A monthly
newsletter
Celebrating the
artistic endeavors
Sasha Wolfe
Fine Art & photography
INTENT: To share
stories and thoughts of being an artist or any creative passions; to initiate
dialog to pursue what we experience through life and discuss some of the issues
that we strive to overcome in personal and professional life. It’s an effort to
strive to be a good person in life and follow the heart’s desire. Why do we do
what we do? What drives us and how does that affect other aspects in our lives?
Date: February 5, 2014 Volume:
4
Greetings, Everyone,
As I sit writing this, we are getting a first major storm
of the month. While the snow makes everything clean and fresh, I am
disappointed to have it on a Wednesday. A small group of artists get together
for breakfast on this midweek day and we really look forward to the camaraderie
and great conversations.
These weekly breakfast dates have made me realize how
important it is for like minded people to get together for a nice meal and
connection. It’s especially true for artists who spend a lot of time in
solitude doing their craft. There are some weeks when this is my only time out
of the house and face to face contact with other human beings. Yes, we often “chat”
through Facebook and e-mails, but spending time with others in person is also
important.
What is most interesting about this group is that we are of
different disciplines. There’s a potter, three of us do photography, a painter,
one who does pastel drawings, and writers. Some of us do work in more than one
medium. Once in awhile other artists join us. It’s a wonderful time to talk
about what is being worked on, having show and tell, and sometimes we just
discuss current life issues.
We are very supportive of one another and we most always
come away being more inspired to get back to our art… whatever form our
creativity takes.
Enjoy and Thank-YOU!
Self Esteem and
Art
I am reading a biography on Anne Sexton and two weeks ago, I
read one on Grace Metalious of Peyton
Place fame. I am intrigued by biographies, especially those of artists. What
these two women had in common, as with Sylvia Plath and many others, is that
they were successful at their crafts and yet, in the end, they committed
suicide. (Metalious drank herself to death.) Their plight and those of many
others who followed dreams, stepped away from what was expected of them, and
suffered the consequences of “being different” is an intriguing study.
There has often been a connection to insanity and artists;
Van Gogh and T. S. Eliot to name a couple of men. (I personally think Picasso
was a bit mad.) This subject particularly draws me in because there was a point
in my life where I wanted to end it all. I’ve often felt a little crazy and I
am often saying “if I didn’t write, I’d die or go crazy or worse.” Inside is a passion
to follow something that sometimes can’t be described. It’s a burning yearning
desire. Then there are the societal and family edicts that dictate one must
work to support family, pay bills, put bread on the table, etc. There are those
who believe that art is only a hobby. Women especially have been regulated to
specific roles and to break away often brought the wrath of community and those
around her. Heaven forbid she not want to be a wife and mother. (Thankfully
this is getting more acceptable.)
As I continue in my quest to define what that creative
passion is and how it affects an artist, I am always drawn to the metaphor of
fire. That “something inside” that defines a creative person is a flame that
burns deep and it doesn’t matter what form the art takes whether visual art,
the written word, or performing arts. That flame simmers and aches for release.
The artist must keep the fires fed to be healthy.
Criticism and ridicule pour water on those fires. Pressures
from society and family who don’t understand the artist dampen the flames. When
the fires are not allowed to be clean, the flame turns to ashes and dust. I
know my family always meant the best for me. They could not see that an artist
would make a living from art. Messages get confusing. On the one hand, my
beginnings were celebrated, but on the other hand, it was always stated that
art could only ever be a hobby. I always felt I was being forced into being
someone I wasn’t. Then again, I didn’t know any better at the time.
I don’t know if it was the deep down artist in me that made
me “different” from my peers, but I grew up with few friends and felt outcast
from most everyone near my age. I just didn’t like what other girls were doing
and they did what most kids do to the ones who don’t fit in. It feels like my
entire school years were spent with being called names and being left out.
(There was that part of me that didn’t care.) I grew up feeling there was
something wrong with me.
Adult relationships fed my lack of self esteem. I finally
began to rebel at the roles I fell into and as the children grew older, I pushed
to rediscover who I really was. It was creativity that gave me a ladder out of
the deep darkness of despair. Words, poetry, writing gave voice to the fires in
my soul and when released, I felt a blossoming. However, the many years of low
self esteem had taken its toll.
I heard an interview with Delta Burke after the Golden
Girls was hugely popular on television. Burke talked about her fears every time
she went in front of the camera. It shocked me that celebrities struggle with self-doubt
and then reading biographies, even after gaining fame and success as writers,
artists, actors, people still suffer from self-doubt. I feel I am in darn good
company.
Note: I didn’t
intend to ramble on about my past, but every time I tried to change it and
often by getting up and doing something else for a bit, I’d come back and those
words would continue. Guess this means it wanted to be written.
News:
Extensive updates were made to
my website in January. I still have many photos to upload myself. Pages were
also made for purchasing photos, drawings, books, and hand knitted scarves.
Check it out at www.sashawolfe.net.
Plans for this include a photo
contest at the Library Arts Center in Newport on February 8. Also, I will be
submitting four pieces to the Annual Spring Show at the Jaffrey Civic Center
will run from February 21 through March 22. Opening reception will be Friday,
February 21, 5 - 7 p.m.
I am back to working on my book Too Cold for Alligators about the trip I
made last winter. The goal is to have it complete within the next four months.
Book Excerpt
On to Martinsburg, West
Virginia
Back on the
highway, the speed limit fluctuates between 55 and 65. Away from the city and
with lesser traffic, I try to look around. There are a lot of bare spots like
trees have been cut or thinned. There is one big snow-covered hill with the
bare trees sticking straight up like a bunch of plain poles on a white background.
The only trees that appear to have branches are the ones along the top ridge.
It looks really weird, like there’s something wrong. In other places the ground
looks all dug up and messy. It makes me feel uncomfortable as if something
terrible happened here. There are miles of this… ugliness. It’s disturbing and
unnatural. I wonder if it has something to do with mining. It isn’t pretty. I
can’t wait to get through this area.
The highway climbs
and the ugly scenery gives way to more openness. The road is cut into the side
of the mountains. On one side is the rock rising so high I can’t see the top
from inside the truck. I chance a look to the other side and the views drop way
down; miles and miles across flat valleys and then up more mountains in the far
distance. I can’t even guess at the distance; feet, yards, miles… hundreds? The
road goes up and around a corner and a different vista is presented. Oh, to be
able to stop, but there are no pull offs on this highway.
Then it’s down,
down, down. Traffic ebbs and flows. I keep looking at the thermometer in the
truck waiting for the outside temperature to rise the further south I travel.
It gets as low as 10 and as high as 20 degrees, but still very cold. Twenty
miles before Harrisburg there isn’t any more snow and the scenery changes to
farmland with rolling hills and beautiful, huge farms with gigantic silos.
Acres and acres of open country dotted with fences and homes and barns. Some of
the buildings are built from stone. Absolutely gorgeous country and here I am
traveling at 70 mph with little time to enjoy. The Susquehanna River is crossed
in Harrisburg. I debate about stopping early for the night so I can explore
some of these farms on the morrow, but it’s too cold. I am eager to get into a
warmer climate.
Current art work exhibits:
I have five
photographs on display in Goffstown, two drawings and two photographs at
Sunapee Lake Massage, two drawings at Z Pharmacy in Newport and photo notecards
at Newfound Grocer in Bridgewater.
More photos have
been posted to my online sites.
See more of my work
at:
On Facebook at
Sasha Wolfe Fine Art & Photography
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