This album couldn't have come at a better time

I got to learn things, learn them the hard way
To see what it feels like, no matter what they say

Sometimes it's hard to do the right thing
When the pressure's coming down like lightning
It's like they want me to be perfect
When they don't even know that I'm hurting

This life's not easy, I'm not made out of steel
Don't forget that I'm human, don't forget that I'm real
You act like you know me, but you never will
But that's one thing that I know for sure

I'll show you
I'll show you
I'll show you
I'll show you

- J.B.

Mural, Mural, On the Wall

When you're an artist and people want to talk to you about promoting community/unity/revitalization through art, an inevitable idea that comes to mind is, "Let's make a community mural!"

A few murals have popped up in Knoxville over the past few years, some I like, some... not so much. Running the Salvage Shop with its large blank exterior wall makes people hum with the excitement about the potential. I am halfway excited and halfway very nervous.

I'm learning to redefine the word "mural" in my brain, for when someone says "mural" to me, I assume they mean like the one they paint in Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit to revitalize the neighborhood. (I wish I could find a picture of this; I cannot.)

I might be making this up, but this is what I see: Different colored children hand in hand around a world. It goes on from there with floating images of rainbows and peace signs covering the whole wall with every color straight out of the tube. 

What's strange is, this thing that's supposed to make me feel united and at peace with my fellow man really just makes me feel agitated. 

What could be the cure for my fear of murals? Thinking more on these things: Using only a few colors. Mixing colors so they aren't right out of the tube. Hand-lettering. High graphics. Detailed minimalism. Good design. Focused subject matter.

I admit it. I've made one or two bad murals in the past, and I'm sorry. But I'll be ready next time if the opportunity should present itself. This is my vow to you, public arts enthusiast. 

Beth MeadowsComment
Reality/Dream/Reality

Almost a year ago, I was at my parents' house and found all my beads and hemp necklaces from high school. Making really bad jewelry used to be one of my favorite pastimes.

The beads sat on a shelf in my closet for months, but I pulled them down about a month ago and made earrings until 2 am one morning.

This came at a time when I read something that asked, "What enjoyable activity makes you lose track of time?" and I could name ZERO. Even art was not on my list, at least not at that very moment. I couldn't think of any activity that took me away from checking my phone every two seconds.

I felt so bad about this. Something had to be done. 

It took a few days for me to open up those bead boxes and connect again to that joy or getting lost in something. And, for me, to do any activity other than watch Netflix at that hour is nothing short of a miracle. 

Since then I have had visions of making more elaborate pieces, but I don't know how. 

***

Last night I had a dream about visiting an exhibition where an artist displayed different beautiful beads and gems on the walls of a rectangular white room with high ceilings. Dim lighting spot-lighted the beads. They were for sale and a lot had been picked through. I was late to come to the exhibition. It was actually about to end, but there were still plenty of beautiful ones left to choose from. My hands were soon full.

***

This morning, I did a two minute internet search and emailed someone about taking a jewelry-making class. 

The temperature is dropping. Brace yourselves.

I had to wake up early the other morning to run errands in West Knoxville, a very rare outing for me during that time of day. It was the first really cold morning of the season, which always makes me feel nervous about the months ahead.

I'm in my car, heat blasting, drinking coffee, and find myself behind a car whose back window is rolled down so their Husky could stick its head out.

Soft rolling fur. Pink tongue dangling. Purest Joy. 

I will carry this image with me over the next few months. 

That Verdant Moss, Tho

Winter is coming, and I'm preparing. Here is my list of supplies:

  1. The Office
  2. Parks & Rec
  3. Harry Potter (never read it)
  4. Anne Lamott (never read her)
  5. write more (this is a start)
  6. my parents' cabin
  7. hot chocolate & peppermint schnapps
  8. hiking in the Smoky Mountains (always & 4evr)
  9. running (this will be hard, it's all ready hard with the dark)
  10. begin art projects for 2016 (i'm excited!)
  11. my Instagram obsessions: designers, musicians... Justin Bieber (what?!?)
  12. plan things- events, parties, trips (& letting go of other plans & planning)
  13. give away and organize (this task goes on and on)
  14. make spaces around me better (how do I finally act on this? what am I waiting on?)
  15. Kill Bill (sudden urge to watch both of them)
  16. Sleepless in Seattle (all ready watched When Harry Met Sally & You've Got Mail)
  17. find a beautiful coat
  18. ponder the allure of both pop culture & a simple life

 

Beth MeadowsComment