It’s been a moment since my last share with you. I have been taking care of mom. In previous posts I shared how she had become a quadraplegic. She eventually developed additional health complications which required my full attention. Such care for quadralegic–that’s paralysis of all limbs–does not come with a manual, thus, my absence from here.
But…thru it all, my devotion to my art continued. It’s ease of transport, my crochet needle and yarn, allowed me to engaged through the arduos journey of caring for mom which meant constant emergency room visits, appointments with specialists and long stays in rehab.
I am so pleased to share my artwork helped me to make it through this challenging period. All the work I created while in doctor’s offices and waiting rooms resulted in a spectacular solo art exhibition entitled “Tree-Mendous!”. I dedicated the show to my mother and as life would coincidentally have it, on the last day of the show, its closing, my mother, too, closed. Her journey concluded with the closing of my show dedicated to our tremedously rewarding time together during her last year.
Ahh, the memories…and the joy of total emersion into caring for another while using my art to care for me. Art truly heals.
Here are highlights from the exhibition:
“The Beginnings” Copyright (c) 2016 Alicia Evans
This shows how my process begins with what appears to be crocheted string which I then “sculpt” into images.
It had been weeks since the newspaper interviewed me and sent out their Pulitzer Prize photographer to my studio to do a story on inspiring artisans. I was one of five selected and boy, oh, boy how honored I felt.
Finally, after two months, I get the call: the story comes out on Sunday.
Well, the night before, I just toss and turn. What’s the story going to say? What about the photos? Which ones would they choose? How will this impact my business?
The writer was so supportive, too. Filled with an art passion and a skilled writer, I was thrilled to have her support.
I wanted to get the paper as soon as it was delivered to my house.
Around three in the morning, I glanced at the clock…again. I’d been waking all night, excited, wondering, giddy.
I turn over and try to go back to sleep. I doze and pop awake at four. Dammit!, go to sleep I tell myself. I slowly drift and bam 4:49, I awake again. Dag, might as well get up and just wait for the delivery woman to toss the paper on the lawn. Too, perhaps I can beg for some extra copies for my files, too.
Quietly, I slip from bed, grab my robe and slowly open the front door wanting to avoid its loud creeking sound which could awaken all in the house.
So there I am, on top of the steps, hair disshelved, looking back and forth up the street for the newspaper delivery lady. Nothing. I listen to the awakening birds. Still nothing. I consider going back in to get my glasses for I am truly blind without them but, no, I am too excited. Another ten minutes, it’s still dark although the sky is brightening…still nothing. I sit like a lil kid waiting and waiting for Santa Claus. Where is he with my gift of coverage?
The sky’s getting brighter now. More birds are chirpping. I consider walking across my lawn to the street to look up the block. I stand atop my steps seeing all kinds of blurred images because I left my glasses in the house. Nah, won’t leave the steps; can’t see too well. And the neighbors might see me in my robe.
I decide to sit back down. I get a glimpse at some rubbish that I suspect the wind blew against the bottom steps. Ahh, too anxious to get it now; will get and discard later.
Forty-five minutes go by and still no Santa Claus. What the heck is going on? The sun’s now up. More birds are out.
I stand tall, wide awake, determinedly more pro-active and don’t give a darn about what I look like as I proceed down my front steps a little miffed. As I reach the bottom step, I remember that clump of rubbish…but…wait…upon closer inspection…WHAT THE???…My blind self!! The paper was right there the entire time. I thought it was trash.
I snap up the paper like a mad hungry woman. So many parts to soar through. Damn, these ads; I chuck them aside as I turn and turn and turn pages. And, there, right on the front cover of one of the sections…there’s my picture used as a promo for the inside story. Wow! I anxiously follow the promo advise: story on page 33 and…sigh…relieved…there it is. A fabulous story highlighting me with four other artists.
The story highlights:
*My childhood years crocheting
*Features my artwork
*Highlights the forthcoming launch of an Artist Business Alliance
*Next steps in partnering to use my art for therapeutic work in healthcare facilities…hospitals, nursing homes, rehabs
Yes, Santa Claus did come with a wonderful early, early, early holiday gift.