About Thankfulness

Bye, Bye Daddy: putting together the pieces of an idea

It was Black Friday, 1992, though I don't think we called the day after Thanksgiving "Black Friday" back then, or, if we did, it wasn't such a crazy big deal as it is now. In any case, my family celebrated Thanksgiving day with my in-laws when they were still hosting the family feast. We had done this since we were first married. It was the one holiday in my husband's family where everyone, no matter where they were and what they were doing, made a huge effort to travel to Ohio to join the Thanksgiving day feast. Our family stories for years were measured in yearly Thanksgiving day beats.
As was also usual, I called my Dad on Friday to see how his holiday went, to touch base, to chat, to hear his voice. It was evening time, and when he picked up the phone, his voice sounded funny. We had a short and sweet conversation, and when I said goodbye, he replied with an uncharacteristic "bye, bye." I hadn't told him I loved him. By the next morning he was dead; Saturday, November 28, 1992. I am thankful we had spoken the night before.

Fast-forward twenty-six years, another Thanksgiving weekend, and here I sit, like I do every post-Thanksgiving weekend, remembering and still loving and missing my Dad. That part never goes away. I had lost my mom the year before Daddy died, in 1991. Her death was sudden, too, and shocked me to the core, because I had never experienced a loss like that before. Dad's sudden death numbed me somewhere deep inside, where a part of me would move forward permanently broken.

Part of my dad's shirt holds together the other bits
and pieces pulled together to tell the story.

Luckily for me, I am an artist. I have a place to put those feelings, to let them birth out of me into the world where I (and other viewers) can contemplate the expression. It wasn't long after Dad died that I started this piece using bits of his clothing, a photo-transfer I made of an old Army picture, rubbings made in Mexico, hand dyed fabrics, and Depression-era ration tickets for food and gas transferred onto fabric. I got to tell my story and begin to heal my soul.
I have made several artworks about my Dad over the decades since he died, each time reprocessing my thoughts and feelings onto another surface, something I can hold up and examine. I call this group of artwork  my Hero Series. I am thankful that I have had the opportunity to show the pieces in numerous venues, and thankful for the chance to touch and connect with a new audience each time.
I became obsessed with genealogy research after my Dad died. On a shelf in his bedroom closet, there was a stack of photographs that I had never seen. Dad's sister Carole, the genealogist on that side of the family, had sent them. He hadn't shown them to me or my siblings. That was a the beginning of a new way to heal for me. Instead of feeling like an orphan, I could literally connect myself to a larger family.

Hero 4: Bye Bye, Daddy by Gayle Pritchard. An ancient Tibetan prayer box anchors the top,
and my story is written in on the fabric as well as hung onto embellishments that hang down
or are stitched onto the surface. Over dad's Army picture, juxtaposed in strips with the
statue of David, there is a sheer veil, my representation of death.

With a chance to do some lazy-day, Thanksgiving holiday digging around on my computer, a moment of serendipity occurred. I was adding photos and scanned documents to my Ancestry family tree, when I ran across a 1949 clipping my sister had found online during a newspaper search. It had the simple heading: Airport News.

Neil Vickery, my dad, landed at this airport.
At that time, 1949, he was a barnstormer,
doing air shows around the area. 

"Hmmm, interesting", I thought. I have vivid memories of barnstormers who flew into my small hometown. We would stand in our backyard and watch in amazement as they performed tricks in the sky. I could now put my dad's face on those brave flyers.
Then I ran across a picture of dad from 1949. It is actually a photocopy of a picture of dad, and I wish I knew who has the original. In the photograph, he is standing next to his biplane. He's wearing a flight suit and, instead of his flashy Army aviation sunglasses, he has flight goggles pushed up onto his leather flying cap.
For a moment in time, I am connected to my dad in the year 1949, eight years before I was born. Two moments in time, a newspaper clipping and a photograph taken of the young flyer, fell into my lap as a gift. Both had been sitting in my computer, but I had never put them together before. Now, a little piece of my dad had been returned to me. I am so thankful.

My dad, the flyer, the barnstormer, in a picture dated 1949.

Art in Cleveland = Article Gallery

Hope you can join us at the opening or the closing!

Once again, my art group pals and I are having an exhibition. Curator Mary Urbas and Article Gallery director Louis Ross invited us to exhibit there during Women's History Month. So exciting!

I have so enjoyed creating a great deal of new work for this show: fiber art mixed media quilts and hangings, stitched mixed media collages, and 3-D work. I'll show you more over the coming weeks. Here are a few detail glimpses:

Embellishments being added to Travel Ban.

Adding stitching, both hand and machine, to my collage, Lost Angels.

Jill Milenski, Gail Crum and I will also be giving a gallery talk at the closing in April. We hope to see you!

Skeletons, Skeletons, Everywhere I Go

A fun night at the Skeleton Show with dear friends.

Honestly, I simply cannot remember a time when I have been more busy! I haven't even had time to write in my journal, let alone update my blog. So, let me begin with an attempt at a blow by blow of an amazing few weeks.

Ghoulish putt-putt anyone?

First up: The Skeleton Show at LCCC gallery, and curated by the inimitable Mary Urbas.

Artist friends Sean and Gail Crum were both in the invitational biennial exhibition, Sean with a cool new print, and Gail with her amazing collage Fear and her assemblage, Skeleton Putt Putt.

Sold! Some lucky patron is taking home Gail's Fear.

Adding to the fun of the evening was a huge crowd, many of whom were dressed in elaborate costumes.They were several booth vendors, as well, selling fun items like sugar skulls, which I bought for my grandkids.

Not sure what the costume is, but it's festive!

Mary Urbas in full regalia!

It's always fascinating to see the fleshed out ideas of other artists. Creativity is such a gift to the world: smile, cry, think, observe, react. It's an experience. I encourage you to try it!

An amazing fiber sculpture by Janet Frazee Wade.

I soooo love this necklace!

One of my favorite local artists, Mark Yasenschack
made some ceramic skeleton heads for the show.
Dozens of them were sold by nights' end!

We topped off the evening with dinner at a fabulous chef-run Mexican restaurant in Lakewood, El Carnicero. The atmosphere is urban and fun, and the food and drinks are to die for. 

So, there you have it, details on one lovely night of art, friends and food. Wait until I tell you about Friday, the very next day. Watch this space!

Evidence of Work and Patting Ourselves on the Back

"Evidence", an example from one of my creativity

workshops.  ©gaylepritchard

Boy, do the days, weeks and months fly by. I have always loved John Lennon's lyric, "Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans." His line resonates throughout my being. Overcoming the hindrances of life is how I have learned to go with the flow while still remaining focused.

It's not that I am required to do x, y and z on any given day. Flexibility to the workday is one of the many benefits of being self-employed. What is required of me, rather, is what I set out through personal choice and motivation to accomplish, and I am quite disciplined in that regard. I keep my eyes on the prize.

Over the past two months, life has certainly happened, and derailed me on and off for a time. My darling nephew died suddenly, five days after returning from his honeymoon. That happened at the same time that my brother was told he needed emergency bypass surgery, and then the cardiologist proceeded to throw roadblock after roadblock in his path, preventing the surgery from happening for nearly three months. One time, the surgery had been scheduled to take place the night before my nephew's funeral, six hours away, so the family fretted over plans as we tried to figure out how to be present with our brother for his surgery, then drive six hours and arrive in time to be with our sister the morning of her son's funeral. It was actually a relief when they cancelled the surgery when the doctor supposedly "found" signs of kidney cancer in his blood-work. Mind you, none of this had shown up in the previous three pre-op blood-work tests, and, of course, he did not have cancer of any sort. It was the closest I have ever come to having a panic attack.

Another time the surgery was scheduled, but didn't happen, my husband and I had driven the three hours to the location, rented a hotel room, and were prepared to camp out until he was up and around. Prepped and shaved and ready to receive anesthesia, the surgery was cancelled one last time due to a miscommunication between the cardiologist and the surgeon. It was an emotional roller coaster for all of us all summer long, I can tell you.

My 2017 Vision Board, made each year in January 

in a workshop with my daughter. It requires taking 

time to consider and focus on what it is you want in

your life in the coming year. The results are always

astounding.

I write about this only because I suspect that your life has these periods, as well. It is so easy to have plans derailed, and sometimes it is really important for us to turn our attention elsewhere and put aside whatever it was that seemed so important before the disastrous event occurred. It's okay. Yes, deadlines may loom, and freelance opportunities are waiting for your return, but it's very difficult, at least for me, to be creative on demand, and crisis-mode tends to inhibit that creativity temporarily. More importantly, there is never a time when the needs of my loved ones would take second place. There are simply moments when you need to be present for others.

I do admit, though, the delitght and joy that fills me when I can return to my work. Down the rabbit hole and immersed in my creative mojo is the place where my soul lives. Since life has settled down, I've made up for lost time. I have entered three writing call to entries, as well as Cleveland's Keep Talking storytelling call for entries on the theme of "medical." I have written drafts of two new stories, and worked on editing others. I am pulling together two new creativity workshops in hopes of presenting them at Hippocamp 2018. I have entered a regional juried art exhibition, and two national ones have deadlines looming. I'm ready with several new pieces.

This coming Friday curators and docents from the Cleveland Museum of Art will attend the exhibition I am so honored to be a part of, In the Details. Over the next few days, I need to finish preparing a seven minute presentation about my artwork. I'm on it. I know what I want to accomplish, and I keep working toward those goals. It makes me happy. It feeds my soul.

So, take a moment to give yourself a pat on the back if you have been able to keep working toward the things you want to accomplish. If not, give yourself a break. Tomorrow is a new day.

In the Details

My art group at the opening of In the Details, Jill Milenski,

Gail Crum and me standing in front of my installed work.

I was so excited last Friday night to attend the opening of In the Details, a fiber exhibition curated by Mary Urbas and held at the Artist Archives of the Western Reserve. The CAN journal, Cleveland's go-to magazine for the arts community, had a nice article preview about the show and the accompanying solo exhibition by the late Lillian Tyrell at the adjacent Sculpture Center, Disaster Blankets. New-to-me Canvas Magazine also had a nice review article by Michael C. Butz.

Mary Urbas, center, talks about In the Details, as the artists in attendance
listen in. Left to right: Jennifer, Deborah, Juli, Mary, AAWR director Mindy
Tousely, Gayle Pritchard, Libby Chaney

The gallery is a small space, but it's perfect for showcasing a themed exhibit, as this one is. A broad range of fiber art is on display, and includes two of the Archived artist, Lillian Tyrell and Evelyn Svec Ward. I was happy to be included for exhibition with amazing artists such as Susan Shie, Libby Chaney, Juli Edberg, Sandy Miller, Jessica Pinsky, Jennifer Whitten and Deborah Silver, all of whose work I have admired over the years. The show will be up through November 4.

Part of the crowd reading Susan Shie's amazing work.

Falling Into the Rhythm

Detail of Beauty Queen by Gayle Pritchard

Fall is here. I say it out loud, even though it's only September 4th. Yesterday would have been my mother's 89th birthday, had she managed to live to a ripe, old age. It's also the day my husband and I had our "family" wedding celebration, seven months after we went to a Justice of the Peace in Virginia to get married. Fall is full of memories. It's a bittersweet time, since I always feel a bit wistful as summer wanes and cooler weather approaches. Still, fall offers its own opportunities, and it's time to adjust to that new, slower rhythm.

Last week, I finished and delivered my artwork, including three brand new pieces, to the Artist Archives of the Western Reserve. I am absolutely thrilled to have been included in the upcoming exhbition, In the Details. The exhibition was curated by Cleveland's own Mary Urbas, and it will open to the public on September 15.

I have many stories to tell about the artworks I created for the show, but I am not ready to tell them yet. I will share a detail of one of my new pieces, one of three I made in honor of my nephew, Jeremy Schroth, who died in recent weeks. He was a Wounded Warrior. His life given in service to his country over a series of multiple deployments rested heavily on my mind as I finished Wounded: What You Can Do For Your Country.

Detail of Wounded: What You Can Do For Your Country
by Gayle Pritchard; 2017

This week, I am fortunate to attend HippoCamp 2017 in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, a conference for writers of creative non-fiction. My daughter, who is also a writer, will attend with me for the second year in a row. I can't wait to explore a different part of my creative brain!

Showing Up and Working

Sometimes you just have to go into your studio, close the door and get to work. I used to have a studio, the one in the picture, outside of my home. When the kids left home, I didn't really need outside space, since I had extra bedrooms I could fill up. The only drawback is the carpeting in the rooms, which I hesitate to get too dirty with dripped paint, and the like.

That said, even at home, I don't get into my studio every day. Right now, though, I am preparing for an exhibition at the Artist Archives of the Western Reserve curated by Mary Urbas, and entitled In the Details. It opens next month, several months earlier than initially planned, and I am really slamming it right now to finish up the new pieces I want to show.

What I'm working on right now? I can't even tell you the titles. For me, I never know exactly what the work is until it reaches a tipping point, and I understand what it is about. I continue working through the uncertainty until the piece reveals its intent to me. I have a number of those in progress right now. One is a political piece that is constructed with my dad's old flag and zippers. More on that another day. I just finished painting the top piece for this one, a construction with several stitched panels and a book at the bottom.

This large wooden protractor, given to me recently by a friend, is going to hold the components together and also serve as a hanging mechanism for the piece, shown here before this part was painted:

You can't really tell from this picture that the very bottom panel is actually a fabric book, hanging open in the photograph. It will be folded up and attached to the middle panel when it is all assembled.

Here is one of the side panels, almost finished. The back is a luscious purple silk and the front is my hand dyed shibori. I love the lines in this fabric!