Journal: Details
Realizing all of my work is kind of about my dead grandmother.
It is a cloudy day here in Nashville. I don’t have as many finished designs as I would like to have by a Friday, but the designs I do have contain more fine details and took longer to make.
This drawing is a clown rabbit plush my late grandmother gave me when I was six or seven years old. Her name is Bonny Bell. My grandmother liked to name the plush toys she gave me. Bonny Bell had a twin named Billy Bob that was gifted to my brother. I’ve found myself illustrating a lot of things that my grandmother gave me.
My grandmother passed away in May of last year. I had a complicated relationship with her. I found more connection to her through objects like this plush than through any interaction we had. She had this way of talking around things that made every conversation a minefield. I was scared of her. I wrote about that part of my family a couple of weeks ago.
One thing we had in common was our love of plush and knick-knacks. I think I was one of the few family members that really appreciated the way she decorated. I understand why my aunts and uncles thought her decor was a bit tacky, but that was precisely what I liked about it. She filled her home rather impulsively with items she thought were beautiful or “just the cutest little things.”
I’ve been reflecting a bit on my relationship to my grandmother and my desire to create decorative work. Growing up, I was often told with words that “stuff” was frivolous vanity by people who would then spend a lot of money on largely cosmetic home renovations. It was not uncommon for adults in my life to stop by a realtor’s open house after Church and nit-pick interior design decisions the same way they would the theological implications of that Sunday’s sermon.
Talking theology with my grandmother was always a battle of wits. She’d coil up like a cat ready to pounce at the slightest error in phrasing lest the Word of God be interpreted in a way that did not fit her vision of truth. But talk about THINGS and the ever-present twinkle in her eye would shift from superiority to delight. Her mouth would un-pinch and she’d pull things out of cupboards and say “Oh, you can have this one!” This “frivolity” was the most genuine connection we had.
Anyway, I’m still debating on what drawing I want to buy from my Fine Art America shop to put over my record player. The above drawing of Joe in a field is a strong contender. I’ve really enjoyed drawing everyday scenes and items from my life lately, but it has made it hard to find something for my actual apartment. Apparently, images of places we pass to go to work don’t fly with my partner, even if the vibes are immaculate. I initially wanted this image, but I realized it was basically view outside the window next to where I want to hang this. Context matters in art, you know? I’ll just keep it in mind for my next move.
On Tuesday, I filmed several reels of outfits I made around my shirt designs. I plan to release them on my Instagram account over the next few weeks. It reminded me of how I used to do fashion shows when I was a kid. In some of them, I feature the potted snake plant that inspired my Great Indoors design. I stole the pot from my late Grandmother’s garage after her funeral. I can’t seem to escape her influence. I may not be living the legacy she wanted for me, but I am living the version of her legacy that fills me with the most joy.