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



Here.

“You only are free when you realize you belong no place — you belong every place — no place at all. The price is high. The reward is great…”  Maya Angelou It took me a long time to understand this quote. Decades. Oh, I was familiar with the “no place at all.”  That didn’t seem to be a problem. I never thought I fit in with my town, or even my family. And that is a lonely place. Because we all want to belong, it’s our nature as humans. It’s why we have gatherings, schools, religions.  And so I began my journey. Away from this town. Away from this state. And eventually, away from this country. But each new place,...

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W.W.I.D.?

I accidentally fell in love with a French man. Thank God, for accidents, random acts, chance meetings, fate, worlds colliding, (maybe they are all just the chances we take) (whatever you want to call them)! These are the unknown gifts – the risks we take – the dreams we pursue without knowledge or permission. And that is the gift, I suppose, the uncertainty, because maybe if we knew everything involved, we might not do anything.  If I had known how hard it was to actually learn a new language (French) in mid-life (that’s maybe generous), I’m not sure I would have made all the same decisions – and how tragic – I would have missed out on the love of...

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Ours.

The first time we drove along La Corniche, the radio was playing.  I didn’t understand the language.  The more the announcer talked, the more the view disappeared.  It’s hard to see when you’re drowning.  Each word was an anchor. It was so hard to breathe.  What was I thinking?  This couldn’t possibly be for me.  This view.  This bienvenue.  No, not for me. I couldn’t see the blue, the turquoise… I was going under. Each word I didn’t understand said you don’t belong here. It’s funny when we don’t understand something how quickly we can translate. Create our own narrative. “Use the back door,” she said.  She knew I didn’t belong to “the club” – The Alexandria Golf Club.  That...

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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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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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