Adding to my tiny home art gallery
Quirky and personal, each piece makes me smile.
Today I saw this cobbled-together heart made of leftover wood bits in a coop art gallery in Portland. It isn’t exactly pretty, but it spoke to what my own broken heart needed—a reminder of how much I still love our broken world and want to celebrate its wonders.
The heart brings me back to the good ol’ days, when the contents of “Alive! with Joy” (the name of this newsletter) reflected a lot more aliveness and joy than in recent months. So I’m going to do my best to set aside the heartless cruelty of the current MuskTrumpocracy and get back to my original intent. Starting today.
My open-plan condo is a mere 736 sq ft. I have so little available wall that I have to resort to using the pillar of old-growth Douglas fir (18” across) that stands in the middle of the space as a 4-sided gallery. (Once upon a time I lived in 4,800 sq ft, with a LOT more art, so what’s left is the art I can’t live without. )
I have one rule about the art I collect (besides it speaking to me): I have to know the artist personally. This connection gives each piece an aliveness (chi) that even visitors notice. Many of the photos I’ve taken myself, but I also have pieces of all sorts by family members, friends, and random artists I’ve met along the way.
At the gallery this afternoon, I was in luck. The woodworker who crafted the heart happened to be on duty as cashier, and he talked me through each little chunk in his collage. A new friend. Test passed. I can invite the heart into my home.
About twenty years ago my ex- and I happened upon a small exhibit of metal string instruments in a cafe/gallery in Los Angeles. Because of my rule, we called the artists, Kari and Jan, for more information, and they told us to come by their studio a few miles away. We spent an hour chatting with them, while trying to decide which to buy. My ex got a “guitar” and I got this “violin.” (I used to play both—in wood).
My friend Kim Murton is endlessly creative. Her ceramic sculptures are in galleries and homes across America, she draws every day, she designs fabric patterns… A dozen of her whimsical illustrations added just the right vibe to my book, The Cherry Pie Paradox: The Surprising Path to Diet Freedom and Lasting Weight Loss.*
I still share my home with “Rosie the Riveted.” I bought her in 2010 at the recycled art fair in Vancouver. I spotted her a few minutes before the art fair opened, bought her instantly ($145) and went off to my yoga class. When I came back to pick Rosie up 90 minutes later, her creator said she could have sold her ten times over for twice as much.
My younger son made a series of amazing little sculpy scupltures for a high school project depicting his versions of Dante’s nine circles of Hell. I insisted on keeping this piece because…well, I spent many years of my life with an overflowing inbox.
Of course I don’t just have weird art; I have watercolors by friends, lot of family photos in the bathroom, and below: photos above my kitchen sink that take me back to extraordinary places: The breath-taking Getty Museum in Bilbao, a labyrinth in Walnut Creek, the Metropolitan Museum of Art in NY.
To make you laugh or marvel, or both at the same time
Amazing Christian Jazz singer and total goofball, Emma Nissen, teaches us how to do the mouth trumpet. And since that will already blow your little mind, you need her quick lesson on scat singing.
Elle Cordoba, a brilliantly clever nerd on Instagram, had her iPhone stolen when she was in Barcelona. Instead of feeling sorry for herself, she made a little video travelogue of her phone’s journey.
This comedian has nailed me in this routine, or so I’m told (with affection, I think…) by my son’s old pal Brandon, who‘ve I’ve known since they were adolescents. I had to laugh. You probably will too.
*The Cherry Pie Paradox walks you through the transformative Thin Within process, the diet-free workshop series I created in 1975, long before “Intuitive Eating.”
PUT YOURSELF IN THE PATH OF BEAUTY
As a personal color analyst, how fortunate am I to find myself in the path of beauty like this two or three times a week! I can’t retire yet. This gal is somewhere between a Twilight and Jeweltone Summer.
Your art gallery is wonderful, and I had a great time watching all the talented folks on Instagram. Thanks for making me smile. I needed some joy (Joy) and sunshine today!
Joy, this is wonderful. Do you by any chance have photos of the other Circles of Hell ?