Introducing a new partnership!
I’m so pleased to have met gallery director, Amy Kitchin, at the Stockley Gardens Art Festival recently. I felt an instant “friends material” vibe from her and was knew I could trust her completely when she asked to represent me.
The collection is on view now. If you’re in the Virginia Beach community, please go visit in person. She has curated a gorgeous gallery that is a must see!
If you’re not in the area, you can view and purchase select works by tapping here:
https://stravitzartgallery.com/product-category/fine-art/artist/misty-kelischek/
Reliqueries and the Brasstown Carvers
Friends, I am 10 months pregnant with the overdue idea of incorporating my current body of work and my Appalachian interpretation of reliquaries.
My first step will be working toward becoming an official Brasstown Carver and then moving forward in mastering old reliquary making techniques with some of the most delightfully earthy and tedious processes I’ve ever seen.
There is nothing more intoxicating than the anticipation of a new relationship!
Here’s a link to The Bitter Southerner’s article written by none other than Robert Grand, that gives some insight into who the Brasstown Carvers are:
Show Season has concluded.
I realize I haven’t updated the blog since June.
I guess it’s because summer is my favorite season and I was just too busy having fun. I was also occupied by show prep and learning how to make it through one.
And thankfully, I made it though them all and came out better for it on the other side. I know now that I need to scale back my travel radius until we can swing a larger vehicle since my little Rav4 can’t hold anything more than the essentials. A big part of the fun is bringing my family along and I really missed that this year.
I’ve made a lot of progress and am looking forward to next year’s shows!
This is me on my way home from Norfolk, VA, which was my last show of the season. As you can see, the car is still packed pretty full. This was after I had sold most of my inventory and left even more with Stravitz Gallery.
Not pictured are the four tent bags strapped to the luggage rack. They do make a powerful whistle all the way home that a podcast and earbuds fail to dull.
Juggling Act
For the past few months, I have transformed into a person obsessed with the study of the art fair world.
I have applied to the following this year:
Artisphere - Not invited
Atlanta Dogwood - Not invited
4 Bridges Art Festival - Invited and Participated
Bethesda Fine Arts - Not invited
Marietta Art in the Park - Invited
Bethesda Row - Pending
Columbus Winterfair - Pending
Stockley Gardens - Pending
John C. Campbell Fall Festival - Invited
Atalaya - Pending
ArtXtravaganza - Pending
I haven’t been so focused on growing my talent and subsequent business since my early days in the salon.
I have heard art success stories from friends and cannot wait to dip my toes into the success water.
Seriously though, this part of the journey is very difficult. My teacher’s salary is being spread very thin as I move along this road. Things are tight!!!
My kid asked me how this is different than gambling and I didn't have a good response to that. I suppose there’s less second-hand smoke and way more quiet time.
Thank you for taking the journey with me!
Back in the Studio! Whoop!!
In your life as a teacher, do you ever think that you lose a little bit of your life force with every 6 AM alarm? Do you ever wonder if you really are the terrible person your students say you are while crying and gnashing their teeth? Do you ever question your need to own a house each time the vice president of the college needs to talk to you about a student’s lost notebook?
No?
Nah, me either.
Having said that, I would like to announce that I am officially on summer break. This is the most beautiful time of the year because my child is still in school and he doesn’t know that I don’t have to be at work for the next three weeks.
And what a prolific three weeks it’s gonna be! I am trying to set the lofty goal of cranking out a painting a day. How’s that going for me right now? Well, no painting yet but it’s not even lunch time. And speaking of lunch, I think I’ll stock the freezer with frozen pizzas. Anywho, I do have two paintings from earlier this week that I am dang proud of.
In these next three weeks, I plan to neglect my need for a personal hygiene and nutritious food in lieu of getting to do whatever the hell I want to. And what I want to do is paint, paint, paint!
My 1st Fine-Art Fair
My dear friend, Lauren deSerres, has been my biggest supporter as I try to grow my art business. She’s a veteran and a whiz at navigating the Fine-art festival world and has helped me every step along the way to understand the culture and unique requirements of art festivals.
Since I still work full time as a teacher, I’ve decided to take it one slow step at a time. I’m excited to announce that I will be showing for the 1st time in Chattanooga, TN at their annual 4 Bridges Art Festival! The prep leading up to this event is more that I ever knew it could be and gives me a new deep well of appreciation for every vendor I’ve ever looked past at these events. It’s a lot!
Here are the details:
Saturday, April 22- Sunday, April 23, 2023
An essential part of Chattanooga’s creative capital, 4 Bridges Arts Festival (4BAF) will return April 22-23, 2023. The 4 Bridges Arts Festival has cultivated and inspired an appreciation for the visual arts by bringing in artists from around the country to interact with our local community and display and sell their work. The highly-anticipated 4BAF is a juried art show that attracts visual artists from across the country, and has been ranked in the top 30 fine art festivals in country. The festival showcases the distinctive talents of 145 artists and offer $20,000+ in cash awards.
Event Details:
April 22-23, 2023 — 10 AM - 5 PM
First Horizon Pavilion: 1826 Reggie White Blvd
$5 entry (purchase at the gate); students & children under 18 free
If you can, please come. If you cannot, please share the event with anyone who will listen. The artists you know and those you don’t will be grateful to you for the exposure.
Hope to see you there!
As I sit here tonight…
As I sit here tonight, well past bedtime, I realize that I’m once again counting down the hours until I can paint.
I’ve got 2 more days filled with eager learners, the best co-workers and packed lunches.
Just 2 more long days……..
And then, Oliver
As couples do, it wasn’t long until we learned that we were expecting a baby. That brings me to the topic of Oliver. He’s already 8 years old and he has been pure delight. There’s nothing like having a child in your life as a source of wonder and inspiration.
Transferable Skills
I have spent a lot of time sitting with imposter syndrome. I’ve allowed myself to believe that I wasn’t a “real artist” because I did not get an art degree from a traditional university.
Lately, it has become clear to me that this is far from the truth. The more artists that I get to know, the more I hear stories about them resenting their formal art education. Many of them report that art school didn’t serve them in the ways that they had hoped for. They felt like they went deeply into debt and spent a lot of money creating something that their heart was not in. Sure, they developed some technical skill but weren’t sure that it was actually a necessary step to get them toward the end goal of being a working artist.
That’s when I realized that during my entire career, I had been accumulating a reserve of transferable skills. I have a deep well of knowledge around form, texture & color. It seems very obvious to me now but it took me a while to realize that the years I had spent as a successful make-up artist was transferable toward painterly things.
Just recently, I did a large painting of a rabbit. The entire time I vacillated between panic, self-doubt and a reassurance that this was just another make-up application. The results were beautiful and confirmed my belief that my hard earned, transferable skills serve me as well as a formal art education might have.
Photographed by Nathan Baerreis
Plenitude
Sometimes, the world feels shimmery, bright and full of possibilities. Sometimes, it feels like the opposite.
Being aware of these times of plenty and scarcity, for myself and others, is a way to remain grounded.
“For most, however, there was minor luxury, and a plenitude of necessities.” John Lord
St. Nicholas
Remember those potlucks I discussed in an earlier post? Well, that’s how I was introduced to Nick. Long story short: we shared food, beer, laughs and then decided to get married.
What came next?
I soon found myself faced with the same struggle as most artists. The struggle of survival versus complete surrender to the arts.
As it turned out, there was a small community college just a few miles from my home. They generously offered me a cosmetology teaching position that has held me aloft while I continue to navigate the changes that have and continue to come. (Think marriage, step-parenting, actual parenting, caring for aging family, etc)
I have had an on again/off again relationship with this college. I’m grateful for the stability and for the chance to do something nice for my community.
Still, the art is calling…….
While We Are Together
“Let union be in all our hearts. Let all our hearts be joined as one.”
That’s a line from our Church of Brasstown hymnal. (I promise we are not a cult, we just joke about it.)
It is always led by our friend and neighbor, Robert Forsyth, whenever we gather for a special meal, wedding or other celebration. My son says it makes him feel as happy as a Christmas song and I tend to agree.
I have plenty of complaints about my community at large. My close-knit community, a.k.a. chosen family, is what keeps me here.
I was thinking of them as I created this piece, each gathered in a semi-circle, glowing brightly.
“We’ll end the day as we begun. We’ll end it all in pleasure.”
“While We Are Together” 18’ x 24’ Oil and Metal Leaf on Canvas
Brasstown
It all begins with an idea.
Maybe you’ve heard of Brasstown, NC. We are famous for our legendary New Years Eve “Possum Drop”. I’ll leave it up to you to Google that.
We are also home to the John C. Campbell Folk School, which is what lured me here.
The call to come home started out as a whisper. I thought I could stomach leaving my sophisticated life now and then for the sake of art in the Folk School bubble. I began to take classes once or twice per year. It had been 15 years since I’d walked though the mist listening to birdsongs. It felt good to be back. Delightfully, the paths there led me to gorgeous meals and state-of-the-art studios. This, I could do!
I started to notice that the Folk School not only offered me an artistic-retreat vacation, it also gave me language to re-define who I was as a child of Appalachia. I began to hear the old-time music with new ears and I felt a sense of pride replacing my need to hide my upbringing.
At the conclusion of a class in 2008, I stayed while the campus emptied. I walked the trails one last time before the drive home and landed on Olive Campbell’s front porch. I sat in the place she must have all those years ago and I swear that a metaphysical root grew from my spine into the earth. That was when I knew that the change must come and it wasn’t waiting any longer.
Soon after that morning of the 2008 presidential election, I was gifted with a group of soulmates. We had all arrived in much the same way, knowing that it was time to shift focus, grow into our truer potential and create our art.
So between cups of wine and potluck dinners, we did just that.
From left to right – Donna, me, Gale and Julie.
Deity
Isn’t life just a constant cycle of figuring stuff out over and over again or is that just me?
When this country mouse got to Asheville, she had a ton of figuring out to do.
This painting is about that sort of introverted dissection of social norms. I imagine myself as the viewer watching the crowd from a safe distance, trying to figure out that all the fuss is about.
Why do we follow the leaders and trends that we do even when it isn’t in our best interests?
“Deity” 36’ x 48” Oil and Gold Leaf on Canvas
Asheville
It all begins with an idea.
With the help of my older sister, I moved to Asheville, NC in 1996. I set out to find a job as a cosmetologist and began to build what became a very successful career.
My hairstyling business took off. My skill set was solid and I was completely in charge of my own income. I chose who sat in my chair. I had a list of people waiting for me, which allowed me to let go of clients that stressed me out. I could buy whatever I wanted and it was common to find a long-forgotten $20 bill in the pocket of whatever outfit I was wearing that day.
I worked with an AMAZING team of like-minded artists. We loved ourselves and we loved each other. We held each other up, were a source of inspiration to one another and chose to be together outside of work hours.
We ate breakfast, lunch and often dinner together and couldn’t wait to repeat it the next day.
I stayed until 2008. I don’t want to talk about the catalyst that made that life less sustainable, just know that it happened.
One day, I stepped outside my Asheville home onto chemically charred grass to find that my fledgling bluebirds had not left the nest because they had died. Although the privacy panel to my right kept the people in the parking lot that bordered my yard from seeing me cry, I could hear them. I could hear the hum of the nearby traffic too. In that moment, with the dead spikes pressing into my bare feet, something in me broke. That house no longer represented a coveted, quick commute to downtown. It transformed into a fishbowl of poisoned water that was choking me.
So, I left. I sold most of my things and drove my u-Haul to my newly-discovered refuge: the Folk School community of Brasstown, NC. The next morning, I made myself a cup of coffee and stepped out into the fog. I could hear the crows as I walked to the car. I turned the key to the ignition and learned via the radio that Barack Obama had been elected as our first African-American president.
My second Folk School class with Marcy Chapman. I was so pleased to have this photograph mailed to me from their staff and find myself pictured in the following catalog!
Consensual
The topic of consent is on the tongues of almost everyone these days.
As someone who is prone to reflection, this topic has remained in my mind. This is what my idea of a consensual world would look like. We would approach one another with a softness that creates symbiosis. We would be considerate and protective.
In this state of grace, we would lift one another up to reach their highest and best purpose.
“Consensual” 8’x8’ Oil and Metal Leaf on Canvas
I started my life as a child….
It all begins with an idea.
I’m 47, so I’ll let you do the math. Add to that another 20 years and hold that era in your mind as I tell this story.
I grew up in rural Appalachia. We were not connected to cultures outside of our immediate community. Our television only worked in the winter months due to the dense vegetation of the region. You see, the antenna attached to the side our home struggled to get Channel 3 when there were no leaves on the trees. As soon as the first spring buds pop on the trees, you could forget that you were ever someone with the luxury of an electrical box that brought the outside world in.
Due to this isolation, our community stuck to the old ways. We grew our food and preserved it in the fall. We ate wild game at our meals alongside green beans and fresh biscuits. We had party-line telephones and wringer washing machines.
For entertainment, we played outside. We never questioned whether or not we belonged to the earth. She was us and we were her.
Now that I’m in my mid forties and look back on those times, I almost cry. They were so sweet & pure, yet so painful and full of longing. Those times are gone. I wonder if my own child will find the same resonance with nature that I do? Does that only come from living so closely alongside it?
When I was this little girl in the picture, I knew there was more out there. I grew older, I became determined to find out what waited outside of the village.
I did and I’ll write about that later.
It wasn’t until I was well into my thirties that I started to hear a quiet, distant call to come home. I was surprised to notice that my curiosity about life outside of a small town was starting to mingle with the need to put my bare feet in wet grass. Soon, I needed that like a frog drinking through my skin.
So, I came back.
Me, Circa 1980, with puppies.
Waiting for the Power
As you will come to learn, I have what I call “ecological anxiety”.
While wringing my hands over the sad helplessness of the massive Australian wildfires, we were experiencing monsoon rains in the jungles of Appalachia.
It seems too big to do anything about. If I could have shared rain with them, I would have. I felt overwhelmed by the unfairness of it all. Sea levels are rising while the world burns. It’s apocalyptic and yet, it’s happening.
So as I painted and wished we were collectively better stewards of this planet, our saturated ground let go of a tree, and we lost power.
Creating “Waiting on the Power” was the only that I could do in that moment.
Where I’m from……
Was I a late bloomer or have I lived 2 lives?
Photo by Nathan Baerreis
Recently, an acquaintance asked me “So, you’re from here?”.
Hadn’t that always been loud and clear? I have a southern accent, I know a thing or two about nature, and I don’t mind getting dirty. Seemed fairly obvious to me.
“Here” is Brasstown, 20 miles from my birthplace. I’m in the very tip on western North Carolina; 2 hours from Atlanta, Asheville and Knoxville. We are surrounded by farms, churches and auto parts stores. To say that we are lacking in diversity is an understatement.
What we do have is sweet, sweet nature. We don’t lack for clean streams and grassy fields for our children to explore. We don’t have to exercise in gyms.
The two main types of people here are:
1- Those who came to wrap themselves in fog, dense forests, fresh air and affordable living
2-Those who, by God, were born unto these mountains and ain’t going nowhere.
So, what the heck happened that caused me to no longer blend as a local? I’m going to be processing that and will write about it soon. Be sure to check back!
I tell you these things because I want you to understand my reasoning and esthetic. I haven’t found a lot of similar artists who incorporate aspects of nature into a piece of modern, abstract art. It’s kind of an anomaly, just like me.