That Vodou That You Do....

Yeesh -- this week's been SO slow at the shop. Today's one of those days where I keep checking the news to see if something's happened -- there's just no one on the streets in Benson. The bakery closed at noon-ish, even the bars have been quiet today. I've been having a great day tho -- that's the odd bit... the few people who have come in have been shopping their little hearts out -- but honestly, I can count the number of times the door's opened today on one hand!

The nice thing about the quieter days is -- I get lots done... I'm pretty squared away with all the PR stuff for next month's show and got a bunch of ordering done. The other nice bit about it is that you can listen to your favorite songs on repeat all day (which I tend to do) and no on knows! Today's pick has been Rufus Wainwright singing "Peach Trees".
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A few weeks ago, I mentioned catching a great exhibit of Haitian art that was showing at my friend Rob's gallery... I ended up purchasing a few pieces from the show -- including my first "installation," which was made up of a table covered in found objects with a chair suspended above it. I moved all of the work into the house on Monday -- and have spent the past couple of nights putting things together:

This is Alabama Vodou by Chris Lawson:

At the opening for the show -- I kept coming back to this piece -- I was amazed by the items on the table, which are things the artist collected. My father's family is from Alabama -- and something about this just kept tugging at me.

Hanging the chair was T.R.I.C.K.Y. -- and, to be honest, I'm living in fear of it falling. Each morning since I've hung it -- I creep downstairs in the morning expecting to find an utter catastrophe.

It's set up in the front room of my house -- and from the street, it looks amazing at night -- like the chair's just floating in the room. I love it.

I also purchased a painting of an owl done by a Haitian artist -- with the word "Jesus" scrawled across it's face, I forgot to shoot that, but will tonight.

Orenda helped curate the show -- she and her husband, Todd, have traveled to Haiti a few times and a lot of the work from this show was on display at a show which she helped create a soundscape for on the island. She gave me another of my favorite pieces to hold onto for a bit:

It's this huge case that's filled with pink and red shoes that washed up on the shores of Haiti... and it's amazing! The drawer holds several old combs -- also found in Haiti... they're all missing teeth and crusted with sand.

The case literally exploded in my car on the way home from the gallery (it's ancient) and those shoes smelled like nothing you could imagine -- it was crazy... I got it all put back together again -- but touching them all kinda freaked me out a little bit.

Sitting with the case are several glass bottle -- also from Haiti -- that contain photographs and random pictures cut from books. I wish I could show you what's in them -- they just don't photograph well.

I was really moved by this exhibit (obviously). One of the best parts of the experience was that a friend of Orenda's from Haiti, the Reverend Jean Luc Dessables, came to give a lecture as part of the exhibit. The lecture was great -- I learned a lot about vodou and how the spirits are such a party of people's every day existence... they are not what most Americans imagine them to be. I got a chance to speak with the Reverend at the opening -- and he was *wonderful*.

Right off -- he tells me that my name is a great blessing... that there is a vodou loa, or spirit, named Maman Brigitte and she is the guardian of the cemeteries -- a hot pepper juice drinking, swearing, sexual "hot" spirit... highly revered. Knowing this makes me feel MUCH better about my name --- since I've been struggling with the fact that my father named me after a horrible, homophobic, racist women with great breasts, who loves animals more than people.

We also talked a lot about how things in my life "burn hot" -- that others see me as always being cool and calm -- but that inside, it's like an inferno and things often rage out of control to the point where I feel like they're consuming me. Which -- um, couldn't possibly be more true. "You are a women of intense passions," is what he said. He taught me that, sometimes, when things are burning too hotly, I need to remove them from myself so that they can cool off.... and that I need to PHYSICALLY do this -- not just think to myself that I'm going to let it cool off.

So, he suggested that I write the things down that are huge in my life, things I feel like I cannot control and stash them away someplace where they can "cool off" -- which is what I've started doing. When I feel like I need some peace from something -- to not have it consume me, I write it down and wrap it in blue yarn and hide it away in this old blue coffee pot, which I'm now keeping under the vodou table. I have to admit that, for a few of the things/people I've put in there, it's actually working --- but a couple of them are still sitting front and center in my head.

I guess some fires just take a little longer to put out.....

Oh -- and I ended up taking the praying mantis home with me last night... he was still out there at 7pm -- just looking in the window. I boxed him up and set him loose in my garden, where he can feast on all the tasty little bugs that have destroyed my brussel sprouts. I like knowing he's back there -- and hope he hangs around for a bit.