TRACES

I've been mulling this idea over for a few years now. At least 2, when I snapped these photos driving around Memphis at Christmas.

There was something so sad, and strange, and wonderful about them, that I couldn't stop thinking about the teddy bears. I kept looking for memorials around town. I have tons of memorial images from the internet stored in folders on my computer. The pervasiveness of violence means that more of these seem to pop up every day and flash across the news.

I wanted to make one. When I told my mom about it, she thought I was a little nuts. Would I be perceived as deceitful or insensitive? I didn't think so. So I went to the thrift store, bought a lot of weird stuff, and constructed one in the privacy of my own yard.

Ok. Cool. Now that that was out of the way. Where to go from there? We were scheduled to have our School of Art staff exhibition opening for Knoxville's First Friday in September. This would be my chance to exhibit something unconventional, for a large audience, and document it. So I made two more and thrust them out into the world.

I got a great, positive response. (No one thinks I'm crazy, Mom.) I don't quite have my head wrapped around a statement for them, and I've got a lot of things to think about. People have given me many leads of others who work with / research these. I've been told to look at the ones from other countries. This is a huge subject to mine, and I'm looking forward to seeing where it takes me. Putting them in a gallery setting was step one. In the mean time, enjoy some fancy, white-balanced documentation.

*The number one question I seemed to get asked off the bat was, "Did I take anything from real memorials?" A resounding no. Everything is mine. I aged, arranged, dried, and made it all, and making something intentional look spontaneous is not easy. The only thing I did take was the Yard Sale sign. You can't fake those, and I politely waited until the sale date had passed. 

TRUSTPASSING

 I write here frequently about my love of signs. These pictures were taken in Memphis and Knoxville over the course of a few years. I'm always on the lookout for new and interesting ones.

The old location of Jimbo's Flowers on North Central Street in Knoxville.

Painted on the side of a dance lounge on Elvis Presley Boulevard -- just a few doors down from Payne's Bar-B-Q.

Opposite "NO TRUSTPASSING" in the same parking lot. This is painted on the side of a tax building next door to a barber shop. They really discourage hanging out here.

On the side of a convenience store in Knoxville. I love the look of the graphic masking tape letters.

You can see my first iteration here of the masking tape "NO LOITERING" sign. I was so excited to try it out, that I picked up the first thing in my apartment to use as a background -- an Andy Warhol show card.

I have a growing collection of  NO LOITERING and NO TRESPASSING signs. I seem drawn toward handpainted signs telling me what (and what not) to do.

I found NO TRUSTPASSING this Christmas. I had gone to Graceland with some friends earlier in the week and returned to Bellevue and Elvis Presley Boulevard with my camera to capture some of the signs. (And also to hit up the huge AMVETS thrift store.)  I passed the sign once and was pretty sure it said "trustpassing" but couldn't believe it. I believed it enough to dive into the neighborhood and go around the block to have a second look. There it was, plain as day. It was strange, and it made a lot of sense. I googled the phrase. Not much comes up. I was beginning to think that it was a one-off until I was looking through a William Christenberry photography book. I admire his work -- he is another Southerner, chronicler, and lover of signs. (I've had the pleasure of meeting him, but that's a story for another time.) On the right-hand page was a picture of a rusty 5-bar farm gate in Alabama with hand painted signs of warnings and bible verses. NO TRUSTPASSING jumped out at me. Still not the explanation I was looking for, but it was out there another time.

 I spent this weekend working on some of my own signs using found paper and spray paint. I'll post them here soon.

SIGNAGE

I found this while I was cleaning up my studio for our upcoming Open Studio Night. I was doodling signs from Memphis: The theater on Lamar, Club Memphis on Park Ave., and The Boom Boom Room on Thomas St.

LIKE FATHER LIKE DAUGHTER

My Dad recently posted about his search for the oldest BBQ pit in Memphis. He wrote about one of the contenders -- a restaurant turned day care center -- on his blog. The accompanying the post is reminiscent of the imagery I like to hunt down. Ghosts of the past. A palimpsestual pit, if you will.

If you happen to know of any older pits in Memphis, or just like BBQ, head on over to his blog. It just turned 4.

HOMETOWN

Have I ever mentioned I'm from Memphis? Because my pencil collection sure does.

TINA'S SOUTHWESTERN HAIR CARE

LOVE U

HI TONE

MIDTOWN IS MEMPHIS

COLLECTION

I've been out of the studio for a while. It was crunch time at Day Job and I took a much needed CabinParty HottubTime break in the mountains. I've got nothing new right now, so I decided to post some of my huge collection of photographs I've taken that inform the work I am making right now. I've been letting a post about how all of this makes sense in my head simmer for a while, and I want to post that soon. But to tide you over until then, here are some things I've been looking at.

IS IT TRUE?

GILDING THE LILY

I ended my Vermeer Day with a Barbecue Night. You can read all about it here at the Ghost Pit Chronicles.

GATHERING

This is all nothing new. But is anything anymore?

MY BOOPS

I like shoes. Boots in particular. It started when I was very young. With a pair of Winne the Pooh blue galoshes. I was so excited about them that I peed my pants. Right into my boots, or boops as I called them then. Luckily you can hose out rain boots. Now, boots are more like a costume. I have old boots. Tall boots. Practical boots. Tough girl boots. And fancy boots. I picked up this pair almost 5 years ago in Memphis. Last Monday I took them out to Pres Pub for a little Honky Tonkin' and two-steppin. We had a wonderful time.

MERRY & BRIGHT