Seperation 20″x30″ mixed media on canvas
I have a sister, 2 years older than me, and as children, we were inseparable. I have fond memories of her holding my hand wherever we went and if she had to leave my side, she would often hug & kiss me on the cheek as we parted. Of course, we had our moments of sibling rivalry that came with being a kid, but what sticks with me is the additional layer of protection and comfort that she was in my life.
I remember how devastating my first day of vacation bible school was. The bus ride there was fantastic & it involved all the kids yelling out the windows: “HONK YER HORN!!!” to random truck drivers that went by. The excitement and screaming involved when one of them actually honked their horn, was immeasurable but, all this excitement quickly dissipated as we unloaded from the bus and started to get separated by ages. It was at that moment, that I got a sinking feeling in my gut as I realized I had to be taken away from my sister.
I tried to be a “big girl” and not cry, but I could feel the lump in my throat getting bigger & bigger. In the classroom, I was given a page from a coloring book with a picture of Jesus on it and only one green crayon. Though I knew Jesus wasn’t green, I focused all my energy into coloring Jesus inside the lines till I couldn’t stand it anymore and the tears started to flow. One of the teachers came over to me and I told her my stomach hurt. She asked if I wanted to see my sister and of course, I said yes and once again, I was reunited with her and all was good in my world again.
When my sister started kindergarten, it took a while for me to get used to watching her get on a bus and leave for a strange place without me, but it was a great day when I finally got to ride the bus with her as I started my first day of school. That joy quickly went away once we got there because once again, I found out we had to be separated. This was a vicious cycle in my life but, it was one I finally learned to cope with 🙂
“The Box” 5″x5″ mixed media on wood, part of the Imagination Squared Project now on display at the Main Library in downtown Jacksonville
So, I thought long and hard about what to put on my “square” for the Imagination Squared Project. After much deliberation, I decided to go with my refrigerator box memory. Most of us have a similar experience, someone shows up with a giant box, the next thing you know it’s been turned into a “house” or maybe a “fort.” In this particular depiction, the box was turned into a sort of “ride.”
My sister and I would get a couple of neighborhood kids to help out as we got in the box with the family dog. After we were nice and comfortable, the flaps were closed and that’s when the real fun began. The kids on the outside had the simple but important job of rolling the box down the driveway. Not only was this dangerous, but it was so much fun. I still have no idea how we all survived with only minor bumps and bruises and I know that if the humane society were to find out the dog was involved in this insanity then, he may of been confiscated but, in our defense, he seemed to enjoy it.
“Chiva- 6 Chickens” 5″x5″ mixed media on canvas
“Chiva- 5 Chickens” 5″x5″ mixed media on canvas- SOLD
“Chiva-4 Chickens” 5″x5″ mixed media on canvas
I have several memories of visiting Colombia as a child. My memories of the landscape, culture, and people are still as vivid as always. I remember being in the capital, Bogotá, riding in taxis and buses, watching the mountains role by, making eye contact with the llamas and cows on the side of the rode, smelling the various foods from the street vendors, and just taking it all in.
When we would take trips outside of Bogotá, many times, we would have take a special bus. Unlike buses here in the USA, it was a slightly different experience and these special buses are commonly referred to as “chivas.” Many times the chivas were overly decorated with bright colors and over loaded with people, merchandise and various livestock. Sometimes these bus rides would entail several hours of riding down winding dirt roads, through mountains, and sometimes over landslides at ridiculous speeds. I often wondered, how the chiva didn’t go tumbling down the mountain side. In my most recent travels to Colombia, the chiva is more of a tourist attraction now than a standard, but I can’t help reminiscing of the adrenaline rush as we hastily made our way to the next town.
artWALK @ TAC
31 W. Adams St.