Hello! Supposedly this is the last day of my Easter art show. In reality I cut it short because of the newest stay-at-home order. The good news is, you will still be able to visit in a month or so. I am also keeping my online gallery up to date regarding what is sold and what is still available.
Here is an interview about my work by fellow artists, Charles Hackbarth and Marc Cohen:
I would like to invite all of you to make an appointment to visit my studio this Christmas season. I don’t normally have a Christmas studio show but these are hardly ordinary times! Masks will be worn, distances kept, halls decked. I have been working on new painted beaded relief carvings both large and small and there are a few 2021 calendars of my work for sale. Scroll through my online gallery to see what work is available. December 10-24. Email for an appointment: LynneMcilvride@icloud.com
Hello!! Time to make an appointment to see my work on the Uxbridge Studio Tour weekend, Sept 19-20. Email me as soon as you know when you would like to come, how long you would like to stay (15 to 50 minutes) and how many are in your party. Here is the Uxbridge Studio Tour webiste. There are over 40 wonderful local artists: some will be participating only virtually and the rest by appointment. Masks and distancing inside, social distancing outside. See my other post, “How to Visit an Artist”.
Being a fool myself, I suffer them gladly. You might say, I’m a bit foolhardy.
I’ve told this story many times to many people who have needed to hear it. I have been trying to write it down for years. The following is the story of Billy Parker:
Seven years ago, I was drowning in grief for the loss of my 27 year marriage and had just started living very much alone in my little cottage with an art studio steps away. I loved the place immediately: it was the perfect place to weep and I wept it clean. I remember eating toast alone every morning, afraid I would choke on inhaled crumbs as I gasped between sobs. I had just one week earlier finally taken off my thin, miss-shapen wedding band and placed it on the nail that held up a calendar, stuck on an earlier month. I hadn’t laughed in months. I was quickly getting to know my new neighbours who share my driveway, a thoughtful and caring couple of retired teachers, who I will call Al and Wendy Nees. It was a very snowy early March, about 5:00 in the afternoon. The stage is set.
A knock on the door. I was surprised to see a strange little man, head angled forward, smiling with unbridled enthusiasm. He looked wiry even through his dark winter clothes: a friendly jockey; a hungry garden gnome. His voice was loud and enthusiastic. Hi! I’m Billy Parker!I‘m cycling cross Canada (in the snow, remember). I depend on strangers for a place to sleep.Just one night each place. I’ll be gone before you’re up.You can look me up on the computer! SOMEBODY’s writing a blog about ME! He sees I am looking slightly uneasy, confused… Now…I know you’re a singlelady(he says this as if it’s one word) —I can tell by your car……. so I’m not going to ask to sleep in your house but….what’s that building? That’s my studio, I said, wondering what else my Pontiac Vibe said about me. I was just about to go do some painting. Well, it’s perfect for me.Just need a roof over my head. Got my own bedding and food. I’ll be gone in the morning. I just need you to help put my bike inside. I looked to see that Al and Wendy’s cars were both in our shared driveway and I thought, well….he is either a crazy man or an angel sent from God. His smile disarmed me and I chose angel. “OK” I said. I helped him put his heavily laden bike in my studio thinking if he was a lunatic and committed a crime, his getaway vehicle would be a bicycle in the snow…and I felt safe. Now I can’t pay you, but you can take my picture, he said, smiling as if he had given me a gift. So I did–and I turned up the propane stove and as I left, I said “is there anything else you need?” Well, I could do with some grub, he answered quickly, ignoring what he had said earlier about having food. I gave him the choice of spaghetti or steak and he chose steak with a pure and childlike joy, astonished at his own good luck. I told him to come into the house at 7:00 when I planned on asking Al and Wendy if they would like to join me for a drink. I wasn’t sure I wanted to be alone with this holy fool but I sure wanted to hear his story!
Now unbeknown to me, Billy had stopped at every other house on my country road including Al and Wendy’s. Wendy doesn’t miss a thing and I can imagine her mortified look as she and Al followed the crazyman with their eyes from their house to mine. Al! Al! She’s letting him stay! She just helped him put the bike in her studio! What are we going to do? He could be dangerous! What is Lynne thinking?! When I shyly phoned to see if they would come over while Billy ate his steak, I was surprised at how quickly they said yes and how relieved they sounded.
So I made Billy’s supper with the last steak I had nicked from my ex’s farm. He, Al and Wendy met at my house at 7:00. We all sat around my hand-painted table. I put the steak before him with a salad on the side. He drank the wine I offered and for the next three hours proceeded to tell tales of his travels so tall I laughed the entire time at the absurdity. I couldn’t stop laughing. Let’s see… there was the time he stayed the night at a butterfly collector’s house but none of the wings matched. He met a counterfeiter of Canadian tire money and also a prostitute who accepted Canadian tire money. This went on and on. He didn’t stop talking even to eat until finally Wendy stopped him and said, “ Billy, Lynne has made you that nice steak and you haven’t touched it for the last two hours. Are you going to eat it? His reply was mysterious and in my new frame of mind, hilarious. He said Nope not yet. I’m just going to drink wine and talk and when I go back to Lynne’s studio to sleep I’m going to bring the steak with me and cut it into strips with a pair of scissors. Then he looked at the salad and said, and I’m allergic to that green stuff. Then he told stories for another hour and wish I could remember them all. They were crazy tales and I laughed and laughed. I felt under a most hilarious spell. I do remember taking my attention away from him for 5 seconds to ask Al something and when I turned back to look at Billy, he seemed to have fallen asleep sitting at the table until it was his turn to talk again. Just before he was ready to head out into the studio with his scissors and steak, he leaned back in his chair, looked around and said, In my travels I stay at a lot of different places. I stay at some normal places and some weird places. This is definitely one of the weird places. I’m not sure why he said that: it could have been my slightly unconventional decorating or it could be the large series of tornado art-constructions in my studio. Regardless, I found this too hilarious. He thinks I’m weird?! Looking back I felt honoured. He was true to his word and left in the morning before I was up after having coffee with Al and Wendy who still now rise hours before I do.
I can’t say I recommend my course of action to everyone. But in this instance I am grateful I let this fool stay. I thank God even now for this gift. I never before (or since) laughed so much in one night and this laughter broke down so many roadblocks and walls, disarmed ogres, made demons flee….and started a very nice friendship with my neighbours.
Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.
I feel great about this new scupture. It was a probem: I made a double sided painted relief scupture in my “Epiphany” series and I couldn’t figure out how to display it. Then I remembered my domestic tornado series and the epiphany is now dangling beautifully from a twister that is piercing through my ceiling. This feels completely appropriate. The domestic tornado is made from my clothing, ripped and re-pieced and covered with embroidered pleas to God for help. It was done a few years ago when my personal world was torn apart. (more here) Now that our poor world is coming apart at the seams, my tornados have a larger purpose–or at least they describe a larger thing. So now this pleading twister carries with it one of my “Epiphanies”– work that I see as a messenger of hope; a small point of light in a dark sky.
I am happy to be showing a mixture of my work at The Second Wedge Brewing Co, Uxbridge Ontario. It is up now and will continue to November 3. I will be having a reception for the show on Thursday, October 24, 6:00-9:00. Dawna Huizenga will be my musical guest for the last part of the evening.
When I found out the owners of The Second Wedge were storm chasers and tornado lovers, I knew I had to resurrect my tornado series to mix in with my newer work. The following is my artist statement written 5 years ago about this series. I called it “Spin”: Weather is such a powerful metaphor for human emotion. And that writhing weather monster, the tornado, is a particularly apt way of describing the trauma, the fury, the intensity of loss. It’s hard not to take a tornado personally: it gets to the point by narrowing down and strikes a specific spot. It comes out of the blue. We don’t know what hit us. We are caught in a whirlwind of emotion. Everything is up in the air. There is no emergency plan for these twists of fate. To put a positive spin on it, a tornado (that snaking shape-shifter) is just energy. It makes a long-winded metaphor that lasts and lasts because it wrecks and then absorbs whatever it touches down on. What starts out as an emblem of emotional devastation contorts into an expression of fury and then is reborn as a metaphor for unstoppable creativity, play and passion. Like the flowering cross, can it become a cornucopia? Blooming tornados! Elijah goes to Heaven, Dorothy goes to Oz. One thing for certain is this: we are pulled out of our orbit and dropped in a different place, undone.Here is a link to a video Steven Frank created a few years ago of me talking about the tornado series.
This show is a mix of old and new work, the newest being my carved relief sculptures. I call this ongoing series my “Epiphanies”. The following is my artist statement from that series: I’ve always loved symmetry, especially imperfect symmetry where pattern is revealed and then lost but still the intention of the pattern remains. I am drawn to the shape of the equilateral cross with its reference to life and death; arm-stretching cosmic hugs, whirligigs and flowers with stillness at their centres; the crucifixion and the flowering resurrection. My friend and I were talking about the small epiphanies of childhood—instances when we sensed an invitation from God: the mysterious comfort of a statue of Virgin and child along a well-frequented path; wind animating treetops; a song about the Magi breaking into a child’s sad night. As I do these small dense painted carvings, I realize they represent hints of hope: modest epiphanies. They allude to those moments that happen in the blink of an eye, brief and easily missed…but if you manage to pay attention, life-changing.
Lynne McIlvride …… Storm Seller; Relief Worker
The following is a Confusing Price List:
There is a similar price list at the actual show with arrows which are helpful. Basically the relief wood carvings that are still for sale are enlarged. Otherwise they are already sold.
Thanks so much to Lesley and Michael, Rob and Joanne for all the help hanging the show!