Thursday, June 17, 2010

The aim of art is to represent the inward significance of things--Aristotle

"The aim of art is to represent not the outward appearance of things,

but their inward significance."


It seems like every January 1st and November 1st--my birthday--I reflect on my life, the direction it's taking, my goals, and I ask myself questions like:

Am I where I want to be?

Am I doing what I want to be doing?

What changes do I need to make in order to make each day more of what will make my heart dance?

Lately, I've been doing a lot of artful soul searching. My artful life began as a young girl, when I watched my mother weave hats out of dried leaves and sell them to the local sugar plantation workers. It continued as I watched her turn empty rice bags and tiny pieces of fabric scraps from her sisters' trash bins into Sunbonnet Sue quilt blocks. She reupholstered chairs discarded by neighbors and made beautiful curtains out of unwanted bed sheets. I learned to see the "potential" in seemingly insignificant things.

My mother's teachings must have gone directly to my heart because much of my mothering included lessons of potentiality--is that a word?--and thrifty living, and as a testament to the power of example, as a struggling young mother, I made my own set of ruffled curtains out of white bed sheets which I purchased from the thrift store for only $1.00 each. My patient husband allowed my three daughters and me the freedom to decorate our home in pink curtains, mauve rose stenciled borders and everything frilly. Hah!

Nothing is insignificant. Everything matters and is of value. Today, my art boldly reveals who I am, and in a quiet and significant way, it represents the inward significance of what makes me sing. My mother taught me to see the beauty in unwanted fabric pieces. She taught me to see how to transform a rusted, broken and unwanted kitchen chair into a functional piece of art. She taught me to see things with fresh eyes and without being influenced by their names or labels.

This is how I see . . .

This photo, manipulated in Photoshop . . .
and added to . . .

this photograph of one of my painted fabrics =

this digital image.

My mother taught me to see beauty, to see potential and to see without judgment. My mother taught me that everything is important. My mother taught me that everything matters.

My mother shows me that I am important. My mother shows me that she loves me. My mother taught me how to love.

Thanks, Ma!

My mother taught me how to dance. Art makes my heart dance.


Scrappy Cat said...

Your mother must be a very special person Fannie. Your image is beautiful.

WoolenSails said...

Your art really reflects the love of life that your mom taught you.


Beth Niquette said...

I found you via Morgan's art blog. I wanted to say I loved what you wrote and your artwork fills my eyes--which is the greatest compliment I can give.

Art makes me dance, too. To create is as necessary to me, as breathing...

Fannie said...

Hi, Cheryl. Yes, my mom is special. Thanks for stopping by.

Thanks, Debbie. Your visits and words make my heart dance. Thank you.

Nice to meet you, Beth, and welcome to my artful world. Say thanks to Morgan for sharing you with me. Thanks for taking the time to click those keys so I can hear your thoughts. You have paid me a beautiful compliment. Thank you. Yes, to create is as necessary as breathing . . . have a great weekend.

Brenda said...

Your mum sounds like the most amazing person. You were blessed to have a mother such as her. Hugs.

Fannie said...

Hey, Brenda. Good to see you. We are blessed, aren't we? Thanks for stopping by. ♥♫♥