Stu Jenks' Fezziwig Press

A free epub of Dementia Blues for y'all (and a hidden Leviticus track too)

A writer friend today suggested I submit one of my self-pub books to this book contest thingy. Win between $1000 to $5000 if they pick your book. It's a bit of a scam, our $65 submission costs supporting whoever the hell Winning Writers are, but I had that much cash in my Paypal and thought what the hell.

The tricky part was which book. Initially I thought Step Zero, but that's too long. Then I thought Victor Mothershead, but that's Book 4 in the Step Zero series.

Then I thought Dementia Blues, my best selling book of the 15 books I've produced. I glanced through the epub before I submitted it and thought, "This is actually pretty good. It holds up."

So I uploaded it to the contest.

But you know I ain't going to win.

But you all can.

Download Dementia Blues

Above (and at the end of this post) is the epub edition of Dementia Blues by me, Stu Jenks. Designed by Gail Cross with the photographs and everything. It's a sad but sweet book. I think you'll like it.

And even though the chances of me winning this book contest are slim to none, you can win a free book right now. Pretty sweet, eh?

Love you guys.

Keep your lamp trimmed and burning,

Stu.

Download Dementia Blues

P.S. Hidden track: I'll give away my last book Cherry Picking Leviticus too. What the heck. I'm in a generous mood. (If you feel like donating to the cause, my Paypal is [email protected]). Be safe out there.

Download Cherry Picking Leviticus by Stu Jenks

“Crane Day, Desert Agave, Arizona” © Stu Jenks 2021 [Extended Family Series]

“Crane Day, Desert Agave, Arizona” © Stu Jenks 2021, 52 inches tall.

Price: $150, shipping included. Simply contact me via my email address at [email protected] 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. Love y'all, Stu.

 

Crane was my friend.

He died in the fall of 2018 at the age of 81.

Here is a lovely article/obituary from Arizona Daily Star and here is a sweet YouTube video done by the Tucson Weekly of the man in his studio.

Crane's studio was just down the hall from mine. When I came over in the early 2000's from the Toole Shed, Crane couldn't have been more welcoming. We would laugh often and cry sometimes. We would watch Survivor in his studio every week with a number of his closest friends. We would shake our heads at the crazy politics of the time. We would help each other out in little ways.

But what I really miss is his hugs. He was the best hugger. He would grab me and pull me in tight and squeeze me hard as I squeezed him back. He would make a little sound when he hugged me. It was great. Sometimes I would joke, "Jeez, Crane, you keep hugging me like that and I'll turn gay for you." He would laugh every time I said that silly joke.

Also, he had the altar at his home that probably had 50 to 100 prayer cards on it, each personally made by him, with fine calligraphy, for anyone who needed a little help from the Great Almighty. He made them for my sister, for my mother, and for my wife at different times. I still have one of those cards that he made for my sister before she died.

In an odd way, Crane might have saved my life. Instead of going to Gabby Giffords' Safeway Grocery Store outdoor meetup on Jan. 8th, 2011, I went to visit Crane in the hospital instead. When I arrived at his room at Northwest Hospital, she had been shoot just moments before. I was ambivalent about going to see Gabby truly, hadn't really made up my mind, but decided it was more important to go see my friend in the hospital that to shake Gabby's hand. In an profound way, I'm lucky Crane got sick.

He was the greatest guy, an amazing artist, a wonderful human being. He proved that you can be a fantastic artist and be a fantastic person, all at the same time.

I miss him. A lot.

A scarf that he wove hangs in my bedroom above my bed. If Crane's spirit is out and about, I know he is looking down on me and on many others, with small prayer cards in one hand, a twinkle in his eye, and that sweet smile on his face.

I miss you, brother.

May God's love always shine on your spirit.

I don't think I even need to ask God for that. He's been doing that for you for years. For me too. For all of us I suppose. I sure hope so.

Give God a hug for me.

#craneday, #stujenks, #extendedfamilyseries.

 

"Tumamoc Hill Flame Spiral" (c) 2007, 2021 Stu Jenks

December 21st, 2007: The Night of the Winter Solstice

The Mount Lemmon Road was closed at the base. Too much snow for travel to the top for anyone other than residents of Summerhaven. I wasn’t happy about that but I wasn’t that mad either. OK, a little angry maybe, for I do prefer to pray at Solstice Rock on this day and I knew I could make up there in my four-by-four truck, but it’s really only important to me that I pray on Solstice Rock.

God doesn’t care where I am when I do my Big Prayer. Actually, my God doesn’t care if I pray at all. He’s that loving of a guy. So I trusted my gut and headed to Tumamoc instead. It’s around 7 p.m. now. It’s dark up here at the summit but bright as Christmas below. The view from Tumamoc Hill to the East is of the whole Tucson Valley. Tumamoc is literally in the center of the city, a protected nature preserve, two miles east of downtown.

Lights are on in the nearby skyscrapers. I’m guessing that immigrant cleaning crews are emptying the trash on this Friday before Christmas. Semis with red and yellow running lights roar along the Interstate below me. The street grids can easily be seen— Broadway and 22nd Street, even the diagonal Aviation Parkway. Thousands of sepia brown streetlights twinkle below, like an old photograph of a Christmas tree.

The Big Prayer is for Open-Heartedness this year. Unlike other years, I started with myself. I usually end with asking God to hear my personal prayer, but I am pretty annoyed with not being able to get up to Solstice Rock. This then brings up anger and disappointment regarding some friends then some frustration with my family at Christmas Time, and before I know it, I’m not walking up Tumamoc anymore. I’m living in the blind illusion of my own expectations, judgments and thoughts. I become aware of my own insanity about halfway up Tumamoc and say loudly, “God, help me be Open-Hearted to them!” I smile. By the time I reach the summit I have prayed for Open-Heartedness for everyone that I can think of. For Cathy, for many other good friends, for my mother and sister, for some strangers who live just over there, and for the Universe itself.

An Open-Hearted Universe. I’d like that.

I don’t want to leave. It’s so beautiful up here tonight. I take a deep breath and smile. Just a bit longer. The wind picks up, chilling me through my polar fleece. I pull down my Boo Boo hat to warm my ears. I breathe in deeply again. The smell of creosote and mesquite is in the wind, a scent created by yesterday’s rain. The Catalina Mountains loom to the north, capped with new snow. I feel very blessed. Very rich, with little cash in my pocket. Very loved, with no loved ones close by. Very fulfilled, with no personal accomplishments near me.

Time to go. Cathy and I are going to do a bit of Christmas tonight, since I’ll be in Virginia for the holidays. Hope she likes the photograph of Laxmii I made for her. I stand, blow Tucson a big kiss, and head down the hill to my truck.

From my book Flame Spirals: Journeys Through Nocturnal Photography.

 

 

#flamespirals, #stujenks, #tucson, #spirals, #nightphotography

“Susan Tiss, Red Oak Wood, North Carolina” © Stu Jenks 2021 [Extended Family Series]

“Susan Tiss, Red Oak Wood, North Carolina” © 2021 Stu Jenks, 56 inches tall.

Price: $195, shipping included. Simply contact me via my email address at [email protected] 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. Love y'all, Stu.

 

Susan is a major woman-about-town in Tucson, Arizona, even though she's too humble to admit it. She has been involved with Tucson's All Souls Procession since its humble beginnings, being one of the first photographers to document it. She has been a patron of the arts in many ways, from the giving of her time to buying us creative folks' work. She is smart, kind, funny and sweet. Susan has lived through her own life challenges and has come out the other side, still hopeful yet wiser because of it. When I think of the Tucson Art Scene, the late Crane Day first comes to mind, and the second person is Susan Tiss.

Much love, sweetheart. Kiss the dog for me. And thanks for writing the foreword to Step Zero: The Special Illustrated Edition. I just reread your intro and it made me cry. It's a wonderful thing when a friend gets what I'm trying to do.

 

(Susan's foreword is at the bottom of this post. And you can buy Step Zero, and my other books, wherever you buy your books and ebooks.)

Foreword for The Special Illustrated Edition of Step Zero

Stu is my friend.

You might be thinking that I bought the original release of Step Zero in 2012 because Stu is my friend. You might be thinking that I’m recommending you read it because Stu is my friend. You are not wrong, but, as with the best of things, that isn’t even close to the whole story.

When a friend tells you that they’ve written a novel, you buy the novel because you want to support them, because you care about them, because they are your friend. Then, perhaps, you put that novel on a shelf and have a long debate with yourself about reading it. What if it isn’t good? What if they ask you how you liked it? Wouldn’t it just be better to tell them you haven’t had a chance to read it yet?

The thing is, I’m a reader and a book can’t sit on one of my shelves for long without being read. So, not too many weeks after buying a copy of Step Zero, on a quiet afternoon at home, I opened it up and started to read. Some hours later, the sun was setting, the dog was staring me down demanding a walk, and I was ready to cancel my plans for the rest of the weekend so that I could try to finish the book.

As a kid, I used to spend hours sitting under a tree, or in a big lawn chair, or sprawled on the grass, reading until it was too dark to see. On family road trips my dad would plead with me to put the books away and look at the scenery flying by the car window, but I wanted nothing more than to get lost in the internal scenery I created around a good story. As an adult, I don’t get the opportunity often to do this, but every once in a while, I find a story that is so good that I just have to stop the clocks for a bit and immerse myself in someone else’s world.

Step Zero is that good a story.

It is good because it is rich with deeply believable characters and relationships.

It is good because there is magic in the way Stu writes these people into life.

You can hear their voices in your head: talking, singing, crying, laughing, and telling their own stories.

You can’t help but care about them.

You can’t help but want them to learn and love and live.

You can’t help but want to know what happens next.

Susan K. Tiss
Program Manager,
Knowledge Management
Intuit. Inc.
Tucson Arizona
April, 2015.

 

#susantiss, #stujenks, #extendedfamilyseries, #stepzero

The Extended Family Series wall pieces are now for sale! (Shipping cost included in the prices of all the art work)

“Vollis Simpson, Red Oak, North Carolina”, 63 inches tall. © Stu Jenks 2021

The Extended Family Series wall pieces are now for sale!

Shipping is included in the sale price of all art work. I know they are pricey, but due to the odd shape of the boxes, shipping is expensive.

All pieces are signed, dated and titled. Some can be used as walking sticks but most are wall pieces that can be easily hung from a wall. These art pieces represents people who are important to me: traditional extended family members, close and not-so-close friends, and people I love and admire, both living and dead, fictional and real.

Just scroll through my site to see the work, or go to the Categories listed off to the left. Look for the group entitled 'Extended Family Series.'

I really want this work to find homes. I also hope to show these pieces in galleries and museums in the future, but that's up in the air right now, due to COVID and such. Mostly I want to sell and mail these to good people who will be happy to have them hanging in their homes.

In this post, I've put up a small sampling of the work. I've produced over a 100 of these guys. This is just to give you a taste.

Thanks, y'all, for your love and financial support. I appreciate you more than you know. You help put gas in my truck, food on our table and a roof over our heads. You really do.

And you also put a smile on my face. That ain't nothing either.

Love and light, Stu.

Detail of “Gandalf, Hornbeam Wood, North Carolina” 61 inches tall, (c) Stu Jenks 2018.

 

 

“Frederick Douglass, Saguaro Rib, Arizona” 86 inches tall, © Stu Jenks 2020

 

 

“Stacey Abrams, Hornbeam Wood, Virginia-North Carolina State Line” 57 inches tall, (c) Stu Jenks 2021

 

 

“Legs For Days (Alexa Jenks), Aspen Wood, Arizona” 58 inches tall” © Stu Jenks 2020

 

“Norman Smith, Saguaro Ribs, Arizona” (c) Stu Jenks 2019

 

“Amanda Gorman, Beech Wood, North Carolina” 56 inches tall. (c) Stu Jenks 2021

 

“Gay Smith, Aspen Wood, Arizona” 59 inches tall. © Stu Jenks 2020

 

“Abraham Lincoln, Saguaro Rib, Arizona” 48 inches tall, © Stu Jenks 2020

 

 

“Dennis The Homeless Man, Desert Agave, Arizona” 59 inches tall. © Stu Jenks 2019

 

 

“Malcolm X, Saguaro Rib, Arizona” © Stu Jenks 2020, 54 inches tall.

 

 

“Galadriel/Cate Blanchett, Tulip Poplar, Virginia” © Stu Jenks 2021, 66 inches tall.

 

 

“Dean Smith, Ash Wood, North Carolina” © Stu Jenks 2021, 39 inches tall.

 

"Disabled Man At The Bakery, Tucson, Arizona" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks.

"Disabled Man At The Bakery, Tucson, Arizona" (c) 2021 Stu Jenks.

I generally don't do a lot of street photography, respecting the privacy of the poor, but in this image, his face is hidden, so probably only his closest friends would recognize him.

There are so many low wealth people in America, the richest country in the world. Rich for a few. Poor for oh so many.

I'm not really poor but I am putting off buying new eye glasses because I can afford them right now. I would say I'm low wealth though, which is basically the same thing.

My prayers go out to this man. I hope his toe feels better. I hope his life gets better.

 

 

All images on this website can be printed by me on my archival printer, using archival paper, then signed, boarded, glassine-bagged, then mailed to you

8 1/2 by 11s are $45, plus S & H. 13 x 19s are $95, plus S & H. (Image rights are also for sale. Cost of those are specific to the client and the job.) Shipping runs between $10 and $20.

Contact me via email at [email protected], or through Facebook Messenger, if you want to buy something. Stay safe. Love y’all.

“Dr. Anthony Lucas, Crab Apple Tree Wood, North Carolina” (c) 2021 Stu Jenks [Extended Family Series]

“Dr. Anthony Lucas, Crab Apple Tree Wood, 53 inches tall, North Carolina” 53 inches tall, (c) 2021 Stu Jenks

Price: $195, shipping included in the price. Simply contact me via my email address at [email protected] 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. Love y'all, Stu.

 

Tony is my friend.

He is also a talented anesthesiologist in Tucson, Arizona. Tony found me the amazing surgeon Dr. Juan Chipollini who did my radical prostatectomy surgery in 2020. Even though Tony is very busy, we still try and text each other once a month or so. Tony has just been hammered since COVID began in March of 2020, but he is well as is his extended family. 

I can tell a number of good Tony stories, but I'll just tell this one.

My surgery had been scheduled before COVID started, but we didn't want to push it back, because my prostate cancer was so severe. Tony was going to get one of his team members to be my anesthesiologist but with COVID, that didn't work out. So on the morning of my surgery, whose smiling eyes behind a mask did I see but Tony's. As he put me under, he asked if I wanted to pray. I sure did. We prayed together. After surgery, he was the second person to tell me, after Dr. Chipollini, that the surgery went amazingly well. Clear margins and everything. And in the weeks after, he made sure I was OK, supplying me with numbing cream for my painful privates, and funny stories to help me heal.

Providence, the grace of God or just good luck? Who knows. But I'm blessed to have had him as my anesthesiologist on April 28th, 2020. And I'm continually thankful that he is my friend.

#drtonylucas, #stujenks, #extendedfamilyseries

The Colorado River School by Stu Jenks.

"The Ghost, Navajo Rez, Arizona: Colorado River School" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

 

The Colorado River School by Stu Jenks (c) July, 2020.

Pictorialist photography was a turn-of-the-20th-century movement where some photographers wanted to be in more museums, to be taken more seriously, and to be seen as artists in and of themselves, up there with painters, sculptors, printmakers, etc., using very soft focus and adding colors to the black and whites to express emotion and mood. It was a thing for a while.

It was a thing for a while with me too, using an old Brownie camera with a softening plastic lens in the early 2000's, printing black and white negs on color paper. Also in the 2010's, I used a painterly add-on in my Photoshop to make images look old and painterly.

And a week ago while hiking in the Sierra Anchas Mountains, it became a thing again, with my SLR and my killer 70-200mm lens. I saw, in my mind's eye, images with soft focus and exaggerated colors, not razor sharp but dreamy like those old Brownies of mine. Lucking I remembered a thing I can do in the RAW image section of Photoshop to make this happen. And a couple of other tricks I have too.

Three days ago, I was up at the Grand Canyon shooting stock. Again, in my mind's eye, looking into that great big hole in the ground I imagined a softer image, with lots of color that wasn't there, lots of feeling that wasn't in my initial gaze, a mystery I would like to see outside of my head and away from the Canyon.

And I thought of the Hudson River School.

That was a nineteenth-century movement in American painting that featured the landscape as a pastoral setting, a place where man and nature lived in harmony. It was a fantasy, but a nice dream, using extreme colors and fine composition to create a mood of peace. Thomas Cole is seen as its founder but other painters like Frederic Church, Albert Bierstadt, Asher Durand, and Susie Barstow were also prominent. Cole's work at the National Gallery in Washington has moved me often in my journeys there, particularly his Voyage of Life. These artists were not plein air artists, painting outdoors, using nature as a firm template. They mixed and matched ideas, creating landscapes out of whole cloth, taking a little of this mountain and a little of that river, then maybe throwing in a house or a human. They were not painting what was exactly in front of them. They were trying to make a point but also trying to make magic. When I've seen these enormous canvases in real life, they've awed me, made me speechless, which for those of you know know me, is not any easy thing to do.

So staring at the Grand Canyon, I saw a loose template for me to create something emotional, soft, colorful and new, or at least new to me.

[Art Critique: I looked up Hudson River School of Photography on the internet and found a group of dudes. Bros really. They were taking their landscape shots, sharpening the shit of them with HDR and who knows fucking what and they all seemed very proud of themselves. That's a bit unfair, and for those of you photogs who see yourself in this artistic vane and are humble about it I apologize. But these guys really like what they are doing, which is nothing new or meaning at all in my eyes. Sharp as a razor images with slighted popped color and no soul. BFD. You see this a lot in photography these days. Bottom line: This ain't Hudson River School. This is Bro River School. End of critique.]

However...

I like the idea of the true old intention of the Hudson River School (and if you ain't got intention in your art making, you ain't making art. Sorry bro.) But I can't use Hudson River School in the names of my photographs because of these guys. So I thought Santa Cruz River School, named after the mostly-dry river in Tucson. Nah. Don't feel right.

Then I remembered what I thought at the Canyon. I was standing, shooting and praying at Lipan Point, one of my most powerful spiritual and artistic spots on the planet, which I've visited dozens of times over the decades. I looked down at the Colorado River as it made the big turn, coming down from the north then flowing west and I thought, "Colorado River School. I like that. But it's a bit pretentious."

Two days later, I got over that. It's a nice name.

Colorado River School it is.

So off we go. Hope you dig the magic I'm trying to make here. Often times I fail, but from time to time, it works.

One thing I learned in Art School at Carolina from Mike Cindric is we need to keep making stuff, throwing pots, making sculpture, painting paintings, shooting photographs, weaving tapestries, writing books, singing songs, etc.. Keep at it. Don't stop. If you're going to be a successful artist, you make stuff everyday. It's the job. A good job emotionally and spiritually, perhaps financially not so much at times, but it's good work. Really good work. And from the work comes results. Just like from any other kind of committed effort. Eventually you make The Good Shit.

When in art critiques at Carolina, when I made something that was successful, Cindric and the other students would say, "It works."

True in 1977. True in 2020.

I pray these pieces work too. Sometimes they will. Sometimes they won't. But I'll keep making the stuff. Everyday.

And hoping to make for The Good Shit.

 

 

"Lipan Point, Grand Canyon, Arizona: Colorado River School" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

 

 

"The Colorado River, Grand Canyon, Arizona: Colorado River School" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

 

 

"The Kaibab Trail, Grand Canyon, Arizona: Colorado River School" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

 

 

"Vishnu Temple, Grand Canyon, Arizona: Colorado River School" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

 

 

"Montezuma Pass, Arizona/Sonora, USA/Mexico Border: Colorado River School" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

 

 

"Sierra Ancha Mountains, Arizona: Colorado River School" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

 

 

Images from the final months of the Trump Administration.

"Alexa At The Bunny House, the foothills of the Tucson Mountains, Arizona" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

Yes, it's 4 months before the November election but it's a lock that Trump will no be reelected. I can hear some say "Don't jinx it. We said that about Hillary." Well, many independents disliked Hillary and didn't come out to vote. Now a ton of Democratic-leaning Independents hate Trump even worse than Clinton, and they will show up to end this horrible shit show that is the Trump Administration. And tens of 1000's of young people will be voting too, just like they did in 2018.

Most people look at my Facebook page for photos and info about me, maybe a few look at my Twitter feed, but hardly anyone I know comes here to my blog. That's OK, but I'm going to leave a large Easter egg here and I'm going to see if anyone notices.

In mid-August, I'm moving back to Greensboro, North Carolina, to hopefully find work there and to live the rest of my life with my lovely wife Alexa. All I need to do is find part-time work. I'll be OK.

And I miss Alexa like the Dickens.

My recovery from my radical prostatectomy surgery has been slow but moving forward. Still pain in my groin and sexual functioning is every so slowly returning but it is coming back a bit. The cancer is all gone and I can pretty much hold my piss and shit. That last sentence is a big fucking deal. Many men do not have that result after surgery. I do. I'm grateful.

So before I leave Arizona, here are some photos from the last few months: some good, some mundane, but all heartfelt.

And I'll see who text me, emails me or Facebook messages me and says, "Dude, you're moving? Man, we will miss you, but do what you gotta do."

I am. I need to go home and be with my wife.

Hugs, kisses and deep gratitude, y'all.

Stu

 

"The Bighorn Fire, Tucson, Arizona" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

It's mid July and the Bighorn Fire is finally out. We think. It burned all over the Catalina Mountains for what? Six weeks? While the Covid-19 spread so did the fire. It was a bit much after a while. Everything right now is a bit much for many of us.

 

 

"Kestral Hawk In Flight, The Bunny House, foothills of the Tucson Mountains, Arizona" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

 

 

"The Ghost at Coalmine Canyon, Navajo Rez, Arizona" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

I may never see this place again. Been coming here for 33 years. And even though I'm sad, this canyon has given me so many things, physical, emotional, and spiritual. Big kiss, Coalmine.

 

 

"Pamela's Baby Rocking Chair (The PBRC), Coalmine Canyon, Navajo Rez, Arizona" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

 

"The Road Past Nipple Butte, Navajo Rez, Arizona" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

Going to have the sell the Buick for scrap before I leave Arizona. It has a value lifter problem and the car is only worth $1000 at best, with 415,000 miles on it, and the repair would cost over $2000. Luckily, I have the old Pathfinder with a new clutch and a new-ish front end. Strong engine too. 'Spirals' on its license plate. I will be styling when I get to NC. Even the good-old-boys will respect an old truck like mine but the Arizona tags may make them a little suspicious.

 

 

"The PBRC, Coconino Forest, Arizona" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

This particular juniper tree I have been visiting for over 30 years. Have harvested its boughs for incense more than once. It's an old but very fragrant tree. I'll miss you buckaroo, but I'm taking some of you with me.

 

 

"The PBRC, Washington Monument, D.C." (c) 2016, 2020 Stu Jenks.

Obelisk!!! (Inside family joke.)

 

"The PBRC, Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

 

 

"The PBRC (Black and Red Lives Matter), Gray Mountain, Arizona" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

 

 

"The PBRC, Foothills Apartments, Tucson, Arizona" (c) 2016, 2020 Stu Jenks.

 

 

"Spiral In The Ironwood Forest, Arizona" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

 

 

"Virga Near Sonoita, Arizona" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

 

 

"Three Months Before Dad Died, St. Mary's Whitechapel Episcopal Church, Lively, Virginia" (c) 2001, 2020 Stu Jenks.

 

 

"Merlin's Cave, Southwest England" (c) 2013, 2020 Stu Jenks.

 

 

"Cast of Richard III, Meredith College, Raleigh, North Carolina, Summer of 1973" (c) Photographer unknown.

The first play I acted in, a couple months before I went off to UNC-Chapel Hill. In the Raleigh News and Observer, in their review of the play, I was mentioned positively in my role as Lord Dorset. That one sentence in the paper propelled me to a career in the Arts. I'm not kidding. All the photographs, music, books, projects, installations, etc., point back to that one role in Raleigh in 1973 and that one tiny bit of encouragement.

Yep. Fucked me up pretty bad. (That's a joke. Sorta.)

 

 

"Dawn Fog at Monument Valley, Navajo Reservation, Arizona/Utah" (c) 2011, 2020 Stu Jenks.

 

 

"Hoop Dance At The Green House, Uwharrie Forest, Randolph County, North Carolina" (c) 2019, 2020 Stu Jenks.

Baby, I'm coming home to you.

 

Images from the time of the Coronavirus

Been a little behind on getting recent images up on my website, with my pending prostate surgery pre-op stuff, my recent employment and money challenges due to the Coronavirus, and I'm missing the living crap out of my wife too, but that's no excuse really. I just haven't made the time to upload until now.

So on this Easter Sunday, here are some images from the past few weeks. And as always, prints and images rights are for sale.

Much love to you all. Stay home, stay safe and be well.

Love, Stu.

"Red-Tailed Hawk & The Full Moon, Oracle, Arizona" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

"Abandoned Factory, Hiatt & South Lindell Street, Greensboro, North Carolina" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

"Green Doors, Lowell, Arizona" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

"Abandoned Shell Station, Lowell, Arizona" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

"Beware The Ides Of March Spiral, Tohono O'Odham Reservation, Arizona" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

"The Sun & The Moon Pictograph, Cochise Stronghold, Arizona" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

"Manzanita Flowers, Cochise Stronghold, Arizona" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

"Pamela's Baby Rocking Chair, Tehachapi Loop. California (New Version)" (c) Stu Jenks 2020.

"Two Billion Year Old Rocks, Grand Canyon National Park, Arizona (New Version)" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

"December Lightning, Road to Sonoita, Arizona (New Version)" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

"A White Sycamore Tree From Above, Cathy's Fault, Arizona" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

"The Virgin Mary, The Church Of The Immaculate Conception, Nogales, Sonora, Mexico" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

"St. Barnabas, Holy Trinity Episcopal Church, Greensboro, North Carolina" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

"The Road To Magdelena, Sonora, Mexico (New Version)" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

"A Grave Decorated In The Topowa Cemetery, Tohono O'Odham Reservation, Arizona" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

"Topowa Crosses, Tohono O'Odham Reservation, Arizona" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

"A Milagro On A Wooden Cross On The Old Sonoita Highway, Arizona" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

"Norman Smith, Saguaro Ribs, Arizona" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.

This wall piece and other walking-stick-inspired pieces are part of an ongoing series called 'The Extended Family'. Along with these sculptures, I have more traditional walking sticks for sale for $80, made from aspen, saguaro, agave and other natural materials. Just send me a email and I can shoot you some jpegs of what is currently in stock. And I will ship.

"Abandoned Ranch Building, Tohono O'Odham Reservation, Arizona" (c) 2020 Stu Jenks.