed out everything, they discussed where they got each item and wondered out loud if they thought they should hang on to anything in case they wanted to use it some day.



Their home was her grandmother's, and they are renovating it.

"Want to come inside and see if there's anything you want in there?" the woman said.

"We don't have anything in there to give her!" the man said.

"Ok, I'll show you around anyway," she said.

"I'd like that," I complied.



Forty-five minutes later, after receiving the tour of all three floors of the house and and also her gardens, it was time for me to head on.



"Come back anytime," she said.

"Don't say that unless you mean it," I replied.

Sadly, I'll most likely never go back over there.



On these errands, people tell me to come back all of the time. Do they really mean it? I suppose I'll know when my hair is long and grey and I have chickens and gardens, and a beautiful old house, and a barn full of antiques.

I've made a few more mason jar paintings. Hope you have a ball looking at them.






















^Preserves No. 84
Sold





















^Preserves No. 85
For Sale






















^Preserves No. 86
Sold






















^ Preserves No. 87
For Sale























^Preserves No. 88
For Sale






















^ Preserves No. 89
For Sale

I've had an art show up in downtown Knoxville this month that I'm taking down next week. It's at Kate Moore Creative and Jennie Andrews Photography studios at 123 South Gay Street. You may still be able to pop in there to see it during normal weekday business hours Monday through Wednesday of next week.

The final product of this show was really surprising to me, as I had a different idea for it, even a week before the opening. Changing my mind right before a show, however, is nothing new. I intended to make simple graphite drawings of buildings, but the idea to make multiple xeroxes of those drawings didn't come until about 4 days before I hung the show.

The originals- graphite drawings

I still didn't know what the outcome would be when I began hanging it. It took me about 7 hours to install, maybe 2 to 3 hours physical and 4-5 hours mental (because I am A} mentally inept or B} a creative genius. The jury's still out on that one)

So I made these small graphite drawings of buildings which was a welcome relief to me. Through them, I fell more deeply in love with this mysterious thing called art, which has all ready cast a spell on me. Graphite on paper is the equivalent to young autumnal* love. I became lost in the simplicity, the honesty, the vulnerability of it.

I drew buildings on the Knox Heritage and East Tennessee Preservation Alliance endangered lists- beautiful dilapidated buildings, schoolhouses, and homes. I wanted to "give them a voice," so to speak, so I put speech bubbles above them.

I decided to leave the originals blank, being satisfied with them visually and conceptually (you can see one of them here), but I also wanted to add text, so I decided to make multiple copies of them at Kinko's.

***

Over the past few years, I've been recuperating from an emotional low that hit me right after college. (I mention it a lot. I apologize if it becomes annoying) It had been building up for years before then, and so it makes sense that it would take years to heal from. In an effort to reclaim a sense of emotional well-being, I have filled journals with thoughts, read numerous books, talked to generous and loving people, and even researched online how to cope with pain, suffering, and stress...

***

I decided to put these two things together- the dilapidated buildings and the research I found online, statements or words people can say to help them cope with pain or suffering. From there, I began looking up quotes from famous people on the subject of pain. I filled in the speech bubbles with these words on the xeroxed pieces.

***

It might be presumptuous of me to assume what a building would say if it could speak, but I soon realized this was more for me than the buildings. Making these was a way for me to cope with the fact that there's nothing I can do to help these buildings. I have no money, no power, but I can draw, that's it.

Also, I hate to even say this as I hope people would realize it on their own, but it's meant to be tongue-in-cheek. Everyone knows it sucks admitting you have a problem with anything, but when you come out of it, (it might take some time, but) you can finally laugh at how desperate you once were. And it's funny because I find the websites on coping to be just as depressing as being depressed (Here is an example). It's all just too much...

So anyway, here is my artist statement and more photos of the show. And thank you, thank you for going to see it if you did. You are the bomb.org.

Of course, there were mason jars ;)

*Autumn love is far more romantic than summer love, at least in my book.

photo by Tinah Utsman

Here are the mason jar paintings I donated to Knox Heritage's fall fundraiser called The Scruffy City Soiree.

This leads me to give some advice: If you're looking to gain some exposure for your artwork, consider donating to an auction for an organization whose cause you can get behind. It puts your work in front of potential buyers of your work while also supporting a good cause. Win win.

Just make sure when you drop off your piece to include some business cards and a short artist statement.

Class dismissed.

Timidity Enters the Maze
acrylic, varnish, and glitter on canvas
28" x 22"
2008

In honor of the fact that I just mailed this painting off to Denver, CO, I thought I'd write about it today. It was made in 2008, close to when I graduated from college.

The idea for this painting had been in the works for quite some time.

Over the years leading up to the it, I became obsessed with this night time scene on a journal that someone gave me years before (it's the second image when you follow the link.) I loved it, but art school pushed me to make a different type of artwork, so it wasn't until after college that I gave it a try.

I was listening to a lot of Smashing Pumpkins back then, too. The image on the journal and their music put me in a similar mood- melancholy, pensive.

The maze in the image also made me think of the scene in The Sound of Music, when Maria dances with the Captain out in the garden. It's long been one of my most favorite cinematic scenes, and it is most directly tied to the composition of the painting.

So in 2008, all of these things came together at a time when I was very worried about where my life was heading- career-wise, in my friendships, relationships, mentally, spiritually. So I made this painting as a reminder to move forward into the unknown, in spite of my timidity.

***

If you like this painting, I have prints of it, and they are for sale here. Let me know if you'd like another size, and I can make it happen. Don't be timid.

I worked a lot last week for Knox Heritage (my part time job), as we had our biggest fundraising event of the year on Saturday night. I'm thankful it's over, and even more thankful I get to take time off this week for working so much last week.

I'm either going to be extremely productive in the realm of art and salvage with all this free time, or I'm going to lie on my couch a lot. (I spent this morning watching Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind.) Hopefully I will find a good balance of both.

I'd also like to swim a lot this week. I've been going to the YWCA for the past month or so. It's in the basement of a beautiful old building (see photo below) and membership is only $40 a year. It's my new favorite way to decompress and exercise. My only complaint is that when I'm the only one there, I'm self-conscious about swimming in front of the life guard, who stares at me as I go back and forth. It's something I'm getting used to.



***

Money has been hard to come by these days, but the past couple of weeks, I've been selling more mason jar paintings, via Yee-Haw, my etsy shop, the Farmers' Market, an art show...






















I was going to stop at 100, but if I'm not tired of making them, I'd like to keep going. They're a good side project- fun, simple, and as my hands make them more easily as time goes on, I like them more and more. I think I'll know when to stop when the time comes.

***

Money looks different when you are (pseudo) self-employed, trying to "make it." When I sell artwork or salvage now, I'm so grateful. It's amazing not to have any clue if money will come, and then see it come- difficult, but thrilling.

***

I'm thinking about this fundraiser we had on Saturday. It was a big event. I was nervous and overwhelmed, but thankful to have a role in making it come together. All of our staff had to work so hard.

It can be tricky to put on a big event for so many people. Some made my evening extremely difficult, but then some, the ones with golden souls, would make me stop and look them in the eyes and they would say, "Thank you so much for all the work you've done," and it made up for the shortcomings of their less empathetic peers.

***

When I am extremely wealthy, you have right to slap me across the face if I'm rude to someone in the service industry, non-profit realm, anyone. Money or no money, we can all act entitled to certain things from time to time. It's easy, especially in hectic situations, to forget to breathe and be kind. I'm just as bad as the next person.

I realized Saturday night though, that when you feel like you're getting the crap kicked out of you by an impatient person, to take a deep breath and say, "I want to help you. Please help me understand what you need, and I'll do my best to help." Most people just want someone to listen to them, and when they realize you are, you can see their muscles loosen and their brow unfurrow; it's like magic. Unfortunately, this doesn't work with everyone.

***

I put three mason jar paintings in the auction that night, and the winning bidder hugged me when she found out I made them. Granted, she may have had a lot of wine that night, I don't know, but it was genuine, and she helped settle my nerves that had been wound so tight.

***

I've been hanging out with an old friend lately. After years of not seeing one another, it's strange to be spending time together again and surprising to both of us how much we enjoy one another. We go on bike rides at night and it makes me feel like I'm in college again, which is a feeling I always like, especially now that fall is here.



***

Life is not like the movies where relationships are mended overnight or even in a month. People change slowly, and sometimes it takes years to have what you wanted all along or to let go of things that don't matter that much. At least that has been true in my life.

***

Tomorrow I'm going to write about some art.