Well, folks, da-ta-ta-da, it's finished... My first experiment with
the painting style known as "trompe l'oeil", the French phrase for "fool
the eye." Really fantastic, seasoned trompe l'oeil artists can create
works that give the viewer such a convincing sense of reality that one
feels as if the objects can just be pulled off the shelves. I'm not at
that level yet, but I am fascinated by the pursuit of making things come
alive in a very different reality through paint. The first baby
quilt for Twin A (we thought about calling them Twin 1 and Twin 2, but
it just sounded somehow wrong) is finished, and I will be displaying it
just as soon as I can. I have this REALLY annoying character flaw
(among many) and this is that I don't ever remember to bring a camera to
ANYTHING! So, here I am at the baby shower for my first
granddaughters, and of course, no camera. My daughter-in-law has
promised me pictures though, thank God one of us has a practical head on
her shoulders...I figure that I put well over 100 hours into it, but it
was well worth the time. I am the casserole queen, perhaps not
the prestigious title in the world, but at least I'm the queen of
somethin'! Tonight's offering is one of my favorites...one of those
"throw whatever's in the fridge and hope for the best" recipes. Tonight
I sauteed some onions, some diced celery, and a chicken breast
together. I added a can of cream of mushroom soup, and about a half cup
of my homemade refrigerator salsa, which I admit is heavy on the
cilantro. I added some chili powder to taste, some pepper, some
parsley, and some powdered garlic, as well as some leftover rice.
Popped it into the oven at 325, and I'll top it with some leftover
cheddar cheese as it begins to bake. Nothing else much to report,
except that I'm still in the midst of my homemade Women's Studies plan.
The book I'm reading right now is not the most stimulating one I've
read, but it is a basic, nuts and bolts view of the history of women's
rights. It's entitled "Seneca Falls and the Origins of the Women's
Rights Movement". The thing that strikes me as I read about Susan B.
Anthony, Elizabeth Cady Stanton, among many others is that so few of
these women were ever working class housewives. They appeared to have
come mostly from privileged families. I find it interesting that they
were so passionately against a lifestyle for women that in many ways
they really didn't live. And I also think that in an age before the
washing machine and the electric range...well, somebody had to do these
tasks for them, and most likely it was a poor servant class of women.
But I'm only partly through the book, so perhaps this observation will
change. I'm also reading "The American Woman's Home" by Catherine
Beecher. Her sister was the famed Harriet Beecher Stowe of "Uncle
Tom's Cabin" fame. Catherine Beecher was the Martha Stewart of her age.
She wrote many books on how to effectively manage a home of the time,
and was instrumental in developing further education for women and
training teachers to move to the West. She was an anti-feminist,
believing strongly that the most important job for women was to create
stable, productive, loving homes in our country as a springboard to
create good citizens. Despite this arguably antiquated stance, much of
her advice is strangely pertinent even today. Just goes to show that
women are women-- whether they're in hoop skirts or blue jeans. I'm
looking forward to putting together a review of her book in the near
future. (Image: "Aunt Ethel's Shelf" Acrylic on Canvas, Cory Jaeger-Kenat, 2010.)
In the last couple of years, I've started to reframe my concept of home. I'm starting to think of it as a production center--rather than a consumption
center. This is slow going, because I grew up like so many of us out
there, in a suburban wonderland where milk and meat and cheese magically
came into the world encased in cellophane. The ironic thing is this:
my parents and extended family come from a strong farming background.
My mom is an expert gardener and my dad the consummate repair man and
carpenter, who by his own admission, "can fix anything but a broken
heart." I think as kids, my brother and I were far more interested in
Scooby Doo and riding banana-seat bikes than hoeing weeds, and our
parents just didn't seem to be bothered by that. After all, we were
children of the 60s and 70s. We watched movies about starships and
figured the cars we would drive would look a lot like George Jetson's.
And weren't they going to build us Rosie the Robot Maids, ready to serve
at our beck and call? It hardly seemed like churning butter was very
compatible with being part of the Brady Bunch. So...here are some of my projects in action. Right now, I'm harvesting tomatoes. Yes, those misshapen things ARE tomatoes, and tasty ones at
that. But I have no idea, why they look like pears with these long
peaked tails...I have been reading about ripening green tomatoes in the
house. It sounds like one effective method is putting them in a single
layer in a darker area of a room, covered with a couple of sheets of
newspaper. Fingers crossed, I plan to do that in a week or so, once I
gather all the green ones. We are thrilled to announce that
hubby and I are going to be grandparents for the first time!! I had my
boys as a teenage mom, and although I wouldn't trade a moment, it was a
rather bumpy road. Blessedly, my son and his lovely bride are not following my example. I've been working on this quilt, the image based on a childhood toy of
my son's. Imagine my surprise when that same son called with the news
that it isn't one grandbaby, but two! TWINS! So, needless to say, I'm
hustling to get this puppy done and start right away on another one.
There's just something so sweet about thinking about these lovely
children and stitching, one stitch at a time. It's not finished, not by a long shot. But this is my first adventure
into trompe l'oeil, a form of painting that focuses on illusion and
still life. You literally can create any fantasy environment on your
walls, using some of these techniques. I hope to get this piece
completed within the next couple of weeks. The little figures on the
top shelf will be the little figures on a wedding cake, and a china cup
and saucer will be added. I don't care for the salt and pepper shakers
behind the apron, and will be changing them. Also there will be either
some fresh flowers or some vegetables draping from the bottom level of
the glass platter. The color balance will also be refined and changed.
My paintings go through so much in process that I'm always hesitant to
show them before they're finished--because this work will look very
different once it's done. But it's been so fun--I just couldn't resist
giving you a sneak peek.
Well,
finally I'm back to joining you in cyberspace. Jeez--a month since I've
posted anything!! I wish I could show off new tan lines, shopping bags
from French Rivera giftshops, and tales of my mimosa-inspired
adventures...but my time away has been far from that chi-chi, dahling. Today,
I put away two containers of curried chicken for future freezer meals,
along with two batches of Tex-Mex breaded chicken fingers--also for the
freezer. I also froze three breasts plain for future use, probably cut
up in casseroles. I figure that the package of chicken I bought for
$9.00 will go for 6-8 meals. I'm sure that there are folks out there
that can do even better than that...coupons seem like such a bother to
me, and I don't do the warehouse stores...but I thought it was pretty
economical, just the same. Check out the book, "Fix, Freeze, Feast" by
Kati Neville and Lindsay Tkacsik. So far, every recipe has been a
winner at our house...and my hubby can be picky. I'm attempting
another cut to the grocery budget. My goal is to spend an average of
$30 a week for the two of us, including toiletries and extra
non-perishables here and there to put in the cupboard for 'just in
case'. We have a store in our town that sells dented cans and other
slightly 'off' merchandise, and I have sticker shock every time I go in
there--but in a good way, if you know what I mean! Last night, I made
goulash (a quick skillet dish of tomato sauce, browned hamburger, onion,
chili powder, and macaroni), a fresh zucchini and tomato salad,
courtesy of our own garden, and crockpot tapioca pudding. I roughly,
and generously, estimate that we spent under $2.00 a plate--if even
that. Yeah...this frugality thing is really making us suffer...chuckle,
chuckle. We
are still waiting for more of our tomatoes to ripen. Darn it, it's
hard to garden in a northern climate! This year I've learned: how to
make a compost container out of a garbage can, that tomatoes often have
'cracked shoulders' when they are left to vine-ripen too long, and that
tomatoes and cucumbers really shouldn't be planted together. Our
tomatoes turned into mutants this year and choked out every little trace
of cucumber out there... Last month, we received the stunning
news that not only are we going to be grandparents, but that we are
going to be grandparents of TWINS! I am embroidering a baby blanket for
each of these shavers, and having a blast doing them. I was taught how
to cross-stitch and such when I was about nine years old--and it's
still just as fun as it was then. (But I do think that bi-focals might
be just around the corner.) I'll post pictures of it when they are
done. Along with the five or six paintings I've always got going on in
the studio, it makes for enough projects to keep the days full. It's
weird, maybe it's an age thing, but although my art is still such a part
of me, it's becoming more of a companion now than a taskmaster. I'm
not so driven to get the shows, the accolades, the attention any more. I
just want to make good work, and live a good life. I know many artists
that reach this point, of just being happy, healthy people--but
unfortunately, the media loves to celebrate the Picassos, the Basquiats,
and all the others who live and die with needles up their arms, a
string of abusive love affairs, and their cars wrapped around trees.
Makes me think I might be a bit boring, but I'll take it. I
ordered a book for my recent birthday called, "Never Done". It's a
history of housework, that also includes many of the old advertisements
for products and appliances used in the kitchens of long ago. I can't
wait to get it...Lordy, Lordy, I'm such a wierdo.... (Image: "Sustenance #1" Acrylic on Canvas, Cory Jaeger-Kenat, 2010.)
I wrote this in response to a discussion held on a blog entitled Dreams
of an Everyday Housewife. The discussion, regarding the modern housewife
was thought-provoking and forthright, and I encourage you to check it
out. We have the feminists of the 70s (and note, there have
been other feminists in other time periods, even going back to the
1700s), to thank for really giving woman the power of career choice in
their lives. However, what the 1970s feminist did that was utterly
damaging is that they fiercely deprecated and devalued the woman's role
in the home. It's as if they thought that biology and eons of evolution
could be wiped away by simply donning a business suit. The feminist movement made several core assumptions that were not universally true. 1. That all women at the time were 'trapped' in the traditional housewife role.
The thing we need to realize is that many women went into this role
joyfully. Remember, they were survivors of World War II. They had seen
brothers, high school sweethearts and other loved ones killed in battle.
Many thought that marriage and settling down might not even be a
possibility. And after growing up in the "dirty 30s", a streamlined
kitchen with a modern fridge and all the other conveniences would have,
indeed, made a housewife's heart sing. 2. Following the traditional role keeps a woman from growing up and having a meaningful life. Many
of these women were the backbone of their communities. They were
powerhouses in charities, church functions, and politics. They were
actually around to discipline their children, and kept a close watch on
the other children in the neighborhood. My mother's talents were/are
enormous. She sewed all of my clothes until I was in high school
(including underwear), quilted, canned, gardened, baked from scratch,
and actually knew all her neighbors, just to name a few. 3. A meaningful life can only be found outside the home.
As a career woman most of my life, I can tell you that this isn't
true. How many of us have office jobs that suck the life out of us? And
what could be more meaningful than raising good, well-rounded human
beings and building a solid home for them? I believe that sometimes
feminists confuse meaning with difficulty. It is powerfully difficult
to deal with kids day after day, to feed them, clothe them, listen to
them, clean up after them. Those so-called menial tasks are hugely
important...and yes, meaningful. 4. That the feminist movement knew best for the next generation of young women.
In this belief, where they silenced the views of women who might want
to be homemakers, feminists stiffled women as much as the repressive
Freudians and other patriarchal institutions. 5. And lastly, that men hold women down.
Personally, I have found that many housewives run the finances in the
home. My husband gets an allowance, and he is truly happy with the
arrangement...as he loathes paying bills. My father was the same way.
Ironically enough, I think that my husband respects and honors me even
more now that I am back home. It seems like we have more quality time
together because we are not frantically, and wearily, cramming household
tasks on top of our already exhausting work day. I think this notion of
men suppressing women has much more to do with individuals, and should
not be a wide-sweeping label for the genders. Just some thoughts.
I am certainly not telling anyone what they should do. However, as an
artist, home business owner, and yes, proud housewife, I can tell you
that I've never been happier. Much of my art deals indirectly
with this topic, from paintings of retro hats, to hard-edged views of
the American Dream. It can be found at my website, Loud Colors online
gallery. A book that I am finding of some great interest is
"Radical Homemakers" by Shannon Hayes, that examines the political,
economic, and sociological aspects of working in the home. * One
more thing I wish I had added to this blog post. It is also important
that the majority of the suffragettes of the 1900s were fighting for the
vote, not for equality with men in the career sphere.
Type in the words "retro housewife" on youtube, and you might be in for a
surprise. There are a plethora of homemade videos out there, mostly
lampooning the June Cleaver-in-pearls-and-an
apron-waiting-at-the-door-with-the-pipe-and-slippers image we so
associate, for good or ill, with post-War America. I chose this
one because it's obviously made by young people who very likely have
never even seen an episode of "Leave It to Beaver." And the narrative
in the video is taken from an actual 1950s era article, which I believe
comes from "Good Housekeeping" and made the email rounds a few years
ago. It's a list of tips advising women how best to run their
households, and (*gasp*) "serve" their husbands. The clip is a strange
mixture of cute and cuttingly sarcastic, a brew of the Greatest
Generation meets the college Goth. You can almost hear these kids
waxing indignant whenever the camera is shut off, declaring "Can you
believe that people EVER lived like this?" Don't get me wrong.
There were gender roles in the 1950s that needed a bit of a stretch.
Repression and perfection were the order of those days...but my theory
is that it was more to be found as a message in the media than in those actual suburban neighborhoods. And the video did make me chuckle. But it also made me think. What's
the hidden things that are being mocked here? Could it be a
well-ordered home? A woman who cares enough about her husband to cook
his favorite thing for dinner? The very concept of giving to others?
Could one even say that it was mocking of women/wives/mothers in
general? Caitlin Flanagan, in her insightful and controversial
book "To Hell with All That: Loving and Loathing Your Inner Housewife",
comments about this same narrative: "[It] advises the housewife
to prepare for husband's arrival at the end of the day: to have dinner
ready, to minimize household noise and clutter, to avoid assaulting her
man with a litany of domestic problems and disappointments, and to
inquire about his day. There was a sense back in those innocent years
that a day at the office was a tiring event that required a bit of
recuperation: a cold drink, a sympathetic companion, a decent meal--all
of which, I suspect, functioned as a sexual tonic." Tonight I'll
have homemade Chicken Parmesan waiting on the table when Dave comes
home. Our evenings are cozily predictable, marked by good conversation
about daily adventures, favorite books, and curling up on the couch. My
husband works a dangerous job, and to me, it is a special occasion every
time he walks through the door. He even says, "Honey, I'm home!" If he
wore slippers or smoked a pipe, I'd bring them to him in a heartbeat.
Yesterday was one of those days. You know...those days where you're
running around like a spastic chicken working your tail off before your
real 'work' begins. I have my own art studio, and a home cleaning
business for people with special needs. And I just so happen to pride
myself on providing a thrifty, happy little home with dinner on the
table--even when I'm not around to putzy in the kitchen. And it
was the day before payday--the day when there are hardly any pennies
left to stretch. And, to top it off--it was HOT, already nearly 80
degrees in our little 1930s house. I looked in the fridge, and suddenly
epiphany(!), I had all the ingredients for a cool, colorful pasta salad
for dinner. First, of course, I boiled up some pasta in olive oil. We prefer the thin spaghetti, and sometimes angelhair. Easy peasy. There
was some cilantro in the crisper drawer that wasn't at it's freshest,
but certainly wasn't bad, either. I chopped up the rest of it with my
cleaver, which really needs a sharpening. It was worth it, though, I
love the lemony clean taste of cilantro!! Then the fun part, raiding the
icebox for this and that. I chopped up a couple of tomatoes, really
impatient for our garden ones to be ready. Chopped up an onion, and
some celery. Cleaning the fridge and cooking something (ahead of time,
no less!)--now that's the way to go. Some salami was sitting neglected in the corner, just begging to be included in the pasta party. The
dressing was simple, and something do-able for even the emptiest
cupboards. I took a scant 1/4 cup of olive oil, 3 tablespoons of
vinegar, some garlic to taste, 1/8 teaspoon of powdered mustard, 1/8 of a
teaspoon of basil, a pinch of tarragon, 1/2 teaspoon of salt, a
sprinkling of paprika and pepper. 30 minutes, and my sanity was
spared, and the leftovers gone! We served this lovely salad with icy
cold red grapes, chilled glasses of water with lemon, and the last of
the orange sherbet for dessert. Three cheers for the day before payday!
Home is sacred. And because it is a sacred place, I believe that we
create altars all over inside and out of it--sometimes without even
being consciously aware of it. The objects on the bookcase in our
living room all have meaning to us. The vintage print on the wall
epitomizes our view of the simple blessings of family. Dave and I were
certainly not in a good financial place when we bought this piece, but
we counted out the change we had accumulated in jars--we wanted it that
badly. The Korean bell and the Buddhist monk figurine are souvenirs
from my husband's world travels. I adore stones in any form...I believe
that they give a sense of being solid and safe. And the photo on the
far left is one of our son's marrying his lovely bride. Even the
bookcase has significance. I bought it as my graduation present from
college, one of the few things I've ever purchased on payments. I
wanted it desperately, because although I am a book fanatic, there is
just something about books behind glass, that not only makes them look
tidy, it also makes them look classy. This bookcase has been moved a
handful of times and even jostled around the back of a semi across the
country TWICE, and--knock on wood!-- the glass is still perfect. Here
is another photo, that shows just a minute fraction of our books. Most
of our books are still in storage. Some people look for houses with
guest rooms for visitors; we are looking for a house with guest rooms
for books! We fantasize about having a formal library with hunting
scenes in gilded frames and deep wing chairs. And considering my husband
devours classics and political science, a library with busts of the
founding fathers would be more than appropriate. We
are certainly not where we would have dreamed at this place in our
life. Life has thrown us a few curve-balls, and my husband nearly died a
few years ago of a dreaded MRSA infection. That infection devoured our
savings and really forced us to pare down to the basics. I look at the
painting on the wall, and I never fail to get a warm feeling, noticing
that the living room in the piece is also spare and uncluttered and
cozy, like ours. I know that we are not living big, like so many
Americans, but we are living well. And I know that the family in the
painting is close and warm, like ours. And I have just enough.
me pasta in olive oil. We prefer the thin spaghetti, and sometimes angelhair. Easy peasy.
go.
