The Silent Year Deck
The Silent Year project speaks to that mysterious inner emotional landscape that we turn to in times of transition and loss. I made it into a deck of 22 cards that can be used for meditation and contemplation. Each card represents a concept of inner transformation and is loosely based on C.G. Jung’s teachings. You can order a deck here: www.dawnsurratt.bigcartel.com
My very good friend Sal Taylor Kydd and I, have begun a project called Touchstones. It’s a mixture of images and poetry knitted together in the form of a blog and hopefully one day, a book. You can find us here: www.touch-stones.net
i clean a spider’s web from the window sill.
it’s an endless cycle
me
and she.
i tear it down.
she builds it back.
a temporary gain,
my gaze focuses beyond to the outdoor view in front of me.
maybe the sun will shine tomorrow.
every night, i dream of water…
negotiating the deep pool of unconsciousness that i find myself immersed in now.
i let the water wash over me,
i brace myself,
and slowly sink into it,
learning how to relax.
learning how to rescue myself.
My father had a great sense of humor. But I never thought it was funny when he couldn’t remember the date of my birthday. He would ask me, “What day is your birthday again?” when I told him, he would say “Damn, I’m getting old.”
We women though, we remember our children’s birthdates like our life depends on it. Because we don’t just birth a child, we birth a new identity. We birth ourselves as mothers.
Today my child turned 32 years old. She is a smart, kind and brave young woman. She is a woman that I am honored to know and honored to call my daughter.
Happy birthday, Justyne. Damn….I’m getting old.
Thank you to the North Carolina Literary Review for publishing my works alongside the beautiful words of Faith Holsaert in their latest publication. You can view the entire issue here: https://bit.ly/2SgIAjS
My first foray into crankie making launched at the opening for my two person show (en)compass with Lori Vrba in Durham, NC on October 17. Lori wrote the song Southern Wild, from which the story was based and she and Tama Hochbaum sang. It was such a blast!
Crankies are basically a panoramic scroll in a box that is usually lit from behind. They have roots around the world from the 19th century and are recently making a bit of a comeback. I learned a lot making this one and I will say crankies can definitely be a challenge but I’m really looking forward to making some more stories and developing my style. The scroll was printed from my photographs and is 14” tall and 245” long. I also made shadow puppets to play off the scenes. I think the puppets were my favorite.
Hope you enjoy it.
d
Blue Mitchell and his support and dedication to photographers and artists has been inspirational to me for many years. I am absolutely thrilled to be a part of the ten year celebration of this outstanding publication.
an old spool of thread squashed into pieces by the tires of many cars. a random find on a random back country road that i just happened to look down and pick up. an oracle of sorts.
hanging on by a thread.
I’m heading to the Portland Art Museum to speak on a light topic. If you’re in the Portland area, please come join me. Wednesday, June 19th, 2019, Noon - 1pm
Portland Art Museum
The Miller Gallery, Mark Building
1219 SW Park Avenue, Portland, OR 97205
503 226 2811
Cost: Free to the public
seven years ago, my life as i knew it exploded. it was an agonizing, painful decision that i take full responsibility for. in an attempt to minimize any damages, i assessed the situation carefully, i laid the explosive devices, i analyzed what the destruction might look like, i laid out a safety plan for all who i thought might be effected and then i lit the fuse.
and i made a lot of mistakes….lots. some of the areas i detonated did not fall in the way i wanted them to or anticipated them to. there were unexpected outcomes and i blamed myself for that and probably always will.
on the daily, i meditated in an effort to give myself some grounding through that time. but every time i closed my eyes, my mind would create an experience of crossing an endless body of water trying to get to the land on the other side. in the beginning, i was walking through the water in a violent thunder and lightning storm with rain pelting down so hard i couldn’t even see where i was going. every damn day i would close my eyes and that visualization would be in my head.
but i stuck with it and eventually the storm subsided and moved off into the distance. the sky was still dark and threatening but i did make it to the other side. my visualizations began to change and evolved into exploring a body of land that was unknown to me.
and i think the biggest thing that i learned from that, was not that it was blinding hard, or that i was completely untethered in dark and stormy waters or that i needed to stay focused on survival so i could get through that storm,
but i learned that our stories don’t end. that they continue on and on. and i had really kind of forgotten that in many ways. because i was so attached to the fact that my story as i had lived it, had ended.
and as we live through each change and each loss and our grief becomes many, many griefs…there is a strength in knowing that fact. our stories go on….
i had the lovely good fortune of collaborating with sal taylor kydd for this installation piece. sal’s beautiful, soulful words pierce my heart.
me, sal taylor kydd, tobia makover, lori vrba
we are four women, mothers, artists, and friends….we are four kindreds;
four directions
four elements
four seasons
we are four,
but together we create;
stability
home
solidity
cohesion
kindred, Savannah, GA; 4.26.19
Sending out a ginormous shout out to Kent Chamness and his new and gorgeous publication, NSEW magazine which made its inaugural debut this past month. I am super thrilled to be a part of this beautiful magazine. Kent is featuring artists from all regions of the U.S. and then donating his proceeds to local Tucson charities. How great is that? You can order yours at: www.nsewmag.com
There’s a word jumble meme floating around with the directions that you’re supposed to stare at it until your eye focuses on three words and those are the words that you’ll live by in 2019. Mine were warfare, compass and I couldn’t find a third. What the fuck.
I always miss the year we say goodbye to. I miss its familiarity and its rhythm. It’s a known entity…a neatly wrapped package all tied up in a bow that consists of things like my husband’s smiling blue eyes when he looks at me and my grandson reaching for my hand and my tears falling on my beloved Molly Dodd as she died in my arms. All those moments that are big and little and make up the whole. My primer, my archeology.
2019 will take proper time to grow on me yet. I’m slow to warm. But I’m ever grateful to be able to give it a go. Time to leap over that moon.
The first showing of Sweeping the Graves opened in October and I had the chance to speak about the work at the second reception in November. The life altering, sacred experience of working for more than 20 years as a hospice social worker will forever be ingrained into my soul and this work is an attempt to honor those many people who allowed me through their grace, to walk alongside them as they left this earth. There is a book with direct quotes from patients and families and a few of my personal impressions that accompany this show as well as an interactive memorial piece that invites viewers to tie a white ribbon onto framed tree branches in honor of their loved ones. There will be a second showing of this work in Fairhope, Alabama in April of 2019.
Details from my large installation, Collective Consciousness at the Murmurations exhibition October 6 - 26th in Raleigh, NC. After learning of the title of the show and thinking about what a murmuration in nature is about, I felt compelled to create an installation that brought together the artistic energies of the 10 artists into one piece. Just as murmurations take their cue from only seven other birds around them to move collectively as a whole, I felt it would be fascinating to extemporaneously create a site specific piece that encompassed our artistic, collective whole. I asked each artist for an image or object that they would like to share as part of this piece and incorporated it into the install. The entire piece comprised close to 300 individual prints and one of a kind objects.
The month of October came and went. As is the case when I am in experiences that consume me, I can only be present with them. The idea that I could capture those moments in real time and document them are not something that I’ve ever been able to do. Like any good introvert, I get easily overwhelmed. So if it comes down to making the choice between experiencing or recording time, hell I’ll choose experience any day, hands down.
There were so many things about October that held great importance to me and the only thing that I can do now is go back and reflect upon it.
The show that was Murmurations opened in Raleigh at the Visual Arts Exchange on October 6th and closed on the 26th. Poof it was gone. But it was a tremendous experience to be in the company of such extraordinary talent: Heather Evans Smith, Lori Vrba, Melanie Walker, Greg Banks, Anne Berry, Addison Brown, Brooke Caudle, Heidi Kirkpatrick and curated by Tobia Makover. This show was pure energy…a melding and dance of moving parts that magically came together to weave a comprehensive narrative of memory, legacy and family. An honor to be a part of it.
And that same week was the click photofestival which was a total joy and a lot of hard work. I met insanely talented and lovely new friends as well as Keith Carter who graced my cheek with a big ole kiss. When Keith Carter tells you he loves your work and asks if he can take pictures of it for teaching purposes, you casually nod your head yes while your insides burst into flames. A honor of the highest sort.
I was juried into the first annual click photobook exhibition that opened at Horse and Buggy Press in Durham with my accordion foldout book, Names. That was a very welcome surprise since book making is a direction that I want to continue to take, learning as much as I possibly can.
On October 19th, my solo exhibit Sweeping the Graves opened in Durham at the Suntrust Gallery and will be there through December 8th. There were openly moved people viewing my work through tears and smiles…it was all any artist could ever hope for.
And my series Prancing Snowflake still on The Fence exhibit in downtown Durham through the end of November….an embarrassment of riches.
So there you have it. October. I turned 58 years old in October, six days later my grandson turned 2. This is what puts life in perspective.
Thanks for reading.
Peace and grace.
a dear friend wrote to me yesterday to express her condolences over the loss of my corgi girl, Molly Dodd. her words were her truth and they were heartfelt...she knew my heart was hurting, she wished she could make it better, and she loved me. her letter was a soothing balm. in her simple and loving words, she expressed the three universal truths that we all long for in this world:
to know we matter.
to know we aren't alone.
to know we're loved.
grief is only ever about love. without it, grief would never exist. i just wish love didn't have to bring grief along... grief is such an inconsiderate asshole.
after we said goodbye to Molly, we turned down the road and a giant murmuration of birds was in front of us. tim stopped the car and we watched them ascend.
cry heart, but never break.
