Jodi’s Blog ... From the Artist’s Heart — art



Let it be me.

I was listening to Michelle Wolf on Youtube yesterday, and oh, she was funny.  That kind of funny that is so close to the truth... so close that it makes you laugh really hard, and then nervously, and then... well you start to think.  She was making a joke, and/or a point about how we are blaming a lot on men these days, especially white men, (and not without reason), but she goes on to say that white women have to admit that they are part of the problem... and she responds for them, "Me????  You can't blame me!!!!???...  I didn't do ANYTHING."  Pause.  "Yes. Exactly." It's so easy to blame everyone else for everything.  "Well, they didn't... they shouldn't...

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September Swim

They laughed a little louder, they cried a little softer, they lived a little stronger, because they stood together...friends. I never remember until September, that summer is actually going to end.  I go out early morning.  The sun is lower, barely making it above the pool house.  It flickers, with promise, and I sit down to open the cover.  It's cooler now, the September morning.  I put two towels around me as the cover spins slowly, revealing the blue, inch by inch.  Is it taking longer to open?  No.  Patience.  But patience is fleeting.  Or is it the time?  Summer, ever since I can remember was fast.  Off the school bus, into the water, back on the school bus.  Still...

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And so she would dance.

“No one expected me. Everything awaited me.”― Patti Smith, Just Kids I had packed it all securely on a pallet.  Circled and circled with shrink wrap.  Paintings and dreams deserve extra protection.   The Statue of Liberty was standing just for me.  I couldn't tell if the other passengers on the plane knew it, but I was sure.  I hung the dancer center stage, per her request.  She stood there with such confidence, (Lady Liberty like) that she almost made me believe, I too, belonged here.  She sold immediately.  People actually bid higher for her.  My heart became the dancer she always believed she could be.   Last night I watched Restless Creature on Netflix.  It is the story of Wendy Whelan, of the...

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Fall in love with your bathroom

  This time of year, back to school, summer fading, I always get a little melancholy.  Like the word itself, the feeling is hard to define.  I rather like it, even the hollowness, because it revives a need inside to begin… begin something, find something, fill that empty space.  And so I clean.  I shake the rugs and vacuum, and wipe the mirrors and light the candles and open the windows, and the sun says, “hang on,” and the breeze says, “look ahead.”  I embrace both and find comfort in the transition.  I find comfort in the here.  I fall in love with my bathroom. I recently put my newest painting in my bathroom.  The blue warms my soul every...

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No more abandonings.

Yesterday I was looking for something in our pile of scrap metal and iron, (yes, we have one),and I found this piece and knew immediately that it had to be a frame.  It was beautiful, it just needed a cowboy (and who hasn’t said that at least twice in their lifetime).  Dominique cleaned it up with vinegar, and I painted a cowboy for this lovely frame.   I want to see things, not for what they are – or were – but for what they could be.  Maybe if we could do that for each other, too…  No more waste.  It is, we are, not disposable.  Let’s find the beauty in everything. No more abandonings.

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