New thoughts, new art, new life

Original thought. For me, it is a requirement. A natural state of being. As a liberal, crazy, flighty artist-type, “What if?” is a phrase that flies through my head 20 times a day.

But for others, life exists inside the framework of what came before. The ideas are there, but sometimes that person lacks the ability, courage or voice to bring them out into the world. 

Staying the same is safe. Letting things continue as they always have. Not speaking up. Overlooking injustice and unfairness. Smiling at someone when they make a sexist comment rather than correcting them. Ignoring someone when they make a racist statement rather than pointing it out. 

All of these are ways in which we deny our own original thought, and conform to the way things have always been. Not rocking the boat breeds more of the same. 

Original thoughts, ideas and talents are things each of us possess that are solely our own. They belong to us, but they don't have to stop with us.

Making it a point to share them with others, to create the opportunity for discussion, to use those thoughts and ideas to make life better, this is the stuff of which life is made. In my opinion, at least.

This month, the local gallery in my small Kentucky town opened a new show that epitomized original thought. From the concept to the artists to the art itself, this show was a first for the gallery, and a first for the town. 

For a small town Gallery that normally showcases beautifully crafted watercolors and oil paintings, it was a risk to put a show on the walls that spoke to those of us in the "under 50" generation. 

As a part of GenX, we grew up with comic books, skateboards and street art long before artists like Banksy made it a real part of the fabric of our society. Without his original thinking, his courage, his attitude and his voice, street art would never have hung on gallery walls anywhere. 

And now, in a small gallery in a small southern town, standing in contrast to the bucolic landscapes and beautifully crafted wood pieces, comic book art, skateboard art, screenprinting and street art gave a pop to the exhibit wall at Gallery on the Square. 

For Gallery Director Barb Markell-Thomas, the show's opening day was the culmination of a year's worth of planning. One local citizen was the sponsor of the show, Janice Keith, an artist and outspoken freethinker in her own right.

Rather than a stuffy reception for opening night, Markell-Thomas held a Saturday event in which attendees could watch the art being created. These panels allowed the public to have a voice and create their own art.

Loyd Gant

 Franklin native Loyd Gant, who is a published comic book author and artist, drew cartoons for people and showcased his comics. 

Coty DiMichele

 Thomas Kennedy and Coty DiMichele of Pyramid Prints showed off their artistic prowess and demonstrated screenprinting by printing a shirt for each attendee at the show.








 

Derek Williamson, a Nashville, Tn. artist, was on hand to help with an actual outside display of street art in which attendees of the opening could make their own social, political and personal statement on the giant panels. His custom painted skateboard art hangs as the centerpiece of the newest exhibit, featuring everything from Nashville themes to movies to social statements.

I am writing this today because I want to show that free thought, original thought, new and different thought, all of these things can exist anywhere. Even people from the smallest, most conservative towns can support it when they have the courage to give a voice to these freethinkers. 

Thank you, ladies, for having courage to give these artists a voice in our community.

Here's to you!

Lately I've had a ridiculous and overwhelming urge to get out my sewing machine, blow off the dust and start sewing things.

Now, while I'm not a novice behind the sewing machine, I'm no expert either. I've made curtains, hemmed skirts, tailored in t-shirts-easy things that aren't a big deal. But pleats, zig zags, anything with curves or any kind of detail, forget it.

I can sew a straight line. On a good day. But for some reason right now I feel like I can totally slipcover my sofa cushions, make that tank dress into something cuter by adding material from a skirt that doesn't fit anymore. Or take a skirt that is too big and attach a shirt that is too short to make a cuter one piece dress from it.(Damn you Whitney!)

I know. Anyone who knows me knows. I am delusional. It's like when I watch Olympic ice skating and actually believe in my mind that I could pull off a triple axel or a salchow. What? Like it's hard?

In reality, I'm sure my sewing machine will stay safely tucked away in the closet where it allegedly is, but I have no idea because I've never unpacked it since we moved here 4 years ago. I am not even sure it made the trip here from Pennsylvania.

But the reason I'm so delusionally inspired?

I'm surrounded right now by a lot of artistic people. People with talents who actually earn a living, no matter how modest, through their arts. This, I love. This, inspires me. This, is necessary for me.

Friends who paint, dance, take pictures, write, design and create clothing, paint pottery, make soaps and candles, run galleries, and just “imaginate” their way through life.

As someone who spent the first 15 years of my adult life in a profession that was very, very wrong for me, it's hard to explain what this means to me. I now make my living in an artistic profession and have done so for almost 3 years now.

I returned to my writing almost three years ago, first through my blog and then through freelancing for the newspaper where I now work. I have written a novel that needs some serious attention and editing, and have begun a memoir that needs a lot more of everything before it is complete.

My point is this. If I weren't surrounded by so much creativity I wouldn't be nearly as inspired to be creative, artistic and offbeat. I feed off their energy. And I hope they do mine as well, in some small way.

I know now something that I never realized before. It is...stifling for me not to have other people around me who understand what it is like to have this....thing. And equally as energizing to have them around.

But artists, we're a different breed, all of us our own kind of crazy. Some reign it in and try to maintain a normal façade while others revel in their eccentricities. But we all have it, whether we like to admit it or not.

We're neurotic, hyper, depressed, schizophrenic, bi-polar, split personality sons of bitches who'd run off all our friends if only they weren't as batshit crazy as we are. And the people who love us, well they'd better really love us. 1,000%, especially if they are a non-artistic ilk. We can only hope they love us not only in spite of our crazy but because of it (at least a little bit of the time).

It's been just over 3 years since I kicked off Tinfoil Magnolia in April, 2010. Although I've neglected her somwhat over the past year or so, she is not forgotten. I feel every other day that I will reign my life in just enough to at least commit 3 days per week to posting here. Sometimes (well most of the time) it just doesn't happen. But this blog means a lot to me.

Yesterday a friend of mine told me that he'd received a pretty serious diagnosis. Not one, I don't think, that he was entirely surprised to hear, not one he hadn't suspected. But hearing it in black and white, sometimes that's another thing, isn't it?

Although we've never met in person, I consider him a friend. He was the first non-relative or friend to comment or follow Tinfoil Magnolia when I began the blog. I had no idea who he was or how he found me, but I am so glad he did.

So I'm thinking of my friend and his wife and family today. His new diagnosis? Well, it's always been part of who he is. Part of the artist crazy. It doesn't change how I think or feel about him. I don't have to deal with it daily as his family does, but to change that part of him, I would think, would change who he is on a basic level. As it would for any of us.

The fact of the matter is, and this goes for all of us, it makes us who and what we are. Our narcicissms, our addictions, our faults, our neuroses-they are all part of us. Our insecurities, our grandiose thoughts, our voices and all of our personalitites. It makes life wonderful and difficult and passionate and thoughtful. And I embrace that about all of my friends.

No matter how crazy they might make me. :)