I knew I was going to like artists Joel and Ashley Selby before I met them -- they're aesthetic was evident from their website and artwork, and they were prompt with a sunny e-mail response. But I was never prepared for them to be such a (oh I hate to even say it...) cute couple!
How, you ask, could you use such a cliche? Well, I provide the following list as support for the use of such a well-worn phrase:
1. They live in a farmhouse, an 1851 farmhouse. I am a sucker for 19th century farmhouses.
2. They have chickens outside the farmhouse.
3. They are young, just out of college young.
4. They smile a lot.
5. They seem at ease wearing hats.
6. They love to bake bread and cookies and save scraps of good paper.
7. They use chalkboards as decor.
8. They love Flight of the Concords.
9. They understand the importance of good fonts and can discuss them at length while keeping you interested.
10. You just know they have only begun to stretch their artistic wings.
Read the Go Triad cover article, and find out more about their budding business and great eye for design. Also, there will be a few pics online supporting, if not condoning, my choice of words.
Monday, December 28, 2009
Wednesday, December 9, 2009
Welcome to Welcome, NC
It was raining. It always seems to be raining. I'd followed my little map to Welcome, N.C. to meet Richard Childress at his mega-motorsports facility, and I needed gas and to make sure I hadn't passed the turn (I am a woman -- it's easy to stop for directions).
I pulled into a one-pump station in downtown Welcome and inadvertently rang the full-service bell before getting out of the car. A man walked out, gray sweatshirt as armor against the blowing mist, and I apologized, saying I would pump it myself.
"You will not," he said with a smile as he opened the tank. "Oh, and (looking at the card in my hand) you're paying my credit. We usually only accept cash or check. But ... I can see you are not from around here." Check? Really? Who pays for gas by check? "We'll take care of it for you and run the card, although we usually don't like to."
Mind you, this was said without a hint of sarcasm or rushing. I stood beside the car, awkwardly, not used to having someone pump the gas. Cars drove by slowly, their tires hissing on the rain-soaked street. We walked inside where tires and Lance crackers were stacked, and I signed for the bill. I was bid a good day with a smile, and told to be careful out there, walking back out into the rain. Full-service hospitality, sincere and not sticky-sweet. The good stuff. The real thing.
I pulled into a one-pump station in downtown Welcome and inadvertently rang the full-service bell before getting out of the car. A man walked out, gray sweatshirt as armor against the blowing mist, and I apologized, saying I would pump it myself.
"You will not," he said with a smile as he opened the tank. "Oh, and (looking at the card in my hand) you're paying my credit. We usually only accept cash or check. But ... I can see you are not from around here." Check? Really? Who pays for gas by check? "We'll take care of it for you and run the card, although we usually don't like to."
Mind you, this was said without a hint of sarcasm or rushing. I stood beside the car, awkwardly, not used to having someone pump the gas. Cars drove by slowly, their tires hissing on the rain-soaked street. We walked inside where tires and Lance crackers were stacked, and I signed for the bill. I was bid a good day with a smile, and told to be careful out there, walking back out into the rain. Full-service hospitality, sincere and not sticky-sweet. The good stuff. The real thing.
Wednesday, December 2, 2009
Is is Professional if I ask for an Autograph??
You know those Saturday afternoons where you are supposed to be cleaning but where you end up perched on the couch watching a movie? Yes, you know, don't you? Well, that's how I saw Center Stage the first time (yes, I said first) in all of its girl-movie glory. It was like Cutting Edge or Ice Castles, or a little like Coyote Ugly, but with ballet, and I was hooked by the dancing, the melodrama, and the fact that the mean instructor was hot and rode a motorcycle.
My Saturday afternoon has come to life. I met the instructor, and yes, he does actually ride a motorcycle, although he's not mean and he didn't teach me any ballet moves (anyone who has ever witnessed me fall off a platform shoe or run into a wall in my own house knows that I am the vision of grace). For a Go Triad cover story, I got the chance to interview Ethan Stiefel, the actor and one of the best ballet dancers in the world who is now the dean of dance at the UNCSA.
Read my profile of him here and learn how he's changing the face of dance and pushing himself in the process. And for the record, no, I didn't get an autograph.
My Saturday afternoon has come to life. I met the instructor, and yes, he does actually ride a motorcycle, although he's not mean and he didn't teach me any ballet moves (anyone who has ever witnessed me fall off a platform shoe or run into a wall in my own house knows that I am the vision of grace). For a Go Triad cover story, I got the chance to interview Ethan Stiefel, the actor and one of the best ballet dancers in the world who is now the dean of dance at the UNCSA.
Read my profile of him here and learn how he's changing the face of dance and pushing himself in the process. And for the record, no, I didn't get an autograph.
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
Thank you to all the artists out there
Artists inspire me. Yeah, you say, that's why they're artists, and isn't that what art is supposed to do? But think about it -- there is so much in life that saps our energy, makes us drudge through the day, uninspires us, as it were. And there are so many people out there that call themselves artists that to me aren't; they're just off-putting people into self-promotion and all that comes with being an (phonetic spelling) arteest.
I'm not discussing any of those people. I'm talking about the true worker bees out there, buzzing away in their respective mediums, producing stuff that makes us stop, look, and suddenly see something in a different way. Like the day, gray and wearing thin after a long 6 hours touring the sights of Nashville. When I walked into the Frist Center for Visual Arts, thinking more about sitting down than walking around. But then, there is was (and this was besides the exhibit featuring Man Ray), one of my favorite Georgia O'Keefe paintings. It wasn't the flowers or skulls or bold landscapes -- it was the side of an adobe wall with one little window and the clear blue sky beyond.
I'd never seen it in person, had forgotten that it had already stopped me before, somewhere in some book, but here is was, reminding me of bright afternoon sunlight on a back porch somewhere in New Mexico that I had never visited but returned to me like a memory strong enough to make my eyes water. And although that piece itself inspired me, yes, it was the idea that in that scene the artist had seen the worthiness, the place, the button to flip our perspective into a new angle.
I am a lucky woman. Part of my paying job is to visit artists, usually in their environment, and talk to them about what they do, what inspires them, where they see themselves headed next. Though not as famous as O'Keefe, here are a few to inspire you, should you need it. And I think we all do:
-- Marcus Amaker
-- Hilarie Lambert
-- Duy Huynh
-- Chad Luberger
-- Karen Hewitt Hagan
-- Ethan Stiefel
I'm not discussing any of those people. I'm talking about the true worker bees out there, buzzing away in their respective mediums, producing stuff that makes us stop, look, and suddenly see something in a different way. Like the day, gray and wearing thin after a long 6 hours touring the sights of Nashville. When I walked into the Frist Center for Visual Arts, thinking more about sitting down than walking around. But then, there is was (and this was besides the exhibit featuring Man Ray), one of my favorite Georgia O'Keefe paintings. It wasn't the flowers or skulls or bold landscapes -- it was the side of an adobe wall with one little window and the clear blue sky beyond.
I'd never seen it in person, had forgotten that it had already stopped me before, somewhere in some book, but here is was, reminding me of bright afternoon sunlight on a back porch somewhere in New Mexico that I had never visited but returned to me like a memory strong enough to make my eyes water. And although that piece itself inspired me, yes, it was the idea that in that scene the artist had seen the worthiness, the place, the button to flip our perspective into a new angle.
I am a lucky woman. Part of my paying job is to visit artists, usually in their environment, and talk to them about what they do, what inspires them, where they see themselves headed next. Though not as famous as O'Keefe, here are a few to inspire you, should you need it. And I think we all do:
-- Marcus Amaker
-- Hilarie Lambert
-- Duy Huynh
-- Chad Luberger
-- Karen Hewitt Hagan
-- Ethan Stiefel
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Shoe Shrines
In my journey to cover more visual arts, I have found yet another thing I must add to my budding art collection -- a shoe shrine!
A few people are doing shoe shrines: Melanie Hill Guion and blogging artistic types like Kay Cox, but by far the shrine I HAVE TO HAVE is a selection from Carol Cutshall, aka Shezilla (it's a rockabilly-punk-surf band thing from what I understand). Her Elvis shrine is featured at the top of this blog.
Shoe shrines call to the Mexican Santo shrine tradition, and honoring someone via mixed media is part of the form. In fact, shrines are inherently homemade, and Cutshall uses hers to celebrate famous musicians. Still, the idea of a shoe as frame is at once whimsical and genius.
I am on a mini-quest to track down Ms. Cutshall as I've found a gallery that carried some of her stuff but has lost touch with her.
Shoe shrines will invade Winston-Salem this weekend, as more than 100 have been created to honor Arts District mover and shaker Kelly Petersen. Article to follow on Thurs.!
Thursday, September 24, 2009
Documenting Mills
I've always had a special place in my heart for textile mills. Long before I had a love affair with fabric, I was drawn to the buildings themselves, their massive brick facades often full of comparatively-small windows. In North Carolina during my lifetime, mills have always been laying off, shutting down, becoming vacant ghosts of themselves surrounded by neighborhoods no longer anchored to a workplace identity.
Mills also have just generally been part of Southern culture and its expression since they first came on the scene after the Civil War. Some of my favorite mentions:
-- Lee Smith's Fair and Tender Ladies, where it's a coal mine but still a spot-on description of a mill village
-- The Hallmark Hall of Fame The Dollmaker with Jane Fonda in one of the most heart-wrenching movies, even for chick flick fans
-- Any of countless mill houses in any N.C. small town, whose hardwood floors, sturdy construction and streets that go somewhere are better than any house in a cul-de-sac dead end
-- Textile Mills songs, especially Pete Seeger's Winnsboro Cotton Mill Blues. Check out this list for more inspiration: Textile Mill Songs
Mary Dalton, documentary filmmaker at Wake Forest University, adds to the conversation with her new documentary Oakdale Cotton Mills: Close-Knit Neighbors. My article on it today in Go Triad delves into the process that helped save the stories of this now-shuttered mill.
Mills also have just generally been part of Southern culture and its expression since they first came on the scene after the Civil War. Some of my favorite mentions:
-- Lee Smith's Fair and Tender Ladies, where it's a coal mine but still a spot-on description of a mill village
-- The Hallmark Hall of Fame The Dollmaker with Jane Fonda in one of the most heart-wrenching movies, even for chick flick fans
-- Any of countless mill houses in any N.C. small town, whose hardwood floors, sturdy construction and streets that go somewhere are better than any house in a cul-de-sac dead end
-- Textile Mills songs, especially Pete Seeger's Winnsboro Cotton Mill Blues. Check out this list for more inspiration: Textile Mill Songs
Mary Dalton, documentary filmmaker at Wake Forest University, adds to the conversation with her new documentary Oakdale Cotton Mills: Close-Knit Neighbors. My article on it today in Go Triad delves into the process that helped save the stories of this now-shuttered mill.
Tuesday, September 15, 2009
Chef Keith Snow article makes WNC cover
A rainy drive to Tryon, N.C. was worth it this spring. My profile of Harvest Eating's Chef Keith Snow is the cover story for the September issue of WNC Magazine! I was thrilled to bring the idea of the Chef's profile to editor Eric Seeger and even more thrilled when I saw the story. The photos are outstanding and really capture Snow's life -- one part farm, one part TV host, and one part celebrity chef.
I'm looking forward to his show, Harvest Eating, this fall on PBS. Until then, I'll enjoy my late summer tomato harvest and look forward to collard greens, my version of Harvest Eating.
I'm looking forward to his show, Harvest Eating, this fall on PBS. Until then, I'll enjoy my late summer tomato harvest and look forward to collard greens, my version of Harvest Eating.
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