The 11th Hour

“The first thing I thought of was their mothers.”

Iโ€™m writing this at the end of Veterans Day. Ten to midnight. Not the key time of the holiday, which is properly the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month – the precise time of the signing of the armistice that ended World War I. Hence the original name of the day, Armistice Day. It was changed to Veterans Day under Eisenhower.

And that makes sense because our veterans deserve the recognition. It is literally the least we can do for them, after all, considering how we, as a nation, routinely renege on all our other promises to those who put themselves in danger in service to us.

But to me, November 11 will always be Armistice Day. The day the War to End All Wars ended. Of course, that didnโ€™t hold, did it? Another good reason to change the name.

But hear me out on this. Maybe we should keep the old name. 

Iโ€™ve always thought a wonderful way to honor our veterans would be to make fewer of them. To be less eager – even cavalier – about sending our young people out to fight, possibly die, for what are, increasingly, political or, worse yet, financial causes. It would definitely show respect for our veterans to quit extending wars indefinitely, at the very least.

Rather, Iโ€™d like to work towards a world in which those brave enough to risk their lives to fight for others are honored by not wasting their courage. By avoiding conflict as much as humanly possible, minimizing it when it cannot be avoided, and ending it quickly and completely.

So I think I will always celebrate Armistice Day on Veterans Day. A holiday dedicated to ending war. To agreeing on peace. To stopping the violence between nations.

Because of Armistice Day, 11 is a lucky number to me. An auspicious number. In western numerology, it is one of the Master Numbers, double-digit numbers which amplify their inherent meanings and energies. 11 represents spiritual awareness, a profound connection to higher wisdom. It carries the harmony, sensitivity, and empathy of numeral 2, and multiplies the innovativeness, focus, willingness to embrace change of numeral 1, empowering both with spiritual energy.

One might say that numeral 11 symbolizes the power to end wars, not by conquest or defeat, suppression or suspension, but by actually ending them. That strange and vast power that can get people to agree at last to just stop fighting each other.

I think thatโ€™s a power worth celebrating – worth cultivating – especially in a world so angry and full of people eager for war, whatever their reasons may be.

By the way, in tarot, the 11th card of the Major Arcana is Justice in the Waite-Smith deck. Justice is the balance of right and wrong and the power of natural and secular law. In some other decks, the 11th card is Strength, aka Fortitude, which teaches us to master our angers and fears, to tame them and put them to good use. The number 1 card is The Magician who uses the tools of life to make stuff happen, and number 2 is The High Priestess who offers insight into inner truths.

Interesting things to consider when seeking peace in a time of conflict.


Notes:

Illustration: “Judgment,” mixed media assemblage referencing the return of the dead of WWI as climate change melts the glaciers of the Italian Alps, releasing the remains of soldiers lost in ice all this time.

This essay’s word count is 542, which adds up to 11.

Get to know the artist: Springtime Edition

Happy Vernal Equinox Day! I thought I’d celebrate the season with a selection of some new and older works on the seasonal theme. No explanations. Not in any particular order. Comments and questions are welcome.

Enjoy!

Studio News: Exhibition: Dark Tales, Familiars and Objects of Divination

My assemblage, Augury, is included in the autumn exhibition in the Inside-Out Gallery outside the CVS at Davis Square, Somerville. See it there, because it will be seeing you. Happy Halloween!

โ€œDark Tales, Familiars, and Objects of Divinationโ€ is presented by Inside-Out Gallery and Somerville Arts Council and will run through November.

Augury, mixed media assemblage.

Dull November Brings the Blast

JFries squirrel border 11.2020

Then the leaves are whirling fast…

Well, darn it. September got ahead of me. October got off the leash entirely. November has been very uncooperative. And now itโ€™s Thanksgiving. Letโ€™s think about what we have to be thankful for.

Fair warning: Iโ€™m going to be blunt again because, apparently, thatโ€™s my medium. Nothing herein should come as a surprise. ๐Ÿ˜‰

I am deeply grateful that both my sainted mother and myself are healthy, as are my friends and family as of last report. I donโ€™t know how the friends and family have managed it, but Mom and I have done it by draconian measures, which are not being lifted any time soon – home, distance, sanitation, masking, no exceptions ever. Life has been completely insane in the US this year, and the madness continues, Iโ€™m sorry to say. But, so far, so good at our house.

I am grateful to almost 80 million of my fellow Americans for making Joe Biden our next President – and equally to the point, Donald Trump NOT our next President – and if anyone out there wants to start muttering about recounts and lawsuits, stow it because Iโ€™m not interested. We still have to get that person physically out of the White House, of course, but we did unseat him, so we can check that off our list of things to do, at long last.

And I am grateful for the roof over our heads and the dinner that will be on our table this holiday. Food, shelter, health, and a light at the end of the Trump tunnel – I think those are blessings enough for this hellish year.

Now we are less than two months away from 2021, and I feel a combination of relief and anxiety. The results of the election were like having a crushing weight lifted off my chest. I can breathe, but four years of that tension have left me like a plate of jelly, unable to pull myself together.

I am working on some things, though. First, Iโ€™m doing NaNoWriMo (National Novel Writing Month), because when youโ€™re exhausted and brain-fried, the best tonic is trying to crank out 50,000 words in a month. Iโ€™m not doing too well, but the month isnโ€™t over so…fingers crossed? Iโ€™ll tell you all about it when itโ€™s over. (Spoiler: Itโ€™s not going to happen, and Iโ€™m okay with that.)

Also, bats and moths are in progress because why not? I like bats and moths. This is an experiment Iโ€™ve been mulling a long time, making hard sculptures out of traditional origami. Expect to see more.

Iโ€™ve been designing dollhouses and books, putting my garden to bed between rainstorms, rethinking my approaches to social media and time management, and wandering off on artistically esoteric (or esoterically artsy) mind trips which take me far from the madding crowd and which I hope will produce work in the coming year.

But I havenโ€™t really been, you know … productive.

Screw it. We all deserve to give ourselves a break. If 2020 isnโ€™t an excuse for falling short of last New Yearโ€™s expectations, then I donโ€™t know what is. Iโ€™m thankful just to have made it this far, in a depressingly literal sense. Iโ€™m taking the rest of the year off. And Iโ€™m giving you all the month of December off, too. There. Thatโ€™s my gift to you. Just be alive, at home, healthy and safe, and we’ll deal with the rest in January.

In the meantime, you might see some odd posts here as I play around with styles and topics over December. Feedback is always welcome. And below, please enjoy some photos of things I’ve been doing while being unproductive.

That’s it for now. Take care, my friends. Keep well, hang on, and have a small, intimate, safe, and happy holiday with the ones closest to you.


Luna Moth

Not entirely unproductive. This new work returned from exhibition this week and will be available in the shop soon. The moth is an origami-based paper sculpture colored with acrylic paint and mounted on a collage of hand-tinted vintage images.



When not in the gallery… Luna Moth atop my desk with Call Me Ishmael, Woman Found and Studied, and random inspirational bits.


Bats and Moths!


Did I mention…

We had a snow storm in October. It didn’t last long, though.


24 hours later…

Sparkly.

Keep Calm and Carry On

The exhibition โ€œConstruction/Deconstructionโ€ at the Brickbottom Gallery in Somerville is moving ahead, and so am I. With the kind help of some fellow artists with a car, my new piece, โ€œPink Yarrow,โ€ made it to the gallery with proper physical distancing observed at all times.

The show will be presented online, so watch this site for further updates. 

A new project starts tomorrow. For now, please enjoy a sneak peak at โ€œPink Yarrow,โ€ part of the Botanicals series, made with actual pink yarrows from last year’s garden, restored to their summer colors.

JFries Pink Yarrow detail 4.12.2020

Construction, Deconstruction… Reconstruction

JFries spring colors 2 3.14.2020
…any minor world that breaks apart, falls together again… — Steely Dan, Any Major Dude

Staying at home, maintaining physical distance, and working on a new piece for spring.

This is for the โ€œConstruction/Deconstructionโ€ group show at the Brickbottom Gallery, scheduled for April 16 – May 16. Details may change due to coronavirus, so watch this site for updates.

My experiment: โ€œPaintingโ€ dried flowers with thin skins of dyed tissue paper. The flowers were collected last fall, after they had gone to seed and dried naturally on the plants. I am trying to restore their summer colors. I like the effect – it kind of looks like paintings rendered in 3D. This work-table still life shows pink yarrow and hydrangea in progress. Far in the background, blurry behind my coffee cup are more yarrow, seaside goldenrod, and white pine, waiting their turn. The yarrow are from my own garden. The rest were collected from roadsides, and the hydrangea I actually found in a parking lot where it had been dropped by the wind. Iโ€™m not sure what Iโ€™ll do with the broken china and egg shell yet.

JFries work table 3.28.2020

Iโ€™d been tinkering with this technique for a while, but the disruption weโ€™re all going through with the coronavirus pandemic has inspired me. โ€œConstructionโ€ and โ€œdeconstructionโ€ are classic Art Words, more or less abstract concepts we creatives often dance around with. But as things kind of come off the rails around us, it occurred to me that โ€œreconstructionโ€ is what art really does. Artists see things, and take them apart, and then we put them back together, a little altered, interpreted, understood in some way, and made part of the human conversation.ย Our work isn’t done until we’ve got it all together again somehow.

Right now, a lot of us feel like weโ€™re watching things fall apart, but weโ€™ll get through these times. Nothing will be the same, but we can rely on the continuity of construction, deconstruction, reconstruction. The artists, writers, poets, musicians, etc., will tell the stories of how it all went down, and each of us will add our memories to it. Weโ€™ll reconstruct our world, with a little more weight of experience and a little more light of understanding.ย 

This process is slow and delicate, perfect for being under a stay-at-home order. And sometime after Iโ€™m done building my memories of last yearโ€™s flowers, this yearโ€™s flowers will be blooming everywhere.

Be well, friends.

Come Sail Away…

I must admit to a failure of time management when, surfacing happy from deep immersion in work, I find the entire summer has slipped by without a word from me to the wider world. Oops. Letโ€™s say Iโ€™ve been on a summer artistโ€™s retreat. Yeah, that works.

So, Iโ€™m back from my summer artistโ€™s retreat, during which quite a lot of things have happened, havenโ€™t they? (Looks at wider world; considers returning to the retreat.) Anyway…

Highlights:

I built a boat. And a cloth doll. My first of each. This was a commission for toys illustrating a childrenโ€™s story. I blew my labor budget experimenting with materials and techniques, but it was worth it. The client is happy, and it spawned a gaggle of project bunnies along the way.

I enrolled in a dollhouse workshop taught by Laetitia Miรฉral, a paper artist in France. Her work is beautiful, and sheโ€™s an excellent teacher. You must check her out at Merveilles en Papier. I heartily recommend her workshops for both beginners and more advanced artists. She offers both big and small projects, great techniques, and is outstanding at getting her students (or at least me) past perfectionism and commitment phobias.

Appropriately, I worked on dollhouses, too. I either solved a problem with the novel or created a new one – not sure yet. I wrote an essay on magic and reality – release date TBD. I hand-bound sketchbooks and journals, observed wildlife, gardened like a maniac, and did a lot of thinking.

And suddenly, itโ€™s September. Breakโ€™s over.