Today's Women's History Month tribute goes to Janice Edgerton Griffin, an active artist and mentor whom I call "Aunt Jan." She was born and raised within the circle of my mother's family and the Winona, Ohio Quaker meeting. When I was exploring ways to shape the book about my mother's art, we reviewed her extensive collection of art books. I interviewed her in 2007, and we discussed how she and my mother became such passionate artists. I wanted to know how their background … [Read more...]
Women’s Stories Count and VIDA Keeps Track . . .
For women to make history, we must tell our stories and listen to each other. We must name names. We must count. When I promised my mother that I would curate her art and archives, neither of us realized how difficult it would be. I counted the paintings in her studio and the family collection, mailed a request for information to her collectors, and compiled a database of 1,200 works, out of an estimated 2,000 she created during her lifetime. I selected a representative 200 color plates … [Read more...]
Pork Cake or Persimmon: Women’s Stories Evolve
I've always found groups of women produce fascinating stories and brilliant solutions. Whenever I am in a transition, there are women around me in the same boat. We bond, magnetically –like Spanky and Our Gang– and the tide pulls us forth. There was an early writing group I dubbed Ladies of the Lake (LOL); then another, Great Ones (GO); I convened a series of Goddess Brunches to … [Read more...]
A Woman’s Century of Wisdom: Margery Binkerd Wells Steer
For the twelfth day of Women's History Month, I honor my maternal grandmother, Margery Binkerd Wells Steer. She was born on a farm in New Canaan Connecticut, August 29th, 1899. She died at her daughter's home in Merchantville, New Jersey on April 10, 1992. In her 92 years, she was fond of remarking how much change she had witnessed and participated in. She came of age as women won the right to vote. She … [Read more...]
An Awesome Mother’s Breast Cancer: A Difficult Daughter’s Redemption
When celebrities like Angelina Joli, Joan Lunden and Hoda Kotb summon the courage to speak openly about their breast cancer, they offer an alternative to fear, hopelessness and isolation. October is Breast Cancer Awareness Month, but for many, this awareness is year-round. My awesome artist-mother, Alice Steer Wilson, died of the disease in 2001. As a high-risk woman with high-density breast tissue (difficult daughter with complicated breasts), I've undergone MRIs, ultrasounds, genetic … [Read more...]
Summer’s End
When I saw this painting on Alice's easel, I cried. She was going to die, and she knew it. That's what I saw. My mother loved what she called "jumping off places" like this path across the dunes to the ocean. I couldn't let the painting out of my life, so I bought it and hung it in my studio. One day I was writing about the painting and I noticed that the two figures crossing the dunes resembled the two of us. My mother was shorter than me, and she favored red. I love blue. The conversation … [Read more...]
Ten Interview Questions for the Next Big Thing
I am happy to participate in this writer’s round robin after being tagged by the lovely poet Lorraine Henrie Lins (thanks, Lorraine!). After I answer the questions, I’ll tag two additional wonderful writers. What is the working title of your book? The working title was The Alice Book or OK FOREVER: Alice Steer Wilson’s Cape May. However, the real title – the one that will be printed on the book’s cover very soon, is Alice Steer Wilson: Light, Particularly. Where did the … [Read more...]
The Unblank Page
OK, it’s not going to take me forever to do this book, but it is going to take longer than planned when I last posted on this blog. My mother’s journals were not blank, unlike those left to Terry Tempest Williams by her mother. The green post-its (above) mark passages to return to, share, possibly use as a caption or quote in the book. I’ve hung the paintings on the pages, and they have begun to tell me what’s in and what’s out. When I walked Paul through the gallery that forms the first … [Read more...]
The practice of good-bye
I was chopping celery for dinner three weeks ago, when the chirpy Brit-Indian inflection of a BBC World announcer interrupted my flow: Technology Giant Apple announced the death of its cofounder Steve Jobs today. Why was Apple the subject of this sentence? As a Mac aficionado, I mourn the loss of Steve Jobs’ edgy spirit in this world, but as an Apple stockholder, I’m less concerned. “Technology Giant Apple” will survive, or not. I’m more interested in the way we speak about death, our … [Read more...]
I opened the box of sketch journals, finally
This vodka box of journals and sketch books has been sitting in the northwest corner of my studio for a long time. Although I logged them all when I inventoried my mother’s artist studio, after her death, I hadn’t been able to bring myself to examine them until recently. Before: Nice, neat studio table . . . with vodka box After: A table full of sketchbooks in chronological order . . . and a reminder from Mom to “RELAX”! Hah!Generic Cialis if … [Read more...]