More paint!

Paint in a closet?

The last thing an artist wants to do is throw his or her painting into a closet. Well, I guess I can't overgeneralize. When I say artist I mean me. It kills me to think that thirty or forty hours of work can sit, collect dust, and take up space behind a closed door. Art, at least this art project, is meant to be seen.

As I'm sitting, chewing on some spinach during my lunch break, I consider what to do with my Even Me paintings as I finish one after the other. I am about 1/3 of the way done with two faces, John and Glory. Will where they go when they're finished? Will they sit in a storage unit? Or, I guess they could take up space in my apartment while I start new faces. 

Having said that, those two options don't sound too appealing. So, here's a thought. Originally, I wanted to wait to show all 24 Even Me faces together, which would probably be sometime in 2014. And, I'm still going to do that, but until then, I want to show one or two paintings at a time for a few reasons:

1. If I have real-life (not just in my head) deadlines, I will be more motivated to paint.

2. Showing a couple paintings here and there will help familiarize communities of the final 20 x 30 ft installation, which could ultimately open up more opportunities in the future. 

3. I could escape my worst fear: paintings in a closet. 

So. There you have it. If you're in contact with any galleries, coffee shops, boutiques, museums, airports, or any space (even your house) that could hold a 4x4ft painting (or more), please email me at jennathorp@gmail.com. Maybe John and Glory can lead this journey!

Progress!

She Started Painting.

After all this talk, all the videos, all the blog entries, all the behind-the-scenes action, I doubted that the painting of Even Me would come to fruition. However, out of the six panels sitting, waiting in anticipation for the soft touch of a filbert paintbrush to gently stroke its surface, two of the panels met their destination. Let me explain:

Using yellow ochre for the base coat, I roughly sketched out the first Even Me face: Glory. She was one of my fireball students. She’s four years old (maybe five now). She wears red Mary Janes. And she is trouble.

I don’t have a specific order in which I’m painting the children. I want to say the order is random, but it’s hard to think anything can be completely random: our minds are very complex, and I believe everything has a pattern. 

Something must have influenced me to choose Glory as the pioneer. Thus, I’ve come up with a theory; I chose Glory’s face based on one thing: inspiration. While looking through my reference photographs, hers stood out to me. Her teeth are barely showing (no painter wants to start with teeth), the lighting is absolutely perfect, her face is tilted at just the right angle, and the most inspiring: although she was one of the youngest children, she is the boldest. Her boldness has infected me. She has inspired me.

Essentially, each face is a story of inspiration. Each child has experienced abandonment, loneliness, neglect, some starvation, others pneumonia. Now, they are all living, learning, growing, rising, and becoming. Their stories have and will continue to transform me. I will continue to capture their resistance to dark and perseverance to light. 

Back to surface talk: oils take time to dry. Instead of hopelessly blowing on wet paint, I set Glory aside and started panel number two: John. He is the oldest boy. He’s a leader. And his teeth are definitely showing. I’ve obviously gained confidence in the past day to start with teeth. But who wouldn’t gain confidence? I have two beautifully rough-looking, 4 x 4 ft paintings in my apartment, and I am more than pleased; I am ecstatic! I am genuinely thankful to my backers for supporting me because I have the funds to do exactly what I was made for. 

What it Takes to Build an Even Me Panel:

Number One: A professional carpenter. I have gotten away with building panels on my own in the past. I can handle the wood, the saw (with a chaperone), the drill, and all that goes into building a panel, really. However, handling it doesn't mean I can master it. Therefore, hiring a professional to build professional panels is a smart investment. Thank you, Brandy Holland. 
Number Two: 8' x 4' sheets of luaun.
Number Three: Primer.
Number Four: Spray Adhesive: heavy duty!
Number Five: 4" thick boards for the frame.
Number Six: Original African fabric. One for each panel. 
Number Seven: Time. Lots of it. 
And Number Eight, the most obvious: My generous backers! You have given me the resources to purchase these materials! I wouldn't be building anything if it weren't for you. Thank you, backers!
And, this isn't necessary, but it's fun to document the progress. So, thank you, Mom, for filming the event!
The frame wrapped with African fabric:

And the final white panel hanging on the wall. Soon to be painted on... 

And the short video for your entertainment:

Video Update!

A small glimpse of my trip back to Tanzania:

Even me, I am loved.

They say to keep your eye on the light at the end of the tunnel; thankfully, I have found that light. My overbooked autumn has come to an end: I have settled into a new town, I am getting the hang of my adult job, my sister is happily married, around forty Even Me rewards have been shipped (please let me know if you didn’t receive yours), and I have managed to travel to Tanzania, Kenya, and the British Virgin Islands in the last two weeks. Although somewhat jetlagged, I feel at rest, unhurried, and at ease with life. 

My Tanzanian reunion was worth every yawn, back pain, and sleepless hour. The embraces of twenty-four enthusiastic children knocked me to the ground, and after hugs and dirt stains, the children serenaded me with an original, “we ah hoppy to see Mees John-uh (we are happy to see Miss Jenna)” song that was evidently rehearsed more than once. With the short amount of time I had in Tanzania, I was able to film the kids sharing their ideas about ‘Even Me’, catch up with my friends, and see the physical and mental growth of my students. Most importantly, this trip reminded me of why I began Even Me in the first place. 

The orphanage in Tanzania is continually growing in numbers. Even  Me was conceptualized while twenty-four orphans were at the village. When I left the village in July, there were twenty-seven orphans; there are now thirty-one and the village will continue to expand. Part of me feels guilty about meeting new, wonderful children, and not including them into my project. On the other hand, adding an Even Me painting to every child that joins the village is overwhelming and unrealistic. Thus, I’ve decided that Even Me is a snapshot in time, a brief moment captured, a memoir of my year in Africa. 

Now that I’m back to normal life in Deland, Even Me is constantly whispering in my ear, “Paint, paint, paint!” I will start and finish building the twenty-four wooden panels while I’m in Pensacola for Christmas. And, until then, I will be composing a short film of my time in Tanzania (which will be out within the week). I’m looking forward to 2012 as it will be filled with oil paint, African fabric, and tangible pieces of art.

I realize my posts always end with a ‘thank you’ to my backers, but I am truly grateful for this opportunity to share the culture of Tanzania, the small voices of abandoned children, and a large chunk of my heart. Thank you.