Time and Strength Slip Through our Fingers.

Fallen for You

From Dust

Fallen Again

I began in the previous post...."As I have explored the effects of light burning away the mists, I have considered what it is in the imagery that has fascinated me..."

but that was not it.

Hearing those rattling cages, I gather my recent work in my “From dust to Dust” series has created quite a stirring reaction from many of you, . Good!

I have been stirred up and the work is a bi-product….but the motivation behind the work may not be what you may think. I am passionate about the stunning reality of the transformations and troubles of the unsettled dust of the past several months because…

“She held out her arms and pulled me toward her…. “

In mid- December a woman arrived to be a guest in my home for the holidays. She is an unbelievable delight..always an encouragement. For one she has always been the one who said I could do anything. She was my first art patron. Everyone has a mother, even artists.

At the time of her recent arrival, she seemed more unsteady on her feet than at her last visit. As the month past, her ability to walk declined rapidly, until now her walker is her constant companion.

Her falls began daily as she would attempt to rise or sit or turn, until I stood guard spotting for her at each step. When she collapsed in my arms, I then understood I could not support her with my strength nor was I capable of being her main and only guard.

I saw time and strength slip through our fingers.

It is out of this context and the ensuing struggle that my new series “From Dust to Dust” took shape. As I wrapped my arms around her frail body and bathed her back while she clawed herself through the day in and out of her bed or chair, I saw time and strength slip through our fingers.

I ask why. I hear reasons, but they are not fitting into our Madison Avenue view of life. They are not tidy. My religious conviction prepared me, but only the reality of being with her gave me understanding.

At night, I tucked her into her covers, she held out her arms and pulled me toward her to gently kiss me with her quivering lips, holding me so tightly for ever so long … then whispering, “Thank you, Judy;… I love you.”

Yes from dust we came yet, most assuredly to dust we will return. While “From Dust” may declare the glory of our bodies, “Fallen Again,” returns us to the troubles of living in a world gone awry.

My mother had to move to a place where she could be assisted with every task and where staff were prepared to carry her.

Leaves: Judith Reidy's Painting and Paul Anderson's Poem

Ten Poets, Ten Painters: One Vision

painting by artist, Judith Reidy

Leaves
by Poet, Paula Anderson

A slight breeze brushes the green leaves,
a reminder of summer’s crossing,
the green lobes of the oak leaf
polished and glistening liked waxed fruit
will crinkle from water loss like the rest of nature aging,
no tarted up polyurethane for you,
later gawkers at your colors, leaf peepers,
and you blind to adulation,
knowing no one can re-live what isn’t known.

But we know lost passion.
It remarks on wrinkles like withering
strawberries ripe and red,
losing taste and succulence,
not a single mouth wants you.

A season can be enough to rage the soul.
Memories tied to a face tattooed with mold
but those are hard to understand,
when words for you are the mist of warmth––
breath to push away the fate of winter.

Tonight is the Night for One Vision

Tonight, Saturday, October 17,
"Ten Poets, Ten Painters, One Vision"
Program
at the Raven Gallery
in Pewaukee at 7pm

I am disclosing more of the image of my painting now.
My painting "Leaves" will be completely revealed at the exhibition this evening.

Join us!

Judith Reidy in One Vision at the Raven Gallery

Our gathering should provide an enriching and interesting evening this Saturday, October 17, 2009, at the Raven Gallery: the spot light being the reading of the poems by the poets and the presentation of the accompanying paintings.

Hope to see you there.

My Motivation for Joining the One Vision Project

I am currently part of a collaborative poet/painter program that began this summer. We are having our first presentation this October 17, at 7 pm, at the Raven Gallery outside of Pewaukee on Capitol. I would like to invite you to the poetry reading and the viewing of the artwork.

View today's further uncovering of the piece.

I liked working with my poet, Paula Anderson. I found a poem that she wrote expressed emotionally what I had sensed in making a drawing a few years ago. As she expressed sensibilities in her poetry, I was happy to develop my complementary idea further in making a painting. I found this to be one of the most emotionally honest pieces about being an aging woman; I would like to do more collaboration.

However, the idea is not very pretty, and therefore not appealing to those, which is most of us, who are hesitant to face reality. As an artist who attempts to be honest, I identify with the dilemma of the woman, who is aging. I realized that Paula and I had a common thought on the subject so the project did not seem like illustration, but a natural shared response to life. I liked the common bond it forged between Paula and I.

I would like to meet with other poets and artists and do more of this sort of thing. I hope you can come, perhaps you would like to be part of the next event sharing in our expressed experiences. Perhaps you have a poem or a creative exploration to share in the future. Let us know. Please don't be shy. I would love to see you.

Judith Reidy

Artist Judith Reidy and Poet Paula Anderson in Lake Country Project in TEN ARTISTS TEN POETS ONE VISION

Each day a square hiding the image
will be removed until Judith Reidy's painting will be exposed.

click on the image below

See the painting in person at the event
as well as hear
Paul Anderson's inspiring poem read by the poet herself.

Judith Reidy and Paul Anderson
invite you
to

Join us
Saturday, October 17, at 7 PM
at the Raven Gallery
read
the detailed description in
Lake Country Living

Do any of you have an item you just can't throw away? Well so do I. OR is it Junk and I am in denial?

Do any of you have an item you just can't throw away. Well so do I. I hold on to the memory of friendships with items we have shared together. One such item is our tea tray, which sadly broke this past Thursday while I was carrying in dinner dishes from the patio.This tray holds memories of service to friends and family served tea and special coffees and pie around the table. It holds memories of laughter and stories and heart break in summer, winter, fall .... I hope we can repair it. Most of all it was made by my husband some twenty plus years ago.I have other such memory with a recipe storage book that is falling to pieces. It was a wedding shower gift from one of my favorite aunts, Aunt Christine, whose middle name I have. As a young girl, I was impressed with her kindness and elegance. She taught me how to set a table. She taught me how to create things. She taught be that I could create beautiful things. Yet the recipe book cover itself is more sweet than I prefer, every time I use it I think of her.

Painting 24/40 of the 40 Consecutive Painting a Day Challenge - Illuminating an Apple

Illuminating an Apple
6" x 7 3/4"
Watercolor on Paper
$75

This was a fun way to end the day.

23/40 Painting of 40 Consecutive Days Painting a Day

Mama
6" x 7.5"
watercolor on paper with ink
$75

yeah mama

19/40 Painting of 40 Consecutive Days of a Paintng a Day - Mrs. Mendon

Mrs. Mendon
6" x 7"
Watercolor on Paper
$50

Today was the big Graduation Party for my son, an all day affair.
Yet, I did manage to do this watercolor painting of Mrs. Mendon.
I truly enjoy the expressive line and fluidity of the painted forms.

Legacy of Life Endured in the Light of Lightweight PR

November 17, 2008

I have not made many thoughtful entries in this particular blog as well as my other blogs recenty, partly because life has taken hold of me and driven me to pursue other avenues of communication.

I am trying to be practical and pursue marketing my artwork and my arts administration opportunities, while I paint on deadlines for exhibition's where I intend to sell my work. I arrange exhibitions for other artists and serve as a website facilitator for a gallery while at the same time I am starting an entirely new business this fall which is in itself an exciting adventure. In addition, I have a son who as a senior in high school needs my chauffeuring to his events like football practice, games until he positions himself to acquire his driver's license.etc.

Part of me is very glad I am dizzyingly busy. So busy, I cannot feel the separation of growing children as acutely. My life had been my children, my family. Discussion and activism in geopolitical issues or developing a body of artwork and even building my new company hold a measure of importance in my life. They, I understand have their particular unique fascination, but I recognize that they do not nor cannot occupy the same place in my heart and dreams as do the people in my family, my kin. Even as I have tried to fill my life with these other things, my longing for my family being a community one in spirit and heart has never diminished. The pain of my family’s growing diaspora gnaws at my soul, draining the life from me. The more I do to bring things together the more acutely aware I am of my family member’s desire to be removed from one another, their home and their roots, their parents. Perhaps this is just an inevitable but passing transition into adulthood for them. But I wonder if it is in fact what I have come to see it as that fruit of the fickle reward of wealth, education and upward mobility, the dream of the American way. Little did we know how much we cast aside when we set our children on the American path of success when we should have inculcated love and tenderness toward one another rather than ambition and adventure.

How does this relate to my art? My technical art skill has improved greatly over the years.. My art imagery has not drawn its ideas from my family as much as from the dream of community lived in the light of truth and love.

I am afraid to place my mind’s eye on the pain of separation for hours on end while I focus on meticulously painting of a “telling story of separation and fracture.” Besides who wants to buy a painting of a “telling a story of separation and fracture?”

Besides for mental survival, I favor keeping my heart and mind on “hope” of renewal and restoration. Neverthless, I prefer living in the truth of the moment rather than making life's reality with mere good PR of putting on a happy face.

Lately I think I may have a new opportunity to “tell the truth in a life story full of pathos amidst hope,” now that my mother, who is in her declining mid eighty’s, has come to stay with me for an extended visit. I see I can compassionately tell a story of separation and fracture.” Somehow, this story, which is so real before me in its human frailty, is striking with hope and beauty because I can be a part of her life at this time. I can laugh and cry and with her and she with me.

I will, in the next months, begin drawing and painting her and her aging friends and surviving brother, etching lines in a legacy of friendship and endurance that I have been privileged to experience through the life of my mother, whom my children have called “Grandma.”

Judith