The Owl of Athena
acrylic, oil, and varnish on canvas
approximately 4.5 x 6'
2011


I decided to make this painting while I was making The Poltroon Hard at Work (Athena and Cyclops), shown below.






















To explain The Owl of Athena painting, allow me to quote directly from Wikipedia:

In Greek and Roman mythology, Glaucus is the symbolic owl of Athena, or Minerva, respectively. Often referred to as the "owl of Athena" or "owl of Minerva", it accompanies Minerva in Roman myths, seen as a symbol of wisdom because the owl is capable of seeing even in the dark and of vigilance because the owl is awake at night.

The nineteenth-century idealist philosopher G.W.F. Hegel famously noted that "the owl of Minerva spreads its wings only with the falling of the dusk"— meaning that philosophy comes to understand a historical condition just as it passes away. Philosophy cannot be prescriptive because it understands only in hindsight.

"One more word about giving instruction as to what the world ought to be. Philosophy in any case always comes on the scene too late to give it... When philosophy paints its gloomy picture then a form of life has grown old. It cannot be rejuvenated by the gloomy picture, but only understood. Only when the dusk starts to fall does the owl of Minerva spread its wings and fly."

***

To me, the owl of Athena is a symbol of the tenacity needed to pursue wisdom. In other words, it takes persistence, even vigilance, to make sure our mistakes don't destroy us. When we fall down we either choose to become resentful and bitter, or we choose to go after goodness, truth, and understanding.

***

The original painting and prints of this painting are for sale. One may also view this painting at my show on November 5 at the Birdhouse.

I'm sitting in my friend Amelia's den, waiting for her to walk with me to the Public House for a night cap.

Her voice calls out from her bedroom, "Guess what trend I'm bringing back?"

My mind begins sifting through the possibilities, but she enters the room before I can form an educated guess.

She holds up a pair of worn out leather boots. "Timberlands."

"Noooo." I say. "No."

We laugh and she asks, "Will you be embarrassed if I wear these?"

"No... I just don't want them to catch on."

"Oh, it's going to spread like wildfire," she says as she wraps the long laces around the the back of the high top and ties them back in front.

"The ole wrap around... you know what I'm talking about."

I do know what she's talking about.

***

They actually don't look that bad on her, but nothing ever does.










***

If you're curious about the evolution of Timberland fashion, I encourage a little image searching. Very interesting. Below is an example (from this website) Seems like they've stepped up their game.

I watched Before Sunrise and Before Sunset this past week. The first time I saw them was not too long ago, but I've watched them several times since then.

I 'm not going to review them, but I highly recommend them- especially if you've traveled any... or fallen in love with someone, specifically while overseas...

but who would do something like that?

***

This song is at the end of Before Sunset, and that is how I learned who Nina Simone was.

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.