Brothel's Going to Happen

This is a hint of things to come as I prepare for the show.

I've had it in my mind to have an art show based around the theme of a Brothel for about a year now. I stumbled upon a book by Irish author Nuala O'Faolain about the life of a woman by the name of Chicago May and the imagery within the pages of this book have blown me completely away. I've never really read anything quite like it in my life. Somehow, this author takes the glamorized ideals of the working girl and brings the realities of it home in such a powerful way that it makes me almost nauseous with sorrow for the women she writes about.

Well, I've finally locked down some definite dates with a local art gallery, the Andrew and Laura McCain Art Gallery in Florenceville, New Brunswick (Canada) and it looks like Brothel is going to happen. This is my first solo-exhibit based around unified theme, one I feel rather strongly about.

So, with careful and somewhat fearful steps, I move forward with this idea that almost didn't happen at all. Maybe it was meant to be?

The show is booked for the end of April and because there was some misgivings on my part about this show (for personal reasons) I had cancelled it back in October. But, as luck would have it, the dates have been held and reopened for me to do this... So, I'll be working day and night until then. It's pretty scary/exciting.

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In other new, our Women In Art show was covered in the local newspaper

(the Bugle/Observer) and I would have gladly provided a link to it here except that IT IS NOT ONLINE ANYMORE?? WHAT THE F*CK?

It's says it's temporarily unavailable, but it's been that way for months. It's not right. No, it's not. Sad, too, cause the reporter did a really nice job. Thanks Brigitte!

The Heart Wants What it Wants

(Again, poetry and artwork-such as it is-by Jody Noelle Coughlin)

She held the heart in her hands.

It was motionless and still.

She looked down upon it from up above.

Resting there, within her lap, it asked questions like a child.

There are no answers was her reply, for why you hurt the way you do.

She held it closer still.

Leave the questions for another day and rest inside my life.

She said.

Just rest inside my life.

She would not move to sever the glue from the sacred place where her heart grew.

It wasn't because she didn't love you.

It was a consequence, true.

And she didn't want to hurt in the places that she knew.

Where it grew.

Her love-for you.

She remained.

Motionless and still.

And the dead are all dead.

Just the same.

And the red are all red.

Just the same.

And the fire still burns.

And the trees still grow.

And the birds still sing.

And the world still spins.

And the heart still beats.

Just the same.

Rose Bud (Sold)

"Rose Bud"

Watercolor and Pen and Ink

8"x10"

Sold

This little number went at the opening Thursday night.

It's one of my newest paintings and one of my favorite newest...

And now someone else is loving it too.

Pictures of Opening.

Here we have some images from the opening Thursday night. It was a great opening, if I do say so myself.

Just one in the crowd.

Mother. Grandmother in the background.

Our daughter, Miss Olivia Coughlin, with drink in hand (non-alcoholic, of course).

This girl has charisma.

She worked the room, no problem.

Awkward Silence

I woke up this morning feeling like I swallowed glass sometime in the night... This is only phase seven of a week-long cold. I get one every spring. I knew better than to take our puppy for a long, long walk last week. That cold will bite you if you aren't careful! Bite it did.

I hung my paintings today at the gallery and oh, what fun I think the opening is going to be. I was a little nervous about it at first, but three of the artists were there hanging art at the same time and I can tell there wasn't much room for nervousness. If you get a bunch of women in the same place at the same time, there won't be much awkward silence.