Stu Jenks' Fezziwig Press

Christmas Haiku #38

Christmas Haiku #38

 

New solstice prayer: 

Chemo, kick some cancer ass;

And heal everyone.

 

(c) Stu Jenks December 20th, 2022

 

Image: Painting by Rockwell Kent, at the Taubman Museum of Art, Roanoke, VA. Image capture by me. 

 

Circles & Spirals: Stu Jenks' Newsletter #11: August 31st, 2022

"Abandon All Hope, Joe McFall, Hickory Art Museum, North Carolina." (c) Image captures by Stu Jenks, 2022.

1) Before I get into a commentary about Outsider Art and Art in general, a health update: 

Alexa is slowly on the mend. It's going to take a while. 

I'm slowly on the mend. Looks like it's going to take a while for me too.

I'm having nerve pain and gastrointestinal issues, post-radiation on my prostate area, more than I had during the entire 8 weeks of my cancer treatment. I didn't expect that. My lovely urologist Juan in Tucson says it's going to take a few weeks for me to heal, that all of this is normal. My anxiety lessened with those hopeful words from Juan, but the pain and discomfort has not. I'm two weeks out of radiation. I'm not going to freak out until October if it all still hurts the same as today. They say 2 to 6 weeks. Guess that's what it is. Acceptance doesn't mean approval. 

2) Now, some art criticism: 

Included in this newsletter are image captures of Joe McFall's amazing piece "Abandon All Hope", which is on permanent display at the Hickory Art Museum, here in North Carolina. They have an extensive collection of what they call "Folk Art", which I tend to call "Outsider Art". Traditional, this work is made by not formally trained artists who have a certain vision about the world, sometimes religious, sometimes humorous, sometimes fueled by a bit of mental health and substance abuse issues. Notable among these are Vollis Simpson, Horace Pippin, Morace Hirshfield and many others. 

At the Hickory Art Museum, I learned this, or rather I thought this:

There is also bad and exploitative folk/outsider art. Much of what I saw there felt like a con. Sorry but it did.  Some work was amazing too, but other stuff felt like some people were just trying to cash in on the popularity of people like Vollis Simpson, who late in his life, did make some serious coin from his work (as he should have, because he's brilliant), but much of what I saw felt more like a way to make money and less about projecting your artistic vision. Except some pieces, and the work of Joe McFall.

And, not surprisingly, when I got home and searched the internet, I discovered, again, that a lot of this Outsider Art is bringing huge prices at art auctions. 

Let's talk about Joe McFall for a second.

Not much is known of him, and I searched a lot. No wikipedia page. Only auction house tallies of his work sold, not by him but by art collectors. Joe does or did have some serious substance abuse issues. "Abandon All Hope" was created after he got out of a substance abuse detox center. And it appears he was originally from Tennessee. That's about it. I could have found a curator to talk to at the Hickory Art Museum who probably knew more, but I didn't that day. There was a little info on the label for the piece but not much. 

I really love this piece. It shows his views on addiction, both his own and of the world at large. It shows the seriousness and consequences of addictions, but also the humor of living an addict's life. It's a complicate piece and I really liked it. Addiction and recovery is a complicated thing. Just is.

However, what disturbed me, is it appears, by looking at how much money his pieces are bringing at auctions and also, by the inauthentic quality of the some of the work I saw in Hickory, that art dealers are taking advantage of addicts, alcoholics, and mentally ill people, and that pisses me off. Or maybe it's my mood regarding my cancer. Shit, I don't know, but it all smelled bad. 

Where I am truly naive is, art dealers, and art business people have been screwing over artists for centuries, whether they be relatively-sane creative folk like me, or people who have some serious mental health and/or addiction issues. I guess I just should accept it, but it still sucks. And I'm sure Mr. McFall was happy to make money off his work when it initially sold, and I'm going to guess the Hickory Art Museum did not taking advantage of Joe and paid him a fair price.

I, as an artist, have only been majorly fucked with a few times, i.e. aggressive haggling of prices for my work; reneging on the buying of my work after delivery; the stealing of images off the internet; once not getting work back from a gallery; small things like that. I've been lucky to have two great art rep in my life, and really good people I have worked with and who have shown and promoted my work. I'm grateful to all of those good folk. But it still bugs me when artists are taken advantage of by people with money and power.

My mother Mary Jenks once corrected me when I said, "Money is the root of all evil." "No, son," she said, "It is the LOVE of money that is the root of all evil, not the money itself."

Greed and avarice. An old story that never goes away.

This artistic missive here may be tainted with the penile and intestinal pain I'm experiencing now. I don't know. I do know I saw some very good art and some just terrible folk/outsider art at the Hickory Art Museum the other day. And I believe that people like Joe McFall may have been exploited in the past. Not the Hickory people doing it, but the art auction people and the wealthy people who bought his and others' work for a song.  

Here endeth the rant. 

3) Saw some great Grandma Moses paintings in Roanoke, VA recently, as well as a 'perfect' painting by Rockwell Kent from 1943. They are here as well on this post.

4) Remember to registar to vote and to vote in November. Truly our democracy depends on it. And don't fret. Trump will be indicted and convicted for probably a small felony. Proving intent is not necessary. They have him dead to rights. He'll probably cop a plea. He will not be President again, because of this conviction. Now there probably will be certain counties in America I might not want to drive in, given my bumper stickers, but I don't fucking care. I'm a liberal with a handgun and they don't scare me. Most bullies are cowards. 

As I said in January, 2017: There are more of us, Independents, Democrats and reasonable Republicans, then there are of them, the greedy, lying, avaricious fascists. We just need to fucking vote.

It's Roe-vember, baby. 

Love you all, 

Stu

All image captures by Stu Jenks (c) 2022 Stu Jenks, and Grandma Moses, Rockwell Kent, and their estates. 

"Hoop Dancing with a Vollis Simpson Whirligig, North Carolina Museum of Art, Raleigh, NC" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks. 

Circles & Spirals: Stu Jenks' Newsletter #10: August 8th, 2022

"Push and Pull" by Hugh McCloud, an image capture from a recent show at Duke University's Nasher Museum of Art in Durham, NC

1) Alexa and I are both on the mend. She's a month out of abdominal surgery and is healing well, even though it will be a long process to full health for her. But she is doing great, and she had a birthday on Sunday. Happy, happy, honey. 

2) This coming Monday, I will have my final radiation treatment. I've had 36 out of 40 Easy Bake Oven sessions as of this afternoon. Frankly, the side effects have been horrendous. I'll spare you the details. Thank f-ing God this will all be over soon. But I'm hopeful that this will have zapped the little bit of cancer that I still had after my radical prostatectomy surgery in 2020.

3) And lastly, I'm pleased and honored to have been accepted into Tohono Chul's show, Elements: Fire. The show will open on August 25th and run through early November. I hope you can get to see it, if you are in the Tucson area. James Schaub, an amazing painter in his own right, is the Director of Exhibitions at Tohono Chul Park. He has quietly championed my work for a good number of years now. Thank you, James, for picking these two pieces for your show. Included below are the vision statements for these pieces and the images themselves. 

That's it for now.

Love you all, and thanks so very much for the prayers and support you have given the Jenks, in this difficult summer for us.

Love, light and luck.

Stu

“Catalina State Park, Arizona (The Ikon)”
11 x 14 inch fiber based gelatin silver print, sepia toned
Edition: 9/25
Taken with a 1954 Rollei medium format camera, using Ilford 400 black and white film.
A time exposure of around 30 minutes, on a full moon night, the light source for the flame spiral, a Zippo lighter.
Printed in the Toole Shed Darkroom in Tucson, by me, in the early 2000’s
Price: $400

    I could tell so many stories about this image: how it was used on a Steve Roach album cover; how it became the logo of the Mythic Journeys conference in Atlanta; how one woman came up to me at an opening and said, “It is so amazing that you were there when THEY came.”; how it’s one of my top five images I’ve sold in my career; and how I’ve enjoyed telling people how I create this flame spiral image, at many open studios and gallery openings.

    Due to limited space, I’ll just tell this one story.

    In 2016, Julie Sasse, the Contemporary Art curator at the Tucson Museum of Art, asked me to show this image as part of her Into the Night: Contemporary Art and the Nocturne Tradition show. I had printed up a three large, 16 x 20 inch fiber based prints of The Ikon over the years, one hanging in the ex-CEO of Krispy Kreme donuts’ home, one stored safely away, and another framed in my studio. The large framed print was given to Julie for her show.

    That summer, a woman I knew only casually, took her godmother to see the Into The Night show. When she came to this image she said to her godmother, “I know that guy.” That started her wheels turning. “I want to get to know him,” she thought. She reached out to me a month later. In December, we will have been married five years. Her name is Alexa McCool Smith Jenks.

 

“DC-10 Spreading Retardant, Dragoon Mountains, Arizona”
4 1/2 x 8 inch archival pigment print
Shot using 70-200 mm IS glass, with Canon 5D Mark II back.
Price: $100

    It’s too bad this image doesn’t come with a soundtrack. I’ll explain.

    A few years ago, a terrible fire exploded near Cochise Stronghold in the Dragoon Mountains of Arizona. I drove down, found a low hill to stand atop of, and waiting for the DC-10s to make their passes.

    (Photographer’s Tip: To take a good picture, go out into the world, find a spot, and wait. Then wait some more. Let the image come to you. Try not to chase it. Just be present in the space. Look, wait, and see what happens. Pop the shutter then.)

    The DC-10s seemed to arrive every 20 minutes or so. I think I was there for an hour and a half. I captured two images that I liked. This is one of them.

    Here’s what you don’t see in the photograph.

    After the planes had dropped their loads, they banked hard to the left and headed back north to replenish and refuel. The little hill I was standing on was right below their flight path. I know they were probably over 100 feet above me, but it sure didn’t feel like it, as the sound and force of their accelerating engines shook my body. It was fabulous, almost as loud as a Social Distortion concert at the Rialto Theatre.

    Almost.

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 #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

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.

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