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THE EVELYN SERIES

My aunt Evelyn was married to my father’s brother. She was an artist and in the 1930’s, lived in France, where she formally studied painting, inspired by the Impressionists and other artists of the day. She gave me a big coffee table book on Picasso, for my graduation from high school, which I took off to college. It is still in my library.

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And as I got older, I came to appreciate Aunt Evelyn more and more. I loved her quirky sense of humor. How she’d speak in a trill sometimes, when she was particularly excited about something. I loved her sense of adventure. The stories of her going off to Egypt to see the pyramids, to Kenya on safari, and the deep sea fishing expeditions, as she traveled the world.

A photo of the artist’s aunt sitting on a camel, with a guide and a relative nearby, in front of the pyramids in Egypt.

Aunt Evelyn, on the left, riding side saddle. Suitably attired in a skirt, heels, and a fez.

Aunt Evelyn was a big supporter of the arts. She loved collecting art and her home was filled with paintings, sculpture, and ceramics. She was actively involved in the Torpedo Factory Art Center in Old Town Alexandria, in Northern Virginia, during the early days of its founding. She encouraged me to take painting classes there and join their Art League, which I did.

 

As I matured into an adult, I saw Aunt Evelyn as more than my aunt, but as a mentor. I loved going to visit her in Arlington, where she lived, and to her home in Little Deer Isle in Maine, just to spend time soaking in her energy. I even housesat for her for a while, when I circled back to Northern Virginia for a few years.

 

By this time, she had moved up to Maine permanently. I made a couple of pilgrimages to see Aunt Evelyn and was always inspired to make some art while I was up there. In fact, I collected lichen off some trees on her land for my mixed media piece: Mark 9:47 (with Baxter's Eye.)  When I got home, I saw that I was short on lichen and wrote my cousin Mary, who lived near my aunt, to get her to ship some to me, so I could complete the background.

A view through the trees overlooking the waters of Penobscot Bay, at the home of the artist’s aunt, in Little Deer Isle, Maine.

Trees at Aunt Evelyn's place in Maine. The source of lichen for my mixed media piece "Mark 9:47."

Aunt Evelyn lived to be 94. I was living in Santa Fe at the time, but on the very day that I learned of her passing, I was back East and was visiting my friend Rita, in Long Island NY. There was a particular CD playing on the stereo at the time when my cousin Mary called to relay the news. It was playing in the background as I learned when the funeral was going to take place. I was grateful that I would still be on the East Coast and would be able to get to Virginia, to attend the funeral and celebrate Aunt Evelyn's life with the family. 

 

After the funeral, we flew back to Santa Fe. My husband went back to work the next day, and I was in bed, thinking about Aunt Evelyn, when a mockingbird appeared right outside the bedroom window. It had perched in a Piñon tree and started singing away. I had never seen, nor heard, a mockingbird around the house before. But this little feathered friend showed up and stuck around for several hours, chattering away, trilling, and just carrying on. I was so captivated that I shot a little video. I was convinced that Aunt Evelyn had come in this bird-form to say hello and good-bye, before she flew off into the spirit world.

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Later that day, I decided I was going to commemorate Aunt Evelyn by doing a piece of art. Maybe a portrait of her. Doing something with watercolors on Arches paper "spoke to me." So I went out to Artisan, the art supply store in Santa Fe, once frequented by Georgia O'Keefe, with its resident Burmese Python, and got myself some new art supplies.

A still life of art supplies used to create the Evelyn Series: Tubes of Winsor Newton watercolors, Arches paper and brushes.

Choosing a medium for an idea, that's still in your head, is an art in itself. The medium gives birth to the idea.

When it was time to start creating, I put on a CD of the same music that was playing on the day I learned that my beloved Aunt Evelyn had died. (I got a copy of it from my friend Rita.) I loaded up a brush with some orangey-yellow to start with her hair, but for some reason, I was guided to paint something else, something more abstract. The strokes became more colorful, more expressive, and more spontaneous. Then more colors were introduced: turquoise, rose, scarlet, violet, sap green.

 

When I was finished, I stepped back and saw that I had painted not a portrait of her body, but of her spirit. I saw that the shapes and hatching and squiggles and spirals were reminiscent of petroglyphs that I had seen in my wanderings around Bandelier and Mesa Verde. Sacred places where Native cultures believe that the spirits of their ancestors still remain.

 

I decided to keep going and do a whole Evelyn Series. Each watercolor was painted to the same piece of music. After doing 10 of them, I knew I was finished. And now, every time I hear a mockingbird, I feel Aunt Evelyn has come to say hello.

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HER TRILL IS A THRILL
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