I have been studying art as long as I can remember.
I began my studies while sitting at my great, great Granny Ferguson’s feet. She taught me of family and history. Her bent fingers taught me to sew, to make dolls and to find the beauty in the simplest things.
My other great grandmother, Mommaw Hager, taught me the art of flowers and how to grow a garden. Her yard was painted with a tapestry of colorful blooms that would have been a palace for any fairy.
My Granny Husband taught me the art of being a lady. No matter the situation, no matter the trials, she was always a lady.
I learned the art of cooking and making a house a home from Nanna, my father’s mother. She taught me the textures of breads and gravies and how to pour love into everything I did.
My mother’s mother, Mamaw Lindsay, taught me the art of strength and persistence. Her life was hard, but she always stood strong.
Pop, my father’s father taught me the art of stories. He filled my imagination with charming characters, exciting stories, and songs that told of things remembered. He also taught me the art of silence. Many times we sat on the porch and watched the rain drip off the long willow limbs and just listened to each other breathe.
My father taught me the art of nature. He showed me the beauty in the forest; the textures of the tree bark, the brush strokes in the clouds, the different hues in the leaves and so many other things we tend to miss in our busy lives.
My mother taught me to be an artist. She gave me the tools to try anything, even if it meant destroying her new carpet in the process. She encouraged me to explore and create. For this I am forever grateful.
Now my art honors all the Wild Wimmin (and men) in my life.
I find beauty in nature and in the wrinkled faces of the old ones. I look into the eyes of a child and find magic. I feel the textures in the many emotions of those I call family and friends. My art studies have had a huge influence in who I have become. I have been through many phases. This is who I am now...
Phases
I am a Celtic lass Embracing the old ways. I dance with the Sidhe As the harp and bagpipes play A melody echoed in my soul.
I am a moon maiden In tune with light and dark. Silver arms reaching out As again, I rise.
I am earth woman, Born of soft black loam And pure sweet rain, I plant each seed with love, And I too grow.
I am a word woman, Pouring knowledge, like rainwater Into the bowls of children. Eagerly they drink the stories And I give more.
I am she, spirit woman.
In dreams, I see tomorrow. In today, I see the past. Once I gathered only flowers, Now I gather wisdom.