Art Show at Culver-Stockton College

"I'm not sure why, but I just don't want to blog about my show." -- me, every day since August 23.

Over the past couple of weeks I've been feeling uncharacteristically vulnerable and borderline paranoid, and last night I finally figured out why: my paintings are on display and people are looking at them. 

Normally my paintings are safely tucked away in their owners' homes or occupying the nonjudgmental walls of our house. Until I recently framed them, eighteen of my watercolors were stored in a portfolio in my little studio, looked at by no one but me maybe once a month (to make sure they were okay).

But it's strange to know that 225 miles away, in the art gallery of a small liberal arts college, three dozen of my paintings are being seen by the eyes of strangers. Those people are reading my stories about the paintings on the title cards next to them. Most dauntingly, those people are talking about the paintings and judging them. That's just what people do. And it's going on now, and I don't get to listen to a word of it, which is undoubtedly for the best. Admittedly, I put my images up on the internet all the time and it's no big deal to me, but somehow this is different.

I don't have children, but I bet I'm going through the same emotions that parents must feel when they send their kids off to school for the first time.

Sprinkled on top of this: the nagging idea that I don't even deserve to have a show like this in the first place. Because who am I? I'm just some woman who quit her job so she could paint! Someone (I can't remember who! who was it??) recently said that having a one-person show was the art equivalent of having a book published. It's like people are reading the book that I've just started to write!

Hence the eerie silence on this blog over the past couple of weeks. Sorry about that. But now that I've been able to identify the simple problem--strangers are looking at my paintings and it's freaky--I think I can write again.

And did you see the photo up there? They put my name on the window with letter stickers and how cool is that?

Three weeks ago, Jeff and I packed 24 paintings into the trunk and back seat of the car (Jeff's 2004 Mazda 6) and took off for my parents' house, en route to Canton, Missouri. Each framed, plexiglassed watercolor was separated from its neighbors by cardboard and towels/blankets. We decided to take I-74--see the purple line on the map--instead of a more direct route to western Illinois because it was the smoothest road. I cringed whenever we hit an unavoidable bump. Would the paintings shift and scratch each other during this 300 mile odyssey?

Early in our trip west we passed this guy. I decided that his superhero name would be The Yellow Jacket.

One of my favorite landmarks on this most boring of drives is a giant DeKalb operation near Farmer CIty, which is the name of an actual town in Illinois.

That photo does not do it justice, but please know that this place is enormous. In my book, anyplace that is intimidatingly big and makes me wonder what goes on inside earns the distinction of CONCERN, as in, "We just passed the DeKalb concern." I actually look forward to seeing the DeKalb concern, and this should give you some idea of how uninteresting I-74 is.

We hit a nasty thunderstorm west of Peoria that forced us to pull over for a few minutes. Normally I love a good storm, but watercolors plus more water is a scary combination, and I imagined one of the frequent cloud-to-ground lightning strikes hitting our car, splitting the roof open, and rain pouring in and destroying my pictures. Also, we'd be electrocuted. I'm not buying the idea that cars are safe places to be in electrical storms.

After a side trip to Macomb to pick up the Mabel painting, which was being housed by her grandparents, we arrived at Mom and Dad's house at around noon. They were going to help us take some extra paintings down to Canton in their car. The weather was sunny and pleasant, and the drive was uneventful save for one hilarious carnival food idea Jeff and I had. It's too dirty to write about.

Once we found the art gallery on Culver-Stockton's very small campus, the Great Unloading began.  Gallery director Debbie Myers, a small crew of students, my pal and C-SC associate professor Terry Sherer, Jeff, my folks, and I made short work of getting the paintings into the gallery. The number of pictures emerging in a steady stream from our two-car caravan brought thoughts of clown cars to mind. Then we went right to work placing the paintings throughout the gallery, setting them on the floor. I had been given a floor plan of the space months in advance, so I was able to plan my show. I wanted to put my portraits downstairs and the florals, still lifes, and Burano pictures upstairs. Do I need to say that Jeff was amazing when it came to helping me make instant, Sophie's-level Choices when it came to my art? Because he was amazing.

Debbie and Co. then had 48 hours to hang the paintings. I didn't have to lift a finger, but I did give them a whole lot of cookies. Jeff and I were given a complimentary guest room on the building's second floor, a cute little place featuring the following print:

After looking at it for a while I Facebooked:

"We're in Culver-Stockton's complimentary guest room. The art on the wall totally says 'sex.'"

Jeff commented:

"However, the two twin beds provide a compelling counter-argument."

With two days to blow in a small town (pop. 2000) in the middle of nowhere, Jeff and I had to work to keep ourselves busy. Terry, whom you may remember from such paintings as...

...kept us amused. We love spending time with him.

Activities included:

• a side trip to Iowa City with Terry for sushi and a lecture about Haiti
• a side trip to Quincy with Terry for German food and a look at the city's beautiful homes, and
• a side trip to Nauvoo, Illinois, i.e. Mormon Jerusalem, sans Terry, who was teaching. Some photos!

Jeff looking iconic by the banks of the Mississippi River.

The rather beautiful Nauvoo temple.

Butterfly stalking.

But really, there was not much for us to do during the day, and I found it increasingly difficult to concentrate on my recreational reading because of the dreaded gallery talk I'd have to give on Thursday night. To make things easier, I had put together a PowerPoint presentation on my work and I had planned to give the talk in a nearby classroom. I spent all day Thursday memorizing what I was going to say to...the five people who would show up? None of my friends who might have wanted to see the show lived in the area, and anyway it was a school night, so I had no idea how that was going to go, either. A few hours before the show's opening, Jeff and I (mostly Jeff) hooked up my laptop to the existing system and dealt with the classroom's faulty projector.

Wondering how tired I must have looked, and instinctively knowing that no one would take photos of me during the show that I could later use to illustrate this blog, I snapped a quick self portrait in the semi-darkness.

Here's a better picture of me (taken by me in our house last month) with my apple blossoms. Hopefully I looked more like this on the night of my show.

The opening itself was wonderful, and I even managed to sell some work! Culver's president, its visual arts chairperson, and fine arts dean attended and had kind, generous things to say about my paintings. Art students and a smattering of local people were also there, along with a surprise appearance by my Uncle Ted and Aunt Terri.

I'm in no position to say whether I did a good job with my speech, but Terry told me, "You wowed them." He reported that one of the cute artsy girls said, "I want to be just like her." My parents, who had never seen me teach, were able to watch me talk about art and engage with young people for the first time, and they haven't stopped talking about it. The whole night whipped by in a lovely flash, and then it was over, and then I had to leave my paintings for a month. And then the aforementioned ennui set in.

Sidebar: I got the word "ennui" in a state Spelling Bee in 8th grade, and I spelled the heck out of it.

So here I am back at home. Bun continues to thrive--thanks everyone for asking about her. Saturday she wedged herself into a very small basket. Pardon my thumb; she wasn't in there for long.

After spending his birthday helping me schlep art all over the tri-state area, as opposed to having fun in Spain, my husband is happy to be home, too. Thank you very much for all you do for me, Jeff!

If you're in the Canton, MO, area for some reason, my show will be up until September 23. The gallery is open M-F, 9-5.

Comments

[Jeff carroll]

My running commentary while reading:

You didn't mention that I'm a trunk-packing mother @&$)#%.

The Yellow Jacket is an actual superhero. He was Giant Man, then Ant Man, then he went crazy, then he became Yellow Jacket. Then he died. Then he came back. Comic books really are soap operas for boys.

Cars are Farraday cages, I think. Need to look that up.

Great write-up. I should put my running commentary in the comments.

[Kendra Holliday]

Beautiful gallery! Looks like a great show, love the Midwest mini-tour, too! Hope to see you next time you're in Missouri!

[Melody]

Terry is correct. WOW!

[Caroline]

I was full of observations and comments until that photo of Bun totally shortcircuited my brain. So cute, can't process.

Your show looks lovely, and congratulations on it and the sales!

[Kelly]

Thanks, Kendra and Melody!

Caroline, Bun is honored to have shortcircuited a brain as formidable as yours.

[GinaE]

Congrats on this one woman art show! I honestly can't think of anyone that deserves it more, Kelly. You are so talented and now more people can find out about you and your lovely art. Jeff is the super hero, I think! So glad you have him and so glad to hear that cute Bun is doing so well now.

[Shannon]

well hi!

i so enjoyed all your illustrative links, especially "concern" and "i'm sorry". also, i totally saw the artwork spelling out SEX before i even read your comment. very clear.

congrats on a successful show and bun (she'll always be owl to me)'s continuing good health!