Julianza, Inkling

I believe that art is a way of seeing the world, a perceiving and processing which might deviate from the norm. Deviation appeals to me.  It has been written that art is in the artist, not in the medium. I do not, however, "try" to see things in a "different," or "bizarre" way. I simply obey my muse, on pain of banishment or death.

My staff:  At this time, me.  I am a Louisville, Kentucky native, but grew up in Atlanta, Georgia.  I came to the mountains in 1993, living in Woodland Park, CO for about 15 years, then relocating to Colorado Springs.  I still miss living in the south. I am one of the few people I know -- actually, the only person I know, who states, "I LOVE HUMIDITY!"  I guess that humidity is in the eye (et al) of the beholder. 

Now, how I got from art theory to the subject or profuse sweating, I don't know.  Basically, I am a lateral thinker, which some find charming, and others, infuriating.  The circumstance has rendered me helpless in the face of multiple-choice tests, since all answers are definitely correct. As well, It is impossible to shut me up once faced with a Rorschak card (I will look up the spelling of that R word).   I am  the eternal student, and feel that I can learn from anyone. I always, always appreciate feedback and constructive criticism. Please see brief bio below.

"Dinner for One-Half," acrylic on stretched canvas, 22" X 28"

                                           
"Desert Rider," watercolor !6" X 24"

              "Lassitude," enhanced original charcoal drawing, 16" X 20"

MISSION STATEMENT FOR JULIANZA, INKLING:

To inspire and delight others, while remaining true to the self.

        My Business

Julianza, Inkling wasn't born yesterday, you know. Actually, come to think of it, IT WAS!  -- or may as well have been. It was incorporated just a few days ago.  However, the idea to incorporate what I do is an old one, lounging lazily in the subconscious, or sitting anxiously on the back burner.  I hope to gain your trust, my visitors.  My wish is for you to be happy with Julianza, Inkling, and to return often, to our mutual benefit. This business and its services are a part of who I am (an inkling, of course).  If you'd like more than an inkling, write and just ask me absolutely anything. Be warned: I might just answer!

Below is my "signature poem," according to friend and fellow poet Price Strobridge. It is a true story.

 IN THE PET STORE

"I saw a tiny rat, alone,

quivering in a cage.

"Is he cold?" I asked the employee.

"Oh no, just hungry."

 "Well then, why not feed him?"

"Oh, there's no point.

The snake will be there soon."

-- circa 2004

     Another true story:

This is how it went:

You applied the hardware

to the frames, hunching over

drill, screws, wire, and we

hung my art on dark walls.

As we did I thought of

starving children whom

supply costs could have

spared for one more day.

Shame paces me

like a neurotic tiger.

We hung more paintings.

I wanted to burn them all,

for you to understand that

my heart is not this small.

Around we went with placards,

ensuring each was straight.

Guilt ravishes me like

maggots marauding in

poisonous pink paint.

  -- 2008

            One Tongue

When I lived in the mountains

I stayed upstairs

where it was warm.

All six years.  I could see

only the tops of trees --

longed to view grass, bushes,

squirrels.

Strange: here in the city

on one level

I still stare at treetops

waltzing the skies.

It is ten degrees tonight.

Some trees are like giant

hairbrushes, some like

veiny piano-stressed hands,

and the pines -- the pines

are microscopic versions

of daggers that impregnate

my heart each night

you slink off to bed wordless.

I could move back

to the mountains

dream of green,

and greener, grass.

Absurd.

The other trees

tried to school me.

But there was such quiet,

so much sun, I went

temporarily deaf and blind.

I've had to re-learn

the tongue of trees,

their mystic braille,

transliterate dark arms

citing far stars,

assume the truth of winter

the tenebrous catechism.

  -- 2008

Brief Bio

Me, goofing off, Feb. 09: photo by Amadea, my youngest child.

  I was raised by two artistic parents. My father, Norman Shavin, was a journalist, historian and flutist.  My mother. Phyllis Grumet Shavin, is a homemaker, interior designer, and painter. At age 6, I began piano lessons; shortly thereafter I was "diagnosed" with perfect pitch. At monthly group piano gatherings, my teacher would show me off like a monkey (me, not her). I began composing at age 9, performing my first composition in public at age 11.

  I edited my high school newspaper and literary magazine, and was poetry editor of my college literary magazine. I am having a very bad hair life, but have been compensated by being blessed with nice toes. (Once, I took a picture of my foot, to prove it (possibly to myself) (available upon request only).

  I was chosen as one of two undergraduates to appear in my Emory University's  promotional brochure (accompanied by scholarship).  I attended the University of North Carolina, Chapel Hill, Emory University, and Georgia State University. While at Emory, I was honored to give a senior recital of compositions, with Ruthie Adams, a voice major.

  I have performed my compositions in Georgia, North Carolina, Colorado, Virginia, and Florida.  I currently am resuming studies with Ofer Ben-Amots (Colorado College), and most recently performed 25 pages of (commissioned) original music inspired by the poetry of Yousuf Zaigham.  This venue, which previously featured two compositions, is called "Classically Alive Music Salon", run by Abram Minzer. I teach piano in my home.

  I have have been juried into many art shows, some for charitable causes, and others, not.  Most recently I was selected for 3 local galleries as part of National Poetry Month (collaborations of poetry and art).  I have also shown at Smokebrush, Phantom Canyon, and The Paragon Ballroom. I participated in WomenBuild (to benefit Habitat for Humanity) just recently, donating my sales to this worthy cause.  I've had a few one-woman shows, and have taught art in an after-school setting. I have participated in reading (recording) poetry for the Blind and Dyslexic (recorded in Denver) and in an assisted living home for the elderly and/or disabled. I would like to puruse more of these activities.

  I am a member of Poetry West, a thriving poetry collective with regular workshops, and have held office as Co-VP and Salon Coordinator. I participate in readings constantly, was a semi-finalist in the 2006 Pikes Performance Poet awards, take part in slam poetry, recently performed in  "6 Women, Sixty Minutes," screech poetry to the background of acid-rock jazz, was a Manitou Springs Street performer (poetry) in 2008, and have been published most recently by Orphios, Gertrude Press, Snakeskin, and The Huge Underpants of Gloom. My chapbook, "The Snake Will Be There Soon", is available on request.

My other passions/interests include animal welfare, health and wellness, gardening, and the social sciences.  I donate a  percentage of all earnings to charitable causes. It is my belief that art can and should have a social conscience.

My best works of art are my three children.

           BAPTISM

My little girl loved drawing

disembodied faces in

sunny skies, but once,

she made a faceless

night scene, adding sequins,

so the stars shined.

She had even titled it,

making me very proud.

Big clumsy letters said,

T H  E  B I  G   D I  P E R --

and here I'd thought those

days were flushed forever.

I wished she'd gotten it right,

to impress the millions.

And then decided,

to heck with that,

because, in truth, I could see

the handle as a mother's arm,

and the bucket,

a baby's full load.

A ladle??? Childlike, I pouted,

“Who says!?”

This was the first of many

maternal conversions.

Children are a funky religion,

dipping you into places

you've never before

seen or smelled,

constellations all their own.

                      2009

(more to come)