The Fezziwig News by Stu Jenks

All 8 1/2" x 11" A/P archival pigment prints by Stu Jenks for $25, shipping, handling and taxes included...

Image: "Queen Esther Baptist Church, Lancaster, Virginia" (c) 2011 Stu Jenks (Just down River Road from Victoria's house. Love that luscious red carpet. And for you nocturnals out there, it was handheld. Rare for me.)

In this time of making photos on iPhones and Macbook Pros and only looking on screens, I forget I'm a old-school guy. I make a 8 1/2 x 11 work print on archival paper of EVERY image I make. EVERY one. It's the only way, for me, to accurately check for color shift, density, composition, etc. I really like my iPad screen but it's no way to make a good print.

And I have hundreds, if not thousands, of work prints artist proofs at my studio.

If you see an image of mine on The StuBlog or on my old website or on the Fezziwig Press Store or in any of my books, there's a beautiful small print in a box somewhere, perhaps with your name on it. And since I'm organized, I can find it.

Many of you can't afford my larger prints. I understand. I don't have an extra 50 or 100 lying around either. But I do have an extra $20 for stuff I really like.

So if you see an image of mine on any of my sites or in any of my books and you want it, it's yours for $25, shipping, handling and tax included. (I believe in paying taxes, sales and otherwise.)

Just email me at my facebook page or through the StuBlog or at stujenks@gmail.com, and tell me what print you would like or just pull the jpeg and send that to me.

I was just watching the Tarhells lose today in basketball, working on images at my computer when I thought, 'I bet people don't realize I have boxes of work prints here.'

You all do now.

Love and light,

Stu

p.s. Ignore the catagories belows. The computer went wacky. Another reason why I prefer a print in the hand as opposed to an image in The Cloud.

...this and that, from Oklahoma, Arizona, New Mexico and Colorado...

I'm just going to put these images up on the StuBlog and say very little. Some are good, some not-so-good, some in-between. Some from last week, some from last year. Enjoy.

All images copyrighted by Stu Jenks, 2012.

And may tender arms keep you warm this winter.

"Two Choke Hill Spiral: For Terri & Howard"

"Two Choke Hill Spiral, Arizona: For Terri & Howard" (c) 2011 Stu Jenks

An earth spiral from yesterday's hike near Oracle, Arizona. Due to a combination of too long a lens and too big a spiral, this truly looked better in person, but this photo'll do.

And most of the red ants below this spiral were hiberating, so I don't this they minded the piece of art above their heads, but you never know. They are fire ants after all.

Now available, on the Apple IPad: The Transpersonal Papers (1861-2010) and Bozo In Love

Been a long time coming for The Transpersonal Papers (1861-2010).

Three editors, two proofreaders, two designers, four printers, and hours, days, weeks, months, years, lifetimes, (I know I'm overstating), of writing, traveling, shooting, editing, remembering, hiking, and more writing, shooting, and editing, but I'm not complaining. No, no, no.

And apologies for not having the dough right now, to print The Transpersonal Papers as a coffee-table book as I had originally planned. ($10,000, it would have cost. Maybe someday.) But you now can buy it, for $14.95, as an Ebook on the Apple IPad, and I expect it to be available within a couple days on the Nook and the Kindle as well.

I just looked at it on my new IPad. The photos, text and design look grand.

And as an extra surprise, Bozo In Love is now up on IBooks too, ($9.95), as well as the rest of my catalog: Flame Spirals, Hoop Dancing, and Dementia Blues, on IBooks, Nook and Kindle.

Just in time for Christmas.

And don't worry. All but The Transpersonal Papers can still be bought as a book book through Fezziwig Press. I have plenty. Just go to www.fezziwigpressonline.com, for the hardbounds and paperbacks, but go to ITunes, today, (and Kindle and Nook, soon) for the ebooks.

Heavy sigh from my third story apartment balcony. I look out onto the Tucson city lights in the valley below. Cold, dry air embraces me. I inhale deeply. Exhale.

A very good night in the desert.

Think I'll make a cup of coffee with egg nog and play some Angry Birds on my new IPad.

Time to celebrate.

 

"Earth Spiral at Owl's Head"

"Earth Spiral at Owl's Head, Arizona" (c) 2011 Stu Jenks

"Spiral For Chessie"

"Spiral For Chessie, Pontatoc Ridge, Tucson, Arizona" (c) 2011 Stu Jenks

"The Big Spiral near Sibyl"

"The Big Spiral near Sibyl, Arizona" (c) 2011 Stu Jenks

I went back yesterday, reshoot and redrew this spiral. The largest spiral I've ever drawn, over 25 feet wide. It was actually very hard work, carving into the wash. I was out of breath more than once, pushing that big Mesquite stick into the ground.

Some of the lines are a bit lumpy but no matter. Life is lumpy and imperfect at times. Scars and lumps show we have lived.

The sand was wonderful as was the locale. That's Cochise Stronghold and The Dragoon Mountains in the distance.

Fun Fact: It's quite difficult to find a wash in Southern Arizona that hasn't been disturbed by ATVs and other traffic. This unnamed wash near the railroad crossing of Sibyl was smooth, level, soft and serene. Like going back in time, when Apaches rode these hills.

And my thoughts yesterday were that life's spiral is very long for many of us, through our birth, childhood, adulthood, middle age, old age and death. A very long path we each take, yet some people's spirals are not as wide or as long or as full of lumps and scars: Infants who die in their first few days, a tiny little spiral; teenagers killed in car crashes or in wars, a pretty small spiral; adults killed in tornados or who just dropped dead, a good size spiral but not huge. And my sister who'll probably be dead from cancer before Christmas at the age of 63. She has a good size spiral now but it could be bigger, and it definitely could have a great deal more lumps and scars in it.

No one, except perhaps my sister, will say she lived a full life. No one.

I feel angry and sad sometimes, that my mother and father did such a number on my sister, that she's spent most of her life alone, living in our old house on Amherst rent-free, with no job, very little money, few friends, a dog or two over the years, watching TV, doing cross-stitch, getting drunk, going to church on Sundays and hardly talking to any one.

So the spiral I drew yesterday became big, wide, lumpy, and alone, hidden in a anonymous wash in the Sonoran Desert.

A spiral for my sister. A spiral for me. A spiral for all of us, I suppose.

And don't worry. Pamela will never read this post. I offered to buy her a small laptop last year but she refused, and I don't know the last time she went to a library to view a computer.

So say a prayer for her, as she sits alone, in a big old house, in pain, on meds, waiting for death to come.

She does believe in God and The Life Everlasting. At least she's not completely alone.

 

"Jellyfish at The End of The World"

"Jellyfish at The End of The World: Point Reyes, California" (c) 2010 Stu Jenks

(Cathy took the image of me drawing a spiral in the sand. And all these images were taken with my new little Canon SX-210 IS point-and-shoot. The 210 takes great high-def video too.)

"Spiral For The Birds"

"Spiral For The Birds" (c) 2010 Stu Jenks

    6:30 p.m. End of May.
    A few bright-yellow Palo Verde blossoms hang on for dear life. Spring is leaving, and they say we’ll hit the Century Mark the end of next week. But those little yellow flowers still explode outside of my third story apartment window. The Mourning Doves sing their last songs of the day. The Great Horned Owl will sing its first night-song in a few hours. And there’s another song, from a wren I think, but I don’t really know for sure.
    Maybe it’s part homage to Robert Smithson or just a continuation of my decades-long obsession with The Spiral. Or maybe I was just looking for a way to give the birds in my neighborhood a Christmas present. (Even wild birds need a feast now and again.) I cleaned the land of its windblown plastic grocery bags. I dug the spiral trench with a shovel. (There was already the shadow of an older eight-foot spiral there from years ago. I just made it 6 inches deeper.) I emptied 40 pounds of birdseed into the sculpture. And on High Noon yesterday, I took a picture or two. Worst light of the day. Great time of the day. I know I’m weird.
    I type with my glasses off, my laptop and I sit at the foot of my bed. I put on my glasses, look away from the computer and gaze out my window to the sculpture, to the bird feeder, to a bit of holy ground, a couple hundred yards to the south. It’s just County land that no one uses, where down the hill from the spiral, a small covered reservoir was constructed twenty years. No one walks this piece of land but for me and some coyotes, and I don’t walk it very often and the coyotes prefer the washes. But it’s not bad land. Just good unknown land. We have a lot of that in Arizona. May all those acres stay a mystery for a very long time.
    I wonder how much seed the birds have eaten in a day and half? I think I’ll put on my boots and go see. And maybe afterwards, I’ll walk over to Starbuck’s and buy a Grande Dark Roast.

"Arches Spiral"

"Arches Spiral, Arches National Park, Utah" (c) 2010 Stu Jenks

[Taken at Arches National Park last week. I do like to write stories you know, but sometimes it's best to just let the mystery hang. Stay warm and give warmth, y'all.]