Stu Jenks' Fezziwig Press

Circles and Spirals: Stu Jenks' Newsletter #7: 6/28/2022

"Flame Circle at St. Mary's Whitechapel, Lively, Virginia" (c) 2001, 2022

1) Just horrendous. You know what I'm talking about. The over-turning of Roe v. Wade. So much has been said already, and perhaps the last thing we need is a man bemoaning what I believe is a woman's primary right to her own body. Or maybe more men do need to speak up. I don't know. But I will say this. The steady march to a New American Theocracy, a nation ruled by religious beliefs rather than by laws, worries the fuck out of me. Vote in the Fall for all Democrats, no matter how wimpy or conservative they are, and register others to vote as well, so we can hold onto state houses and perhaps hold the U.S. Senate and U.S. House as well. All this makes me so angry and sad. That being said, I have to remind myself that America has only been a 'true' democracy since 1964, since The Civil Rights act.

So Rest In Peace, American Democracy (1964-2022). Adios muchachos. Hopefully a New Democracy will be reborn in the future.

One outside hope I have is that corporations will be less willing to invest into anti-abortion, anti-women states, not sending new offices and factories to those places. That along with the slim hope that Democrat politicians will eventually grow a pair and learn how to fight. I pray for the former to happen but have little hope for the latter. I just feel awful for all the women and girls in my country right now. Just awful. 

2) My radiation oncology has begun on the salvage/killing of the little bit of cancer that remains in my pelvic floor. Not fun. The feeling of having to pee all the time, not every day, but many days, sucks. But truly, the hardest thing about this daily process is walking from the parking lot to the cancer center on my bad left leg, and then the massive fatigue that hits me an hour after treatment. But I don't want to die before my time. The docs seems hopeful that this will kill the cancer that's still left. I sure hope so. 

"Desert Agave Walking Stick, North Topsail Beach, North Carolina" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks. 

3) I tried to sell some of my walking sticks and photographs at my local farmer's market last Saturday. Had very few sales but I met some very nice people, mostly the other vendors and a few shoppers. And of course, like my other Open Art Studio type events over the years, I had the odd person who said really weird things to me (I'll leave it at that). I may come back in the Fall after my radiation, when I have more energy. The people were quite sweet, but this really isn't my crowd where my art will sell, I'm afraid. People are there for the fruits and vegetables, not the rocking chair photos and high end walking sticks. But they were still very nice people. 

"Grimsley High School Graduation, Greensboro Coliseum, North Carolina" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks. 

4) I went to my nephew Will's high school graduation a few weeks back. It was a hoot. I hadn't been to a high school graduation since I graduated from Sanderson High School in 1973. Got a couple of good shots with the long lens. So much fun. Congrats Will McIntyre, and good luck in the fall as you attend the University of Tennessee in Knoxville. 

"DC-10 Fighting A Fire, Dragoon Mountains, Arizona" (c) 2016, 2022 Stu Jenks. 

"Stu and Stuart Sleeping, Mothershead Neck, Richmond County, Virginia" (c) 2001, 2022 Stu Jenks. 

"Harriet Tubman by Arron Douglas, Ackland Art Museum, Chapel Hill, NC" (Image capture by Stu Jenks 2022)

5) I've been to some fine local art shows lately, and I'm still trying to get into other art shows, here and in Tucson, but it's been slow going. Both having a bad leg that's not healing very quickly, and this fatiguing oncology radiation and I'm a bit hobbled. I'm not liking it at all. But it is what it is and it ain't what it ain't. Acceptance is the key and all that good shit. Keep me in your thoughts and prayers, to heal up from this cancer and this torn leg muscle, and that I sell more art, music and books so I can continue to keep the wolves away from the door. Love you all. Stu. P.S. Alexa says hey. 

"Mothershead Neck Flame Spiral, Virginia" & "My Ghost Likes To Travel Hoop Dance, Arizona" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks. 

Circles and Spirals: Stu Jenks' Newsletter #6: 6/3/2022

"Rain Approaching, Blue Ridge Parkway, Virginia" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks. 

1) Good news, bad news. The CyberKnife radiation treatment for the tiny bit of prostate cancer I still have is unavailable and ineffective, so say the good folk at UNC Hospital in Chapel Hill. So I'll be getting old-school-hopefully-it-doesn't-tear-me-up-too-bad radiation here in Greensboro. Shit. I was really hoping to get the less invasive radiation but alas. I did hear though that Dr. Matt Manning here at Cone Hospital is one of the best radiation oncologist in the country, so I have that going for me. Fingers double crossed. 

2) Went to the races in Charlotte over the Memorial Day weekend. The ARCA cars and the trucks on Friday night were something, literally shaking the ground as they passed the start-finish line on restarts. And there are some up and coming black NASCAR drivers now too, and there are some black folk in the stands in Charlotte Motor Speedway. Made me very happy to see a more diverse crowd than what you might see at the little tracks in rural Virginia. Things have changed, a little bit.

3) Reluctant capitalist plug: The ebook of the 10th anniversary edition of Step Zero is now up on Amazon. Just click this link and it'll take you there. It's free if you already have the Kindle Unlimited or $2.99 is you buy it. Baby needs a new pair of shoes, so hit those buttons. The paperback edition will be coming out soon. If you want to pre-order the book book or be put on the list for a copy, just email me. stujenks@gmail.com

4) Finished up the remainder of the Arizona images from my recent trip. The Painted Desert Project in particular is one of the best public art projects I've seen in years. Real, gritty, beautiful, meaningful. You can see it if you are driving from Flagstaff to the eastern entrance of The Grand Canyon, in Gray Mountain. It is stunning. 

"The Painted Desert Project, Gray Mountain, Arizona" (c) 2022 #vyalone and many more. Image capture by me. 

"Saguaro near Topowa, T.O. Reservation, Arizona" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks. 

"The Virgin Mary near Kitt Peak, T.O. Reservation, Arizona" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks. 

5) I visited dead relatives over the Memorial Day weekend. Mom, Dad, & Pamela. Dad's parents and my murdered great aunt Bertie too. (To read the sad story of Aunt Bertie and her children, clink on this link). At Bertie's grave in Richmond, the candle I placed there months ago was still there. I had an extra U.S. flag with me and I placed it at her grave. She wasn't a veteran of the armed services, but she certainly was a veteran of sorts, of the violence against women. I know it's a stretch but it seemed right to decorate her grave with something. It was nice to visit Stuart, Mary and my sister in Lancaster County. Sit on the OK-God-Let's-Do-It bench. Play a couple of songs for them on the bouzouki. Walk through the woods. Reminding myself that I have forgiven them (mostly) for what they did or didn't do. It's different everything I see them. They haven't changed. They're dead, but I'm different each time. This time, I really embraced what my mother Mary Jenks did for me. Of all my family members, Mom and her mother Nannie were the only two who really got the odd little boy who was me. I really appreciate them for that. Yes, it was $125 in gas just to hang there for a hour or so, but it was worth it. Life is short.

"Great Aunt Bertie's Grave, Richmond, Virginia" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks. 

6) So that's it for now. I'm slowing healing up from COVID. Still have some congestion but the sinus headache has mostly gone away. If you want to help me out financially, buy the new Step Zero e-book, or some music or prints or sticks or whatever. Alexa is doing well. It's hot and sticky here in Greensboro, but we have a bunch of bunnies in our backyard, and birds, birds, birds. Alexa figured out if she put vegetable oil on the bird feeder pole, it makes it so the chipmunks can't raid the birdseed. Smart woman, my wife. Love you all, Stu. 

"Me at Stagsville Plantation, North Carolina" (c) 2022 photo taken by another visitor to this historical site. 

"North Topsail Beach at Desk, North Carolina" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks. 

Circles and Spirals: Stu Jenks' Newsletter #5: 5/23/2022

"Coalmine Canyon East, Navajo Rez, Arizona" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks. 

1) First things first. I got COVID, probably on the plane coming back from Arizona. Yeah, shit. Thank God for the anti-viral medication Paxlovid and having been vaxxed four times. Still was a rough 4 days, fever, chills, coughing, really bad sinus headaches, but today I still have a bit of brain fog, some congestion, a little bit of a cough and a mild headache. Really glad I'm not in the hospital. Really glad I'm not dead. 

2) Went to visit Tucson on the 4th of May. Came back on the 12th. It was wonderful, to see old friends and to simply walk the land I know so well. Went to Coalmine Canyon at sunset, a personal spiritual place I've visited for over 35 years. It's changed some with many tourists now, many meaning any. (Back in the day, I would see no one at all.) That day, I ran into a pair of irritated German tourists who didn't know how to behave, and selfishly had to get their shoots right away, ignoring the fact that there was a guy right there, me, who might have given them some history and some warnings about the place (There are wild dogs there from time to time that will tear you up), but I didn't let them ruin the moment too bad (OK. A little). I took my shots and then I just soaked in the space. It's an amazing space. Feel free to visit, just be respectful. Included here are a few of the best shots I took. By the way, the tall massive hoodoo in the distance is called The Ghost. The place is haunted, say both the Hopi and the Navajo and me. Over the years I have felt the spirits and it's no joke. They are mostly friendly ghosts. Mostly. 

3) I miss my home in the desert. A lot. From the baked eggs at The Cup Cafe to the tortillas at Le Estrella Bakery. But mostly I miss the people, my art community and my recovery community and my friends. All the above. Here in Greensboro, I'm getting to know a few people, but I lived in Tucson for over 35 years. You make a lot of friends in that time, if you're not a jerk. I can be a bit much at times but I'm not a jerk. Thanks everyone who showed me such love and kindness during my time in Tucson. Means the world. Hope to be back soon. 

"La Estrella Bakery, South 12th Avenue, Tucson, AZ" (c) 2022 Mural by Ruben Moreno, image capture by Stu Jenks. 

"  "Old MLK Apartments, Downtown Tucson, AZ" (c) 2022 Mural by Ignacio Garcia, image capture by Stu Jenks. 

4) I still have a bad left leg but I was able to walk a bit in Arizona. Walking the flats near the Mustang Mountains south of Tucson was a joy. Hiking up Cathy's Fault, north of town, just hurt like a son of a bitch, but I had to go up it anyway. At the Mustangs, I drew an spiral on an anthill, for me sure, but also for two people I know who are dying of cancer, and for their friends and family. One has died, the other close to passing. It's very sad. Both are way too young. Both are way too sweet. I'm not praying for their souls. No need. In my belief system, everyone is going to Heaven or a Heaven of sorts. But I do pray for their loved ones who are left behind, grieving, sad. May all of you feel held by God, by me and by all who love you. 

"Spiral for Kris and Al, Mustang Mountains, Arizona" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks. 

5) One of the most memorable moments of my trip was when I was sleeping in my car on the Hopi Rez, along the side of the road one night. It's not a big thing. No one will bother you if you nap in your car. Just lock your doors. Anyway, in the middle of the night I got up for a minute and went outside. I gazed to the south and saw the Milky Way. Not unusual to see it if you are out in the boonies, but what made me say 'wow' out loud, was seeing our galaxy stretch all the way from the Southern horizon, almost all the way to the Northern horizon. I had never seen it stretch that far north. The sky seemed both close enough to touch and a billion miles away. Marvelous. The next morning I thought of dropping in on my Hopi friends but it was way too early to do that. I took an image of their village instead. The Youvella and Kinale families and all the others, may your days be blessed. Hug the kids for me. 

"Polacca and Nipple Butte In The Distance, First Mesa, Hopi Rez, Arizona" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks

6) Again, got back from Tucson, safe but not sound. Pretty sure I got COVID on the plane when I sat next to someone who I believe may have been sick. Frankly 2/3 of the plane were unmasked. WTF. Anyway, I'm out and about again. Took a pic of Pamela's Baby Rocking Chair along a little-traveled train track in rural North Carolina. Went up to the Blue Ridge Parkway, to get my fix of looking-far-into-the-distance. It's good to be home in NC. It's a little odd to feel at home in two places, one in Arizona and another in North Carolina, but it's certainly better than not feeling at home at all. A lot of people are homeless too you know, and just as bad, many people don't feel like they have a home even though they have a place to live. Alexa and I am truly blessed. 

"Pamela's Baby Rocking Chair, Beaver Dam Branch, North Carolina" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks. 

7) Alexa got the COVID too, from me don't you know, but she is much better now too. We are both grateful that we didn't get that sick. She says hey.

"Pink Dogwood On Our Street, Greensboro, NC" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks. 

8) So that's it for now. Thank all of you who sent prayers and good wishes on the social medias, texts, IMs and phone calls during our illnesses. Alexa and I are very happy to be on the mend. One last thing: Alexa's dad, Norman Smith, lives just down the street. Over the past week, he has dropped off fresh strawberries from his garden. As the wise man said, that does not suck. Alexa and I do live in a lovely part of the world. I know I may be overusing this word today, but we feel truly blessed. And you too. Have a blessed day. Saying that doesn't mean you are religious. It just means you are grateful. 

Love, light and luck, 

Stu

"The Road East, Coalmine Mesa, Navajo Rez, Arizona" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks. 

 

Circles and Spirals: Stu Jenks' Newsletter #4: 5/3/22

"Pamela's Baby Rocking Chair, Art Lab Building, Chapel Hill, North Carolina: Then and Now" (c) 1978, 2022 Stu Jenks. 

 

Hello, y'all, 

1) Pictured here is my sister's chair at the UNC Art Lab Building. If you want to read the Fatal Figures book for free, click here. Long story. Short version? In 1978, I found out where all the fatal traffic accidents had occurred in Chapel Hill from 1970 to the present. Then I painted Fatal Figures on those spots as an artistic statement to make people drive more cautiously. Didn't work out as I planned. Huh. Again, check out the book, if you haven't already.

After a so-so experience at the Cat's Cradle, seeing some old semi-famous Carolina classmates perform music (Chris Stamey and Peter Holsapple. They played sweetly. The headliner? Not so much.), I was driving home to Greensboro and I decided I swung by the Art Lab Building. Yep. The Fatal Figure was still on the wall. 

I thought two things: 1) what audacity I had to spray paint on the wall back in 1978. I was full of myself back then. Yeah. and 2) Pamela's chair hasn't been photographed there, as a square. I had the chair. I had the 70-200mm. Here's that image. 

That project defined my senior year in art school at UNC. It doesn't define me now, but it ain't nothing. Still surprised that no faculty member had sandblasted it away in the past 40 plus years.

2) Went to the races a couple of weeks ago. Bowman Grey Stadium racing. 1/4 mile paved. Very old track. Racing around an old football field. Enjoyed the roar of the engines. Enjoyed seeing some people of color there too. Back in the day, this was strictly white-man-land. Now, women, blacks and hispanics are allowed to enjoy racing. Somethings do change. A little. The walk to and from my car about killed me, with my left leg strain that I've had for almost 6 months, but it was fun. Do I need to go back anytime soon? Nope. But it was a hoot. 

"Bowman Grey Stadium Racing, Winston-Salem, North Carolina" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks. 

3) Tomorrow, I fly out to Tucson for 8 days. Get my teeth cleaned in Nogales, Sonora. Visit with some good friends. Eat Picacho Nachos at The Cup at the Hotel Congress. Visit Lipan Point at the Grand Canyon. And many other things. This trip is really costing me money I can't really afford to spend. Nevertheless, I hope to return to Arizona, every year or 18 months or so, no matter the cost. I need to hug a saguaro, eat a fresh flour tortilla and breathe in that hot, dry, desert air. And see some good friends. Pray that my leg doesn't hold me back too much. I got a doctor's note so I can bring my walking stick on the plane, for support. Getting old truly sucks, but as my father used to say, "It beats the alternative." Those of you in Arizona, I hope I get a chance to see some of you. 

"Pamela's Baby Rocking Chair, Lipan Point, Grand Canyon, Arizona" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks. 

"Pamela's Baby Rocking Chair, Abandoned Bowling Alley, Bedford, Virginia" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks. 

4) We will have a lot of time to talk about the recent Supreme Court leak/revelation. If this doesn't get the 70% of women in this county who are pro-choice to get out and vote in the fall, I don't know what will. Shameful. Sexist. Men doing more bad things to women. Nothing new, but it still makes me mad and sad every time women and poor people are treated like shit.

5) But there is still art.

There is still music.

There are still friends and family.

There is still love.

It's a dark world now, from the streets of Kiev and the backroads of Ukraine, to the Planned Parenthood building just down the street. But there is still light and love and goodness in most of us. Most of us. I need to remember that. 

Pray that my left leg holds up on this trip. I need that leg.

6) And Alexa is very good, working hard, both at work and on her tan. 

Love you guys, 

Stu

"Morning Mist" by Claude Monet. At the North Carolina Museum of Art, Raleigh, North Carolina. Image capture by Stu Jenks in 2022. Painting by Monet in 1897. 

 

Circles and Spirals: Stu Jenks' Newsletter #3: 4/21/22

"PTSD" by Clarence Heyward, acrylic and gold leaf on canvas, 2020. Image capture by Stu Jenks. 

 

Hello everyone,

1) Currently some of Clarence Heyward's work (pictured above) is being shown at the Nasher Museum of Art at Duke University in Durham, NC. This show is shunning, presenting the work of 30 emerging artists. Entitled, "Reckoning and Resilience: North Carolina Art Now", it'll be up until July 10, 2022. I've been three times already to visit this show. I can not recommend it highly enough. 

The featured painting is very large, guessing 5 feet tall at least. And yes, that is the Pledge of Allegiance in gold leaf behind the figure. 

2) Maundy Thursday service at Holy Trinity Episcopal Church, here in Greensboro, was as good as it gets. Washing of the feet. Reminding the congregation of Jesus's last commandment, "... to love one another...", the stripping of the altar, all very nice. (And to be clear, I'm not a Christian but I was raised in this Church. I do believe in a God of sorts, cosmic muffin or intuitive thought, but I don't believe in the Risen Christ. I'm more Buddhist and Deist than anything else. And yes, I believe in the ghostly presence of my ancestors in my life. Got that belief from a Native American friend years ago.) But what made me cry was a professional singer, a lovely baritone, singing "Where you there...", that old powerful slave song from almost 200 years ago. Just wonderful.

3) Not so wonderful, my prostate cancer has returned, but only a little bit. Probably the size of the head of a pin. It's a long story but the type of radiation that one cancer center planned for me was very destructive to the good surgical work of Dr. Juan Chipollini 2 years ago. Currently, I don't poop nor peed on myself and everything is working great down there, if you know what I mean. The shotgun blast radiation would change all that, possibly making me permanently incontinent, messing up my colon, and destroying my current sexual function, also maybe for good. This depressed me a lot as you can imagine. Until I remember that great medical school at my alma mater, UNC-Chapel Hill, just an hour to the east. There, I found a new urologist and radiation oncologist who does a very pinpoint radiation using a machine called the Cyber Knife. Great name. Appointment is in early June for this second opinion consultation but I'm already sold from what I've read. And my new doctor is more patient oriented in her care. I'm much more hopeful. Quality of life, baby. Quality of life.

4) The tenth anniversary edition of my first novel, Step Zero is completed and being converted to e-book-ness and soon to be uploaded to the book printer. I'll be making some book-books, but they are expensive. Soon, you'll be able to buy the e-books for either $1.99 or $.99. Attached here is the new cover art for the book. (Thanks to Michael Joplin, for turning me on the the null set symbol. That was brilliant.) 

and 5) lastly, here are some images from recent print sales of mine. I have a big inventory but I'm always, always interested in what people buy. Perhaps you are too.

Love you guys.

Thinking about y'all, and holding you in white light, as the Woo-Woo man says.

Stu. 

All images (c) Stu Jenks 2022, except for "PTSD," (c) Clarence Heyward 2022.

 

 

Circles and Spirals: Stu Jenks' Newsletter #2: 4/7/22

Hey everyone,

1) Went to SECCA recently (The Southeastern Center for Contemporary Art in Winston-Salem) and saw an amazing show entitled. Black@Intersection: Contemporary Black Voices in Art, curated by Duane Cyrus, a prof at UNC-G. So much great work from all over the world. One of my favorites is "Cupid" by Wolly McNair, out of Charlotte. (A jpeg of this is above) I reached out to Wolly and he is a very sweet and spiritual man. A delight to chat with him on Instagram.

I also went to the Nasher Museum of Art over at Duke a few weeks ago and saw a show about North Carolina Artists Today, many if not most were Black artists.

In three words, It's fucking time.

When I was in art school the big thing was, "Let's promote women artists. The time of white guys only making art and getting it seen should be over." And for the most part it is. It appears in my absence from North Carolina since the early 80's, they have decided it's time to promote artists of color and women artists too, beside just the white guys. I couldn't be happier.

Except for this one little thing. The work by these younger artists is so good and so thoughtful, it makes me want to stop making stuff. That feeling only lasted a day or two, but in the back of my mind, do we really need more me? Perhaps yes, perhaps no, but I'm happy as a clam in cool sand that the art world is including the other 70% of the American population now, not just the white guys.

2) Went to the Dean Dome to watch the NCAA Championship game, but mostly just to see the building from the inside. It is amazing to sit in the stands, for free no less. I left early in the first half of the game, for a number of reasons, a) I really couldn't see the game that well on the four big screens, b) I could hear well either, and c) I had a gut feeling we were going to lose, and I could tell that if UNC lost, it might get ugly here. Not by the students but from the middle aged guys who came that night, who were already angry it appears, I don't know why. I drove home to Greensboro and watched the second half on my TV. Carolina lost to Kansas but it was OK. We beat Duke in the semifinal game and Hubert Davis and all the guys had a great end of their season. Fun fact: I'm now a born again U of A fan. I'm loving me some Tommy Lloyd. Excited about the future of Arizona basketball. And of course I love the Zags. A good year of college basketball. Now onto the NBA. Go Suns.

3) Being poor sucks. Really sucks. I get a small retirement and I'm working part time being a Legal Zoom Monitor but I don't make that much money really. And image and sculpture sales are way down, but I'm still making a little coin from the music online. I'm just poorer than I've been since the 1980's. I have everything I need but I'm not sure where I'm going to get the money to print the new Step Zero book. And I need new glasses. And new shoes. And a tune up for the truck. Heavy sigh. I know as we get older, we live more on fixed incomes and such, but Jeez Louise. I'm not trying to manipulate anyone into giving me money. Just being transparent about what it's like to be a creative person in my late 60s and not having a lot of extra cash and not selling that much. And baby needs a new pair of shoes or rather hiking boots. But if I talk about it, I'll be less depressed about it. I know that. And it reminds me to be grateful for what I have. Unlike the Talking Heads song, this is my beautiful house. This is my beautiful wife.

4) Speaking of beauty, about half of all the houses on our little street have dogwood trees. The street's ablaze with white and pink flowers. It's really nice. I've been more of a Fall and a Winter person in the past, but I think I get Spring now. The trees and flowers and birds are waking up and having sex with each other, so to speak. The robins and bunnies in our backyard certainly are. It's sweet. I've actually named two of the bunnies, who have scars on their bodies so I can identify them. Bruno and Roberta, They are hard to photograph but I'll try and get some pics of them for you in the future.

5) and lastly, I've visited an undisclosed part of the Haw River a couple of times, harvesting some dead Red Cedar wood for my Late Stage Capitalism sculpture series. Don't think I'm on private property, hopeful it's county or state property and I'm just salvaging dead wood and not that much of it, but I do see those no trespassing signs way over there and it doesn't make me happy. I'm positively Native about land ownership. It's good to have a little piece of land to live on and to ranch or farm it, but to individually own large tracts of land for no other purpose then to make money, drives me a little nuts. 42% of the state of Arizona is owned by the federal government, which means I can walk and hike almost all of that. (If you add the AZ Land Trust Land, it's way over 50% I'm sure.) I know I'm on the east coast where white men have owned land, property, women and Africa-Americans for centuries. I know the history. Women? Less ownership for the past 50 years. Blacks? Well, lynching doesn't happen anymore, but we don't get points for that. I digress. No Trespassing signs just piss me off, particularly when I'm in the middle of nowhere, near a river, having walked through spider webs and stickers to get there. I'm a Westerner, a desert rat. I know I'm not in Kansas or the Sonoran Desert anyway. Just trying to find my way in a land that really isn't my home. Gathering four or five cedar sticks, then bringing them home, cutting, sanding and oiling them, and making art from them, helps me get through. Makes me quite happy. And I like giving walking sticks away to people I love too. It does not suck. And boy doesn't my workshop/garage smell great after I"ve been stripping some cedar bark. Lovely.

Life is good, unless I start to think about it too much, but it's good if I feel it. Just feel the feelings and let it go and all that good shit. But that does work. I'm feeling it right now and in the here and now, it's all good.

I have love and life and dogwoods. 

Love you all

Keep your lamp trimmed and burning.

Stu

Matt Antone: Elder Brother (The Late Stage Capitalism Series by Stu Jenks)

“Matt Antone (Elder Brother), Desert Agave, The Road to Sonoita, Arizona” © 2022 Stu Jenks, $225 (Shipping included in the price.)

[See the vision statement in my March 28th, 2022 post. It's all things falling apart, but we still have each other.]

 

 

The Late Stage Capitalism Series by Stu Jenks

 

Elton “Ellie” Swann, Spiral Red Oak, North Carolina” (c) 2022 Stu Jenks, 38 inches tall, $295 (Shipping included in the price.)

 

 

The Vision Statement for the Late Stage Capitalism Series by Stu Jenks.

 

"Late capitalism is a pyramid racket on a global scale...getting the suckers to believe it's all gonna go on forever.” -Thomas Pynchon, Bleeding Edge, 2013

Things are falling apart.

I can go through the litany of all the broken things, but you all know what I’m talking about: Greed and avarice are the new religion; The world is heating up, storms worsen, ice melting, CO2 increasing and it’s mostly the fault of old white men, who have money, power and who don’t give a shit about you or me or the future; Racism, sexism and classism had a few years of being on the wane, but now they’re back, shameless and in the forefront of our national and global politics (or perhaps it’s always been there); and the gap between the have and have-nots is greater than during The American Gilded Age, the rich get richer and the sick stay poor.

Botton line? I think it’s all coming apart, slowly, profoundly, fatally.

As an artist, I think it is my responsibility to show the hard things in the world as well as to make pretty things.

So…here is my new series of wall pieces. They started out whole, some as functioning walking sticks, some just as works of art. Now, I’ve cut them into pieces, to be hung like trophies on the wall, wildlife skulls of a dying world.

Each piece is named after a character from one of my four post-apocalyptic Step Zero novels. The world these people live in is only 50 years in the future, but I think it’s quite possible that our world too, could almost come to an end if all the oil goes away in a nuclear flash. And I also think it’s possible, that in that aftermath, we Americans would rebuilt our country, valuing the simple things: love, generosity, justice, humor, music, sobriety, feelings, consideration, and family. At least that is my prayer.

I pray also that I fulfilled the paradox of addressing a heavy subject here, and also making beautiful objects for you to enjoy.

It’s tricky, don’t you know. All of it.

Arthur "Artie" Saum, Desert Agave, Arizona (c) 2022 Stu Jenks, 59 inches tall, $200 (Shipping included in the price)

 

Balthazar "Balth" Stone, Mountain Laurel, North Carolina (c) 2022 Stu Jenks, 54 inches tall, $250 (Shipping included in the price.)

 

 

Tohono Chul 10 x 10 show 2022

From March 4th until May 29th, 2022, Tohono Chul Park in Tucson, Arizona is having their annual 10 x 10 fundraiser. A ton of art work created by a bunch of artists.

Everything is 10 inch by 10 inch, bagged and boarded, all for the low low price of $100. I have five pieces there. If you don't see the work of mine that you want on display, just ask James or any of the great museum staff and they will help you out. Great people.

10 x 10 helps Tohono Chul and it'll helps me. Good all around. (I get $50, they get $50 for each sale.)

And if you want something specific of mine, you may want to get up there early.

Love y'all.

Stu.

Pamela's Baby Rocking Chair at the Seashell Shell Gas Station

"Pamela's Baby Rocking Chair, Seashell Shell Gas Station, Winston-Salem, North Carolina" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks.

This and that, from my studio...

"Pamela's Baby Rocking Chair, Puckett's Cabin, Blue Ridge Parkway, Virginia" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks.

 

"Boulder Mountain Snow, Utah" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks.

 

"Mars and A Megalith, Avebury, UK" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks.

 

"Avebury Beech Tree Hoop Dance #2, UK" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks.

 

"Marty & Maggie Bare's Graves, Blue Ridge Parkway, North Carolina" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks.

 

"Moonrise and Venus over Hopi, Arizona" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks.

 

Image capture of William Keith's painting "Mono Lake", North Carolina Museum of Art, Raleigh, North Carolina" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks.

Hoop Dancing with Vollis Simpson...

"Hoop Dancing with Vollis Simpson, North Carolina Museum of Art, Raleigh, North Carolina" (c) 2022 Stu Jenks.

 

Four different versions, four different dances.

Everything you see is on the digital negative. No layering. Some color enhancement and cropping but that's about it. Battery powered Christmas lights make the hoops. Exposure times between 3 and 10 minutes.

And thank you to the very nice security guard who let me shoot without permission from the museum. Sweet, smart man.

For prints and image right sales, just email me at stujenks at gmail dot com.

Keep your lamp trimmed and burning,

Stu.

A deep dive into my hard drives, and a few new images as well...

"Council Rocks Flame Tower, Dragoon Mountains, Arizona" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks.

So recently I've been doing deep dives into my hard drives, to perhaps find some images I had overlooked, or reprocess some photos from the past that I can make better. It's been fun.

Here, is a Zippo lighter image, shot at dusk at Council Rocks in Arizona a few years back. (I may need to do more flame tower images here in North Carolina. Hmm.) I popped the color a bit and sharpened the photo a little. I really like this image and this place. It is the place where the Apache chief Cochise lived, and where he made peace with the Americans in the 1870's. I miss Arizona so.

Other old and a few new images are below. If you want a print of anything, reach out.

And may you all have a Merry Christmas and a blessed New Year.

Love y'all.

Stu.

"Shiprock at Dusk, New Mexico" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks.

"Washington Monument 1961, D.C." (c) Image capture Stu Jenks 2021, photographer unknown, from a postcard.

"Pamela's Baby Rocking Chair, Jesse Brown's Cabin, Blue Ridge Parkway, North Carolina" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks.


"Pamela's Baby Rocking Chair, Brown's Summit, North Carolina" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks.

"Pamela's Baby Rocking Chair (with pelican), North Topsail Island, North Carolina" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks.

"A Dartmoor Stream, UK" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks.

"Scorhill Stone Circle, Dartmoor, UK" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks.

"The British Oaks in Wistman's Wood, Dartmoor, UK" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks.

"Crowned Buddha, Ackland Art Museum, Chapel Hill, North Carolina" (c) Stu Jenks.

"Parvati, Ackland Art Museum, Chapel Hill, North Carolina" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks.

"Little Copper Dome, Broad Street, Richmond, Virginia" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks.

"Mossy Creek Church, The Valley of Virginia" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks. (The place where my fourth great-grandmother Polly is buried, in an unmarked grave)

"Rodin's Burghers, In front of City Hall, in Calais, France" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks.

"Acis and Galatea, Luxembourg Gardens, Paris, France" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks.

"Portrait of a woman, outside of Chartres Cathedral, France" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks.

"The Blue Virgin, Chartres Cathedral, France" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks.

"St. Mark's Episcopal Church, Cheyenne, Wyoming" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks.

"The Blue Mary, Parroquia de la Purisima Concepcion, Nogales, Sonora, Mexico" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks.

"Flame Spiral atop Tumamoc Hill, Tucson, Arizona" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks.

 

Pamela's Baby Rocking Chair at the Grand Canyon

"Pamela's Baby Rocking Chair, Lipan Point, Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona" (c) 2013, 2021 Stu Jenks.

 

This image is one of my favorites. A perfect winter's day at the Canyon. It's also the back cover of my book Pamela's Baby Rocking Chair (The Deaths of Mary and Pamela Jenks)

Speaking of that book, a nice thing happen to me today.

I gave the PBRC book to my father-in-law Norman Smith to read. He's a highly educated gentleman, a voracious reader, and a sweetly religious man. He read the Dementia Blues book a few days ago and liked it.

"It's very well written, Stu," he said. "Thank you, Norman," I said.

High praise from a man of few words.

But this morning as he was dropping off the paper (He lives just up the street from Alexa and I and he shares his newspaper with us), he got out of his car and said:

"You did a wonderful job writing your mother's eulogy. As good if not better than the priest's. And I love the Bible passage you picked for your mother. Oh, my."

That touched me a lot. I know I'm an OK writer and I was the designated eulogist for the Jenks clan for years, because I knew how to write, how to speak, and how to not talk too long at a funeral.

But still.

It was nice to hear such kind words from the only father figure I have in my life. A very sweet moment.

(As always, if you want to buy something: books, prints, and music, you know where to find me. www.stujenks.org, here, bandcamp, CDbaby, Bookbaby, and at Amazon and Apple stores. Have a great day, y'all.)

Recent images from Downtown Richmond, Virginia.

Images from my recent Dia De Los Muertos trip to Virginia.

These are from the Broad Street area in Downtown Richmond.

Happily, Richmond Camera Shop still exists, except now is in Carytown away from downtown. I remember the 8mm movie boxes my Dad had, that got processed at Richmond Camera. Great that this old camera store still exists.

Also, Robert E. Lee is gone. Bye, bye.

And who doesn't like old brick and old glass from a hundred years ago. And the police sculpture is near the entrance of the downtown cop shop.

Broad Street is getting fancy again, with high end hotels, hipster apartments, and clothing boutiques. It was that way 100 years ago, then it decayed, and is now coming back. Feels a little odd though. Income inequality and the lack of a living wage from close to a majority of Americans angers me and it bugs me to see rich folk walk past the homeless and act like they are not there. That's also part of Broad Street, but I'm guessing in 1914, that happened as well.

I still love the old glass and the red brick though. Living in Tucson for decades, this old architecture is new-ish to me. I moved away from Richmond when I was 5.

It's been a long time since I've walked down Broad Street, holding my mother's hand, going to Thalhimiers Department Store to eat a club sandwich for lunch. I remember that like it was yesterday.

 

Dia De Los Muertos at the Jenks family plot in Lancaster County, Virginia.

I live here in Greensboro, North Carolina now, but I'm really from Tucson, Arizona.

Part of the border culture, is the annual Dia de los Muestos celebrations. In Sonora, Mexico and Sonoran Arizona, many families on the nights and days around November 2nd, go to their family cemetery plots and clean the graves. They also bring favorite foods and beverages of the deceased, and fresh marigold flowers to decorate the graves of their loved ones. Many stay throughout the nights, drinking and eating, telling funny stories about the deceased, having a good time with friends and family, both living and dead. It's a big deal. Some towns in Sonora, Mexico will have parades honoring the dead. In Tucson, we have the All Souls' Procession, where many thousands of people march through downtown, dressed as the dead, or with placards acknowledging their dead loved ones. A large steel urn filled of written prayers is taken to a site near the Santa Cruz river, where the urn is set ablaze, sending prayers skyward. It's a big deal. (I've been lucky enough to be one of the All Souls photographers over the decades.)

Having moved back to the South, I realize that I had an opportunity to go full-on Day of the Dead with my ancestors. On the way to the Jenks family plot the other day, I visited my grandparents and my great-grandparents in Richmond, along with visiting the grave of my murdered great aunt Bertie. The story of Aunt Bertie's murder and what happened to her two young children can be found at this link. After visiting my folks and my sister, I placed flowers and candles at my great-great grandparents and my great-great-great grandparents graves in Oak Grove Cemetery in Lexington, Virginia. It was kinda-sorta on the way home.

But the main event was at Mary's, Stuart's, and Pamela's graves at St. Mary's Whitechapel Episcopal Church, in Lancaster County, Virginia, near the shores of the Rappahannock River.

Some background regarding St. Mary's Whitechapel and my mother's religious life:

My mother Mary was a big deal in the Diocese of Virginia, being on the Standing Committee and committing her life to service in the Episcopal Church. The rector at St. Mary's in the late 90's and early 2000's was a delight. Loved Mom. Loved trains. However, the rector after him, was an ex-divorce attorney who became a priest late in life. She was frankly horrible, a control freak, pushing mother out of her roles at St. Mary's. Granted, my mother was a force of nature and was a pain in the neck on more than one occasion, but that priest could have fired my mother with a bit more empathy and grace, given she is working with an elderly woman who is doing all this for free. It broke my mother's heart. The current priest at St. Mary's is a very nice woman who I've only met once. Seems very grounded, sweet, and genuine.

Some background regarding on the St. Mary's Whitechapel Graveyard:

The church and the graveyard have been around since 1669. Yeah. 1669. There have been in the past a lot of rules and regulations regarding what you can leave at the graves. No potted plants. No toys. No plastic flowers. No this, no that. They used to enforce this rigidly, but from what I saw the other night, not so much. Potted plants are there. Small figurines are there. A recent burial from a few months ago still had its wilting flowers and the cardboard photo of the deceased. The current priest I believe is doing the right thing, being more flexible. Then again, when she sees the mess I made she might think differently.

I looked all over for marigolds and only found a few late in the process. Trader Joe's sunflowers did just fine.

The food for each person consisted of these:

For Mom, cottage cheese. She loved her cottage cottage.

For Dad, a can of tuna, a can of collard greens, and a single tuna wrap from Trader Joe's. (I ate the second tuna wrap.) Dad loved his tuna fish.

And Pamela, it's bagels.

Many of you have heard me tell the Pamela Jenks Bagel Story. Of her yelling at the Harris Teeter clerk in the frozen food isle in Raleigh.

"Excuse me sir. Can you tell me where the fucking frozen begals are?!!!" Clerk running toward us. "Madam, please don't use that kind of language." Pamela yelling, "Why the fuck not!!!" Clerk's brain going into vapor lock. Him, slowly walking away. Me, just standing there smiling. Not my first Pamela Jenks rodeo.

Pamela yelled and cussed everywhere she went. She wasn't crazy crazy, but she was Southern crazy.

As far as drink goes, that was problematic. All the beverages would have been alcoholic. Me being in recovery, driving with three liquid rattlesnakes in the back of my truck was not a good idea. I went with cans of Arizona Ice Tea, with what they liked to drink written in sharpie on the side of the cans. "Pamela liked scotch." "Dad liked beer." "Mom liked wine." It worked just fine. (Throughout the night, I actually drank Pamela's iced tea. It was very good.)

I placed the food, drink, flowers and candles at each of my loved ones' graves. Put one single flower on my grave, just to include me in all the fun. The Virgin of Guadalupe candles really brought it all together.

I arrived around 5 p.m. and stayed throughout the night, only leaving around 3 a.m. so I could make it to Lexington to place flowers and candles at the Beeton's and Jenks' graves. I place a towel on the "OK God Let's Do It" bench to keep my butt warm, and I played a little woo-woo music on my phone, specifically Steve Roach and Kevin Brahany's "Western Spaces". Hearing that music made me miss Utah and Arizona terribly, but it was still very nice to hear it softly echo throughout the forest.

It's hard to put in words the powers of those few hours. Sometimes if you say too much about a spiritual experience it lessens it resonance in your life. This is one of those times. I felt like crying but I didn't. Just felt sad, mostly because Mary is gone. I miss Mom.

At one point, I walked down to the road to see if I could see the burning candles. I could see the one on top of Dad's headstone. 'Man,' I thought. 'If you are driving down Lively Road tonight and looked up at just the right time, you will see that candle. Won't that be delightfully spooky.'

It was a very good night. Next year, I will return again to honor the dead.

I hope the priest doesn't feel mad at me about all of this. My guess is she will roll with it. But I did leave a candle burning, many flowers and food lying around. My guess is the deer and other wildlife will make short work of the cottage cheese, the tuna wrap and the bagels. The raccoons will have a tough time though, getting into the tuna fish can and the collard greens can, but those little guys are pretty resourceful. You never know.

Rest in peace, Mom, Dad, and Pamela. You were not always the best family, but you are my family.

There is an old metaphysical saying, that our parents did a shitty job, but they did the best they could with the skills they had, and in that paradox, can be find peace and compassion.

I found peace and compassion the other night, in the dark, at my family's graves.

I'm blessed.

#allsoulsday, #diadelosmuertos, #thejenks, #stujenks.

“Stuart Carlyle Jenks, Jr. (For Aunt Gracie), White Ash, North Carolina” [Extended Family Series]

“Stuart Carlyle Jenks, Jr. (For Aunt Gracie), White Ash, North Carolina” © 2021 Stu Jenks.

The terrible story of Grace Jenks Lester Wadworth's family abandonment is at this link.

The short version is this: Her mother, my great aunt Bertie, was murdered in 1914. Her and her brother Jimmy, ages 3 and 5, were put in orphanages in Richmond, VA by my great grandparents, my grandfather, and his siblings. No one ever visited. The family didn't take them in themselves. All the Jenks kids were adults but they just gave them up to the system and turned their backs on little Gracie and Jimmy, forever. Shameful. Horrible. Even my father Stuart Jenks was never told the story about Gracie and Jimmy.

Gracie died in 1994. I never met her. But I could have. I never met Jimmy either, nor know where he is.

As part of my Dia De Los Muertos (Day of the Dead) celebrations, Aunt Grace got a visit from me yesterday. Her grave is 3 hours away in Wilmington. She didn't get food or drink, because she rests in a Veterans cemetery, but she did get a candle and a walking stick.

About this walking stick.

I made it for myself to use on the trails. The problem is this: I don't use walking sticks when I hike. Never have. I've either got a 70-200 mm in my hand, or a mandolin on my back, or a saw and gloves in the other hand. A stick would just be another something for me to carry. (The irony doesn't escape me. I've made over a 150 of these suckers, but I don't use one myself.)

That being said, I thought Gracie should have it, or perhaps a passerby or a cemetery caretaker will take it away. That's fine. It's the thought, the intention, that counts. And I already have the "Gracie Jenks Lester Wadsworth" walking stick/wall piece at my house, which is part of my private collection.

Bottom line? Gracie needed a stick yesterday, and I have plenty of them.

I also played a little mandolin at her grave yesterday, as the sun went down. It was a sweet moment for me, maybe for her too.

Rest in peace, Gracie. I didn't know you at all, but I still feel angry on how my family treated you. If your spirit can hear me, know that I'm truly sorry for the horrible crap my family did or rather didn't do for you.

And know that I love you. I hope you're OK wherever your soul might be.

#stujenks, #graciejenkslesterwadsworth, #extendedfamilyseries

 

Red Maples Leaves

"Red Maple leaf, on the branch in my front yard, Greensboro, North Carolina" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks.

 

"Red Maple left, on a white rock, Cane Creek, North Carolina" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks.

 

Tobacco Barn, Caswell County, North Carolina

"Tobacco Barn, Caswell County, North Carolina" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks

As I was taking this image, I could see the final composition in my mind's eye. I love fine elegant composition. I like how easy my eye moves around this photograph: down the roof line, back up to the trees, resting on the upper door and the red wood for a second, then back down the roof line again. I'm also grateful to have really good glass (Canon 70-200 mm f/2.8 IS lens) to make it all happen.

My father used to say, "it's a sad dog that won't wag its own tail" 

Well, Dad, I'm wagging here.

Pamela's Baby Rocking Chair, Ruby's Mini-Mart, Caswell County, North Carolina

"Pamela's Baby Rocking Chair, Ruby's Mini-Mart, Caswell County, North Carolina" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks.

 

A day at the Great Smoky Mountains National Park

All photos (c) Stu Jenks 2021

Sarah Spencer and Charlsie Dickson

"Sarah Spencer, Ashe County, North Carolina" (c) image capture 2021 Stu Jenks.

 

"Charlsie Dickson, Ashe County, North Carolina" (c) image capture Stu Jenks 2020.

 

On Joe Thomas Road, not far from my wife's family farm, is an small cemetery. Atop a hill, surrounded by mountain pastures and farm land, this cemetery is a lovely spot to stop, walk, and look around.

I've walked the grounds a couple of times. The first time in 2020, I found little Charlsie's portrait, her having died in 1926 at age 8.

A few weeks ago, I found Sarah's grave. Unfortunately, I did not photograph her whole stone so I don't precisely know when she died and how old she was, but I recall she was in her 30's and she also died in the early 20th century.

I'm struck by Sarah's beauty and her passionate intelligent eyes. Speaking of eyes, and I may be projecting here, but Charslie looks so sad. Sweet and sad. But that could be my 21st century prejudices.

One thing I do know is the survivors pay for the grave stones. You can tell Charslie's parents loved her very much, enough to spend the money for a ceramic photo plaque. Those were not cheap, nor were the stones themselves. And Sarah's husband purchased a very fine stone too, and got a photo plaque made of her beautiful face.

Now I'm guessing here. I can see Sarah's husband visiting her grave often just to see her face. She was stunning with smart and kind eyes. I'm sure he missed her a lot. I can see why.

The work of Kawase Hasui

I am fortunate enough to live two miles from a wonderful university-based art museum, the Weatherspoon Art Museum, associated with the University of North Carolina at Greensboro.

Right now, they are having their annual paper show and a traveling Japanese woodblock print show. These are four of the image captures I took at the woodblock show.

I adore Kawase Hasui's work. Discovered him just a few years ago when I saw his work in another shin-hanga show in Richmond.

I'm big on good composition. Really big.

I'm also a big fan of the Bit-of-Red School of Art, where a touch of crimson dramatically highlights a painting, a print, a photograph. (An example of that can also be seen in my photograph Pamela's Baby Rocking Chair, Brown's Summit, North Carolina, at the bottom of this post).

And I'm a sucker for any winter scene.

Hasui is a master of composition, of the Bit-of-Red and of portraying wintry wonderlands.

I emotionally fall into his prints. I just do. I hope you can too from these digital images, but as you know, there is nothing like seeing a painting, a sculpture, a woodblock print, in person.

I hope you enjoy his work. He's simply magical.

 
#stujenks, #hasuikawase, woodblockprints

“Abraham Lincoln #2, Saguaro Rib, Arizona” [Extended Family Series] (Originally "Thomas Hart Benton")

“Abraham Lincoln #2, Saguaro Rib, Arizona” © Stu Jenks 2021, 56 inches tall. (Originally "Thomas Hart Benton")

Price: $125, shipping included. Simply contact me via my email address at stujenks@gmail.com or Facebook message me, if you would like to purchase one of my pieces. Payments can be made with Paypal, Venmo or credit card with Square. All pieces are signed with its title, and can be hung from the wall.

 

This is a very complicated piece.

Originally this stick was made for Thomas Hart Benton. A painting of his in the North Carolina Museum of Art moves me greatly. (An image capture of that painting is at the bottom of this post.) This 1945 painting is of a family moving from their home before flood waters reach them and their house. A few years ago, that painting was a powerful metaphor for me, because I had to leave my wife and Greensboro to return home to Tucson, in order to work, and make a living. I felt like that man lifting that bed into the wagon.

So. I made Thomas Hart Benton a walking stick. Signed it and everything.

Then I saw Ken Burns' documentary on the man a couple of weeks ago.

Benton was a complete and utter asshole it appears.

He treated everyone badly: wife, students, contemporaries, you name it. He drank way too much. He hated gays and said often how much he disliked the 'limp wrist crowd'. He thought he was the greatest artist who ever lived. He was a bad guy.

Jackson Pollack was one of his students. Benton said of Pollack, "The only thing I taught Jack was how to drink a 1/5 of scotch a day." A day. I know.

I told Alexa about my displeasure with the man. She suggested I burn the stick. I kind of liked that idea. It would burn like a son of a bitch in our fireplace. But I choose a more middle path, sanding off Benton's name and dedicating the stick to someone I actually care about, like Abraham Lincoln.

Old Abe already has a piece made in his honor, a saguaro stick, somewhat heavier from this one. I've been wanting to make Honest Abe another functioning walking stick, something he might have actually used if we had lived at the same time, and he happened to wander into my studio in 19th Century Washington, D.C.

So Mr. Lincoln, you get another stick.

And Thomas Hart Benton? You are shit out of luck. Love your paintings but you can go straight to hell. As you can tell, I feel very strongly about this.

I've said this since I was in art school, said it for decades actually:

You can be a good person and a good artist all at the same time.

The asshole white male artist driven by his creative passions is a cop-out. You, Benton, Picasso, many others, just didn't give a fuck about other people. You were children who just wanted you wanted when you wanted it, wrapping your awful behaviors in artistic rhetoric. It's a rationalization, not a vision statement. Simply, you were dicks. You knew it. I know it. Fuck you.

I've had the opportunity to make sticks for extended family members who were jerks. I've only made one, and that was the Uncle Courtney Saum/Donald Trump stick. If I'm going to spend the hours making lovely pieces, I want to make them only for lovely people. Just the way this artist is built.

Sorry for the lecture. Here enddeth the lesson.

#lincoln, #stujenks, #extendedfamilyseries, #thomashartbenton

"Sacajawea, Mountain Laurel, North Carolina" [Extended Family Series]

“Sacajawea, Mountain Laurel, North Carolina” © 2021 Stu Jenks, 68 inches long.

Price: $200, shipping included. Simply contact me via my email address at stujenks@gmail.com or Facebook message me, if you would like to purchase one of my pieces. Payments can be made with Paypal, Venmo or credit card with Square. All pieces are signed with its title, and can be hung from the wall.

 

We all know that Sacajawea helped Lewis and Clark in the expedition west, but I didn't know that she had been bought by the French trapper Toussaint Charbonneau from another tribe to be his wife/slave. Charbonneau also came along for the ride with Lewis and Clark and the others.

Truly, the reason Sacajawea proved so valuable on that trip was she spoke many of the native languages of the tribes along the way, and because she was a Native American woman among all white people. Many of the tribes would have simply killed the members of the expedition if Sacajawea wasn't there, walking with her infant son in her arms. And reading between the lines, she was a lot more fun to be around than her husband Toussaint. I just find it interesting that Charbonneau is lost to time. Sweet justice if you ask me, that we don't remember at least one white jerk at all.

Note to the U.S. mint: It was nice of you to make the Sacagawea Dollar but y'all messed up, making it roughly the size of a quarter. You can still fix this problem now, making the coin more like the British One Pound coin, roughly the size of a nickel but much much thicker and heavier in weight. Americans I believe would use that dollar, if it didn't feel just like a quarter in our pockets. Yes, yes, passing extensive national voting rights legislation to keep our country from falling into complete autocracy is a number one priority, but making a good dollar coin should be up there too. Just saying.

#sacajawea, #stujenks, #extendedfamilyseries

"Guy Clark, Dogwood, North Carolina" [Extended Family Series]

“Guy Clark, Dogwood, North Carolina” © 2021, 57 inches tall.

Price: $125, shipping included. Simply contact me via my email address at stujenks@gmail.com or Facebook message me, if you would like to purchase one of my pieces. Payments can be made with Paypal, Venmo or credit card with Square. All pieces are signed with its title, and can be hung from the wall.

 

I was fortunate enough to see the singer-songwriter Guy Clark perform at Hardly Strictly Bluegrass, in San Francisco, in 2010. I even video taped him with real live gear. I knew who he was from songs like LA Freeway and Desperados Waiting For A Train but I really didn't know how remarkable he truly was. Until that day.

An old and ailing man, he still put his back into every song. I am blessed to have experience that performance.

Here is the link to YouTube of Guy Clark performing "Let It Roll" that day.

Dogwood seems like the perfect wood for a country gentleman like Guy.

Rest in peace, Mr. Clark. You touched many.

#guyclark, #extendedfamilyseries, #stujenks.

“Dave Drake The Slave Potter, Saguaro Ribs, Arizona” [Extended Family Series]

“Dave Drake The Slave Potter, Saguaro Ribs, Arizona” © Stu Jenks 2021. 88 inches tall.

 

Price: $695, shipping included. Simply contact me via my email address at stujenks@gmail.com or Facebook message me, if you would like to purchase one of my pieces. Payments can be made with Paypal, Venmo or credit card with Square. All pieces are signed with its title, and can be hung from the wall.

 

This is from Dave Drake's wikipedia page:

"David Drake (c. 1800 – c. 1870s), also known as "Dave Pottery" and "Dave the Potter," was an American potter and enslaved African American who lived in Edgefield, South Carolina. Drake lived and worked in Edgefield for almost all his life.

Drake produced alkaline-glazed stoneware jugs between the 1820s and the 1870s. An enslaved African American, he often signed his works "Dave." He is recognized as the first enslaved potter to inscribe his work, during a time when most enslaved people were illiterate, often forbidden from literacy, and anonymous. Drake inscribed his work with poetry, often using rhyming couplets, as well as his signature."

 

Leonard Todd, an descendant of one of Dave's slave owners, wrote a book about the potter. There is some controversy around some of the facts of his life represented there, but it's a lovely book, written by someone who appears to care deeply about Dave.

Dave until recently was known only as "Dave The Slave Potter" or "Dave", not using his last name, given the cruelty of his first owner, Harvey Drake, but since in a census of 1870, Dave used the name "Dave Drake" to represent himself so he could vote, most folk now use his full name.

Dave, like all enslaved people in the South, experienced many horrors and terrible loses. Even though firm facts are hard to come by, it appears Dave's wife and children were sold away from him and shipped to Louisiana. He lost a leg at some point, stated by some that he lost it when he fell asleep on a railroad track after drinking, but it's just as likely he was tortured by one of his owners, and lost his leg due to that injury. Cutting off legs, hands and fingers was common place, back then, for slaves who 'misbehaved.' His last owner, Lewis Miles, doesn't appear to have been that horrible and allowed Dave to write poetry and one-liners on his pots, even though it was very much against the law at the time.

One of the sadness lines on one of Dave's pots is "I wonder where is all my relations. Friendship to all and every nation," alluding to how friends and family of enslaved people were sold away from each other, never to see each other again.

I was fortunate to see one of Dave's large jars in a show here in North Carolina a few years ago. I can't remember the inscription exactly but the line on the jug mentioned how 'Christmas is the saddest time of the year.' That was because slave owners gave each other slaves as Christmas gifts, callously breaking apart families, giving children away from their parents, separating husbands and wives. Slaves were not people. They were property. Frankly, this sad history still echos in the land around here, in North Carolina, where I live.

In spite of some of its apparent errors, Leonard Todd's book Carolina Clay: The Life and Legend of The Slave Potter Dave is a joy to read, and a tome filled with sadness and beauty. I highly recommended it.

My large wall piece here mirrors the size and strength of the man, the sculpture being over 7 feet tall. At the bottom of the old Saguaro rib, it is missing one of its 'legs', honoring that Dave threw pots with only one leg, having another person kick the wheel for him.

This piece of art is very meaningful to me, hanging proudly in my garage workshop. However I would be happy to sell it, and part with it, so that it can be seen by others in person.

Ironically, pots and jars of Dave's that sold for only a few dollars and cents during his lifetime, are now selling for hundreds of thousands of dollars, one jar bought by a museum at auction in 2020 for $369,000. Yeah. I know.

Thousands and thousands of pottery pieces were produced by slaves in the 18th and 19th century in the South. Luckily, Dave Drake's last slave owner, Lewis Miles, allowed him to write on his pots. And happily Dave knew how to read and write, and he knew how to turn a phrase.

No photo was ever taken of Dave. We know he was a big man.

He was a large man in height and size, and a large man with a very big heart.

God bless you, Mr. Drake.

(And I'm fully aware that in your lifetime, you never ever called "Mr. Drake." But you should have been.)

#dave, #daveslave, #davepotter, #extendedfamilyseries, #stujenks

"Annie Beeton, Red Ash Wood, Virginia" [Extended Family Series]

“Annie Beeton, Red Ash Wood, Virginia” © Stu Jenks 2021, 54 inches tall.

Price: $150, shipping included. Simply contact me via my email address at stujenks@gmail.com or Facebook message me, if you would like to purchase one of my pieces. Payments can be made with Paypal, Venmo or credit card with Square. All pieces are signed with its title, and can be hung from the wall.

 

Annie Beeton is my great-great-grandmother. She was married to John Allen Beeton, who fought in the Civil War. Johnny worked at Virginia Military Institute and at Washington and Lee College in Lexington, Virginia. I do not know his job. Both are buried in Lexington.

It's a beautiful cemetery and John gave Annie a lovely grave marker after she died. She died young in 1883 at the age of 45. Johnny died in 1902 at the age of 73. Annie's name is on the other side of this monument. I did photograph her side of the stone but the light wasn't that good that day. But she's there. Her name was the first to be placed on this stone.

Here's the thing that bothers the heck out of me.

Almost nothing is known about Annie. We know that she bore a son William in 1858 and a daughter Ella in 1863. We know that her father Richard was 30 and her mother Jane was 17 when she was born in 1838. We know she lived most of her life in Lexington. We know she died there. But that's about it.

It upsets me that most American women in the 19th century were basically property. They were expected to bear children, raise them and make a home for her family and herself, but little is written about women of that time. Men write a lot about other men, but rarely do they write about their wives, nor do the newspapers nor does the society at large pay them much attention. What we can figure out about Annie is through what was written about her husband, Johnny. And a lot of guessing.

John Henry Beeton made munitions in Richmond, Virginia during the Civil War. Was quite good at it, it appears. He also transferred out of Stonewall Jackson's Brigade as soon as he could at the beginning of the War. Stonewall was greatly disliked by many as a professor at the Virginia Military Institute. Johnny worked at VMI before the War. He was 30 when the War began. He got a relatively safe job in Richmond making guns and ammo after leaving Stonewall's command. He must have gotten back to Lexington during the War at some point because my great-grandmother Ella was born in May of 1863. After the War, Johnny came home but didn't return to work at VMI. He worked at Washington and Lee College for the rest of his career.

We can guess that he loved Annie very much, given the large ornate grave marker he had made for her and himself. He never remarried after her death. A lot of men of that time did. Their two kids were grown when she died. Again, I'm going by the extravagance and the size of the grave stone. Most stones in this cemetery are not this grand. Johnny spent some money on this. I can imagine how much he loved her, but I don't know for sure. I can guess her kids loved her too. I have no idea how she died. We have photos of Johnny in his Confederate uniform but no photos of Annie.

Makes me sad I don't know more about her, or that any of us know her better.

My wife jokingly says, "Men are the reason for all the world's problems." She making a joke but a dark joke. It's pretty much true.

The world is far from perfect, but I'm so happy that most women are no longer anonymous in the world. They are known and seen and heard. At least a little bit. We are slowly getting to place of gender and sexual equality.

Big hug Annie, from your great-great-grandson Stu. Your daughter Ella met and married Francis Jenks in Lexington in the 1880's and they had my grandfather Edgar as one of their five children, whose wife Lillie had my dad Stuart, whose wife Mary had me.

Again, I wish I knew more about you, Annie, but given your beautiful grave marker, I'm guessing that Johnny loved you very much. And your children did too. I choose to believe that.

So Annie, here's a pretty but imperfect red ash walk stick, made especially for you. I love you from afar, from across time. It's how I'm built.

#extendedfamilyseries, #stujenks, #redashwood

The PBRC at North Topsail Island

"Pamela's Baby Rocking Chair, North Topsail Island, North Carolina" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks.

I went down to the beach, on a rainy day, to try out a new hand board for body surfing I had recently bought, but the waves were only wind-made, very choppy, and the current was too strong for me to really effectively use the hand board.

I'm just old school, I guess, about body surfing. Just put me in the ocean and see if I can catch some waves. I had a 10 foot long board, before it was stolen a few years ago, but given the smaller waves here on the East Coast, body surfing without the weird hand board, for now, will do just fine. 

I got beaten up pretty good by the waves, and the current was a lot to fight, but I had a great time. I like being beat up by the waves. I think most surfers feel that way: We like to catch waves, either on a board or with our bodies, but the stories and the big-time-fun comes from wiping out. I laughed out loud a few times as I was getting thrown around by the sea. So much fun.

Before surfing, I took these pics of the PBRC in the surf. Business before pleasure, don't you know.

Lazarus and Jesus at Duke Cathedral

"Jesus at Duke Cathedral, Durham, North Carolina" (c) 2021. Image Capture by Stu Jenks.

 

"Lazarus at Duke Cathedral, Durham, North Carolina" (c) 2021. Image capture by Stu Jenks.

 

Last time I visited Duke Cathedral on campus, I was a child.

A few days ago, I returned with a long lens. From a distance, the glass is lovely but close up using my SLR camera, the Gothic-styled stained glass is down right creepy. Most of the faces had white-all-around eyes. Yikes.

I don't know who looks worse, Lazarus or Jesus.

(Actually, I find the Lazarus window very evocative and quite beautiful.)