The Fezziwig News by Stu Jenks

"Saguaro Window"

"Saguaro Window, Sonoran Desert, Arizona" (c) 2012 Stu Jenks

For the fairie folk in Atlanta, Raleigh, Ottawa and Chagford. Y'all know who you are.

"Monument Valley Road, Utah"

"Monument Valley Road, Utah" (c) Stu Jenks 2012

As seen in numerous automobile commercials, the iconic U.S. Highway 163.

This one goes out to William Todd-Jones. Sorry I missed you when you were in The States. Next time.

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.

"Deaths & Injuries" is now on iTunes and at CDBaby.com

"Deaths & Injuries" is now available at your local iTunes store on your computer and on your mobile devices, and at my CDBaby.com page, both as a digital download and as a physical CD. You can also buy the physical CD at the Fezziwig Press Store. CDs are $12.00 through me and $13.00 through CDBaby.com (S & H extra.) And the digital downloads are your standard .99 cents per track.

Thanks, y'all.

Stu

p.s. The above image, "Ed-Lil" is on the inside cover of this CD. Just tired of putting the same cover image on my blog to promote this CD. If you want to see the cover, just scroll down.

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.

 

"Nothing"

"Nothing; U.S. 93; Arizona" (c) 2011 Stu Jenks

"Mono Lake Hoop Dances" (and some news of Mary Jenks)

"Mono Lake Hoop Dance, California" (c) Stu Jenks & Shawn Peterson 2011

The top image is mine, the second image, Shawn Peterson's. We both shot the same hoop dance at the same time: my image a bit longer exposure using my Rollei, Shawn shooting with his Canon 5D Mark II. I can't tell you how joyous that shoot was, that night, just three weeks ago. Shawn and I and the others on the pumice field near Mono Lake, laughed and shoot and had just the best time. And each image of these two images has its own magic: mine, a bit warmer and with more contrast, Shawn's, cooler in color with more shadow detail. An excellent example of how we each may look at the same time but we all see things through our own eyes.

And a lot has happened in the last three weeks. Pamela died of metastatic breast cancer two weeks ago and it appears Mary is finally succuming to her dementia. She hasn't eaten in two days, can now longer swallow and drifts in and out of consciousness. I'm gettin ready to go over to Crossroads in a hour or so. We may have to up the morphine a bit for Mary is now in some pain. Once every 4 hours may not be enough to keep her confortable. The little water sponges on sticks really helps with keeping her mouth moist though.

And there will be two funerals for Mary Jenks, one here in Tucsson at Grace St. Paul's Episcopal Church and one at St. Mary's Whitechapel in Lively, Virginia. The service here is for all who knew Mary, of course, but mostly, it's for those of you who want to come to give me a hug. And I've prepared quite a little service for Mary, with some live harmonium music by me, a few touching songs that I love, and a good number of hymms Mary loves as well. (The service at St. Mary's Whitechapel will be more traditional Episcopalian. And both Pamela and Mary will be buried at the same time, or so it seems.)

Mary could rallies like she has done a half dozen times over the last two years, but I don't think so. This looks, feels and smells different. Mary appears to be doing the hard work of dying now.

And feel free and continue to send your love, via my Facebook page. I've told Mary that a lot of my friends are praying for her. Understandably, it doesn't seem to mean much to her now, but it means a lot to me. Thanks for all the love and compassion that you are giving to my family and I.

I truly do feel it.

Love, light & luck,

Stu

p.s. I found out that Mary fell from her wheelchair and broke her hip, two hours after Pamela had died. She didn't know Pamela was dead at that point, or did she? I can feel Pamela's spirit around some and she seems to be with our mother when I enter Mary's bedroom now. All the old angers have fallen away from Pamela. Pamela simply glows now. It's nice. She seems to be holding Mary's hand as much as I. Call me crazy if you like, but Pamela is around. Happy to have her on the job. And all of you as well.

Shri Ram, Jai Ram, Jai Jai Ram: (Pamela On The Plane)

 
"Shri Ram, Jai Ram, Jai Jai Ram: Pamela On The Plane" (c) 2011 Stu Jenks

(Photographs of Krishna Das by Cindy Elliot: Toning of the KD images by Stu Jenks. Portrait of Pamela Jenks, a month before her death, and a photo of her casket in the kitchen in Raleigh by Stu Jenks.)

An MP3 of Shri Ram Jai Ram Jai Jai Ram by Krishna Das (Be a good guy and buy it on ITunes if you like it)

    Maybe it’s wishful thinking. Maybe it’s sleep deprivation, but I swear I feel Pamela’s presence here on this train platform at the Philadelphia Airport. No, she’s here, all right. It’s not just me.
    “What to share a smoke?” I ask Pamela.
    She just smiles.
    “Did I do right by you, Pamela?” I whisper to the empty space to my right. “I’m really not sure,” I say. “Those three friends of yours. Jesus fucking Christ. Those three women who picked over your bones like vultures after your funeral really pissed me off. What is wrong with those people, going through your DVDs, your books, your china, your clothes at the house? What is wrong with them? But I did end up giving Katalina your silver, after talking with Martha. Martha seems solid. She knew who you were, Pamela, good and bad. Martha said Katalina was OK, that you really did want her to have that silver. So I gave her the silver. Anyway. I hope I did right by you.”
    The angel/ghost of Pamela continues to smile to me. It’s the first time I’ve felt her around since just after she died on Tuesday.
    “You did great, Stu,” she says. “And you were right. I am free now.”

    On the plane from Philly to Phoenix. Working of some pics of Krishna Das that Elliot took at The Rialto ten days ago. (Sweet of her to share those with me. They don’t allow me to take pics at The Rialto. The Rialto. Krishna Das. Was it just a week and a half ago? Christ, it feels like a month or more.)  I put on some of Krishna Das’ music on the laptop while I work. I recognize a song from the concert.
    “Shri Ram Jai Ram, Jai Jai Ram,” sings Krishna Das into my earpieces. The crowd on the live recording sings the phrase back to him, in that wonderful Kirtan call-and-response way.
    And I start to cry.
    There is an empty seat next to me.
    Pamela’s ashes rest on the kitchen counter in Raleigh, but I feel her spirit in that seat right next to me, right here, right now.
    I want to sing Jai Jai Ram with KD and the crowd on the recording, but I can’t here. I’m on a dark plane with a hundred other souls. But I can sway.
    And Pamela sways too.
    I can almost see her angel/ghost. She’s not the bloated ugly woman of the last twenty years. She’s not the angry, hurtful, unhappy woman I’ve known for so long. She’s light, bright, beautiful, blond, thin, and joyous.
    “I’m so happy,” she whispers in my ear.
    I say nothing. Just slowly cry.
    “I don’t suffer now, Stu,” she says “And you shouldn’t either.”
    And then Pamela Jenks, The Friendly Ghost, raises her arms above her head and sways with Krishna Das. I cry a little more. Not out of sadness but out of wordless, soundless joy for my sister who suffered so much these past decades and now suffers no more.
    She is free.
    I look at her angel/ghost out of the corner of my eye. Slender arms above her head, eyes closed, loving the music.
    And I think of the hug we shared hours before her death. The first time she ever hugged me, in which she didn’t break the hug first. A long, deep hug of love from my sister who was so scared of dying, but who longed so much for death to come, to release her from her pain.
    A sister who finally found freedom from her life of sorrow.
    And it appears, if I’m not completely out of my mind, a sister who is digging the fuck out of Krishna Das.
    I chuckled.
    Who would have thought it? My Anglican sister digging Hindu Kirtan music. Then again, she’s an angel/ghost now. She can love anything she wants.
    “Oh, Stu,” she says, leaning over.
    “Yes,” I whisper.
    “I love you, Bro.”
    “Love you too, Pam.”
    And she throws her head back and blisses out with the music.
    And I join her in her bliss.

 

 

"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.

 

Cherokee Girl by Charles de Lint: The Music Video

 

[First things first: click on the little square-four-arrow-cluster at the lower right hand corner of the video to make it full screen]

Cherokee Girl by Charles de Lint
Produced & directed by Brock Zeman

Original song by author Charles de Lint about the mix of cultures, myth and how all of us are connected to each other and this world in which we find ourselves. Features a brief cameo by Terri Windling, the Cherokee Girl for whom the song was written. Scenes from Tucson filmed by de Lint and his wife, MaryAnn Harris. Horseshoe Canyon footage by Stu Jenks. For more info: www.charlesdelint.com

[From Stu: I have great friends. Glad the video I shot at Horseshoe Canyon came to such good use. Wonderful place, Horseshoe Canyon; wonderful people, Charles, Terri and MaryAnn; wonderful song, Cherokee Girl.]