Giving and Receiving

The cooler mornings that give way to warmer afternoons followed by cool evenings are a welcome relief this week as I spend it in the Hudson Valley away from my classes in the city. The summer session was one of the most exciting times I ever had. The energy from working with such eager students has infused my own painting projects for my show. The desire to be better is all an instructor needs, to have them give the world to a student, and it is all I needed to take my efforts to the next level. The next few days are filled with painting watercolors, oils and gardening before I begin a new summer session next Monday.

As I prepare for the show opening on August 20th at Cousen Rose Gallery, I am mindful of the many friends I have that has helped me get here today. I am currently writing a book that bring many of you who are reading this into my heartfelt memories. Some of you have turned the wheels of my life into the direction I now flow. A word or gesture is all it takes sometimes to aid a person's journey. Sometimes much more, like letting someone move in with you, paying for a college course or liking their love interest, which may seem small to the person giving it, but can make the difference in whether someone chooses to survive or not. We have all given and we have all received. Take a moment to remember those that gave and asked for nothing in return.

As my students from all over the world departed this past week, I was thankful for the rich cultural experience they gave me without even knowing it. In a classroom setting, who is the teacher and who is the student, is always the question of the moment.

There are those people...

There are those people who will come out and support you because of who they are to you and more importantly, who you are to them. Those cheerleaders that have your back whenever you need it because they realize that whatever success you have is their own, as well. There are those whose own dreams include the hopes they have for you, knowing they are one and the same. Your happiness is something they share with you, just as surely as they share your pain. When possible they act to further the former and soothe the later.

There are those whose way of showing their love is to be there when you call, whether they can be there physically or not, but are there, in such a spiritually supportive way, that you can feel their presence as if they were. Many of these people came out last night to support not only me but all the other artists in the African Modern Art Show. That included Mago, PJ Cobbs and the Bangally African Expo. We gathered last night at the Casa Frela Gallery for the annual fundraiser for Project Enterprise, the Harlem based funding source for under-resourced communities throughout the five boroughs.

The supportive crowd enjoyed the company of the artists and one another over drinks and refreshments to the melodious strings of the Kora played beautifully all evening as pictured below. The showing will be up until May 22nd at Casa Frela Gallery at 47 West 119th St. Please stop by when possible to see the exhibition.

The relativity of Spring

Last night a breeze from the open window poured over us like a cool drink of water, stirring the blades of the overhead fan and washing away the musty air out of our room, long closed up from the winter chill that pressed against it for months. In a night long embrace we re-synchronized our breaths to the sweet taste of the welcomed spring air - after Joe's week away working in Nairobi. The relatively warmer temperatures have opened the first of the yellow daffodils, acting as harbingers of nicer days ahead, as they dotted a still barren landscape, scarred by winter storms and heavy snows. Like gardeners, with the thaw, we turn our attention to the opportunities that the upcoming season offers, clearing away the dead and worn out and replacing it with the fresh and new.

The relative warmth of this nascent spring reminds me of how cold its been this winter, and yet these same temperatures seemed so chilly to me at the end of last summer, when the leaves turned colors too soon and the days shortened too early. But as every cycle completes and restarts we learn the lessons well and take them to higher levels with each successive spiral. For many of us, the natural cycle of a wintry downturn caused some flow of assets to freeze up, and reduced others to a trickle, forcing us to find new incoming streams that could soon turn into rivers of opportunity, in the promise of an economic thaw ahead. With each new blossom that opens, it carries with it a new day of hope, bright with the unfolding dreams we work so hard to achieve.

In many ways, the challenges we face are a better choice than those of other nations who have been ravaged to a greater degree throughout their troubling winters, and the relativity of it needs to be kept in mind, as we burrow out of our own. The possibility of an easier and quicker recovery seems to elude us, in many cases, because of political machinations seemingly designed to thwart growth for the benefit of the few over the many. The question of what type of government we want is bandied about, with the general intent of prescribing little or none at all. For those with resources, that may work, but for the relative masses that need support, it will not. As this spring unfolds, we must be vigilant of the crops that are unfurled before us to ponder, and work to clear the weeds that distract us from the clarity of vision we need as individuals and as a nation. The relative options may not be evident...with all of the growing misinformation creeping into our mindsets - but it is. And it is up to us to sort it out for one another and to take a stand for our beliefs.

On a positive spring note, please remember the annual benefit for Live Out Loud, the great organziation that provides so much assistance to LGBT teens in America. Their Young Trailblazers 10th Anniversary Gala takes place on Monday, April 25th, 2011, from 6:00 to 9:30 pm at the TheTimesCenter, located on 8th Ave at 40th Street. If you can attend, please do. If you can purchase an auction item, please do. If you can contribute, please do. If you can tell a friend, please do.

Aging Gracefully

I called my Aunt Lil, my father's sister, this week to wish her Happy Birthday on her ninetieth birthday. Many of us have relatives and friends in this age category if not older, but she is an astounding specimen in my opinion. First of all, she has never worn glasses, used a cane, had hearing or speech problems, neither has she suffered from hereditary diseases, loss of mental faculties or degenerative illnesses. In fact, she has never taken medication. She is certainly as lucid as anyone I know and maybe even more so than myself. She takes care of herself and her home in Atlanta, where two of her daughters share the house with her. She is as feisty as ever and still amazingly beautiful for a woman of any age.

When we spoke she said to me, “I went to see my doctor recently for a physical, and he told me he had to speak with me. And I thought to myself, ‘What’s wrong with me now?’ ” In her slight twang from Kentucky, that she hadn’t quite lost even after living in Japan and in the northeastern US for years, she continued, “Well Gleenn…he told me to come into his office and sit down. Then he said, ‘Mrs. Tackett…as you know I have been a doctor for many years…and so I have had many patients that are in your age group. However…I have NEVER had one that did not have at least something wrong with them that I had to attend to.’ She chuckled, "He then said, 'I can’t even offer you any medication because there’s nothing wrong with you.’“ Then she burst out laughing, me right along with her, about as happy and proud as I could be.

This kind of dovetails with what she said when I saw her about five years ago. She had told me about how once a doctor had given her some medication to take. After her return visit to him, she told him “’I don’ like takin' medicine.” The doctor asked her ‘Why?’ and she said, “I don' like how they make me feel…and then you run out and have to refill them all the time.” To which he said, ’Well, here is a larger prescription so that you don’t have to refill them that frequently.” She went on, “So I took the prescription, and when I got outside, I tore it up, threw it away and never went back. That was over twenty years ago.” Though I hope I have her genes, she is one of the few of her siblings that are still alive, so my goal is to take on the attitude that it is at least a possibility to live healthily into my nineties.

Our relationships with our doctors are partnerships where, if everyone does their part, to the best of their abilities, the results can be stellar. I often think of my doctor as a mechanic diagnosing the vehicle I call my body. He does the tests and inspections and shares with me what our options are. If I’m lucky, the recommendations will be mainly dietary or physical exercise, and in some cases, he may suggest medicines that maintain its ongoing balance and operation. There have been times in my life when the fuel and motor oil I've imbibed were less than useful nutritionally or times when additives I consumed were actually harmful. Over time I became aware of the general decline that comes with age and made corrective changes, like tuning up my chassis with yoga. Some of us are driving vehicles, like Aunt Lil’s, that just seem to hum along in relative ease, no matter what we do or how long they run. Others might feel like they have gotten lemons, that require patching, from time to time, getting a few more hundred miles out of it before the next time a tune up is needed.

In any regard, it is our spirit the drives the body, and gives it a reason to get to where it has to go. And like our mobile conveyance, so too, the spirit itself requires maintenance…like peace and quiet, rest and relaxation, love, affection and creative stimulation… in order to be a vital power source. In these pursuits we must be our own doctors and know when to give these things priority.

Versailles Models Remembered

Back in the day, like every young "fashionista", living for everything fashionable, we talked endlessly about fashion designers, models, photographers and illustrators, from our lofty perch at the WWD art department. With a front seat to everything new and cultural on the horizon, we were consumed with the impending showdown at Versailles...where five young fashion forward designers and their coterie of black models were throwing down the gauntlet to French counterparts, in November of 1973. The brainchild of Eleanor Lambert, the event changed the dynamics of the fashion world, by casting the American designers as creators of youthful style and energy. The distinguishing crux of this turning axis was the inimitable verve of the sashaying young black beauties, that re-calibrated that moment, in fashion, into what the future of beauty and style would become. Billie Blair, Alva Chinn, Pat Cleveland, Norma Jean Darden, Barbara Jackson, China Machado, Bethann Hardison, Charlene Dash, Ramona Saunders, Jennifer Brice and Amina Warmsuma - wearing Stephen Burrows, Oscar De La Renta, Halston, Anne Klein (Donna Karan was her assistant then) and Bill Blass - waltzed down that runway and into fashion history. Knowing they had won the contest between the American and French design houses, but unaware of how much they had truly recast the nature of the business, they soon found themselves and others on every runway and fashion magazine in the world, bringing cultural diversity and vibrancy to life, everywhere.

The historic significance of that moment was celebrated in high style at the Metropolitan Museum, through the tireless efforts of Donna Williams, our hostess and Chief Audience Development Officer, along with Thomas Campbell and Harold Koda. The light filled setting for the luncheon in the Temple of Dendur brought together style setters, designers, writers, journalists, celebrities and artists who shared an appreciation for these beautiful pioneers and what they had done. The American spirit was alive in the room, and reminds me of what we are capable of doing when the odds are against us. In a time when women of color were not considered among the beauty standards in fashion, the unexpected act of showcasing them as such, jolted the mind and filled the senses of the unsuspecting audience. America's ability to surprise the world with the new and different is a national strength that cannot be underestimated and is a boundless source of inspiration for others. As Oscar De La Renta remembered of that moment, "We were one that day." And as ONE, our ability to win is increased.

Donna Karan, Iman, Liya Kebede, Veronica Webb, Renauld White, Jason Wu, Ruben and Isabel Toledo, Sam Fine, Lynn Whitfield, Kathryn Chenault, Cicely Tyson, Veronica Webb, Audrey Smaltz and Soledad O’Brian were among the celebrants.

ABC Evening News feature on event.

What makes a person memorable?

What makes a person memorable? Is it the way they look? Or the way they sound? Is it what they say or don't say? Or is it what they have or don't have? Is it what they make you do or don't do? Or is it how they make you feel? What is it that causes us to hold onto the memory of those that leave us for a period of time or for good? We need to ask ourselves these questions because we will be left to the memory of others someday, and there will be no chance to prepare, alter or fix how that memory will be held.

From the moment we are born we begin creating the memory of who we are. That essence reaches out to the world, fashioned on our dreams and realities. Throughout life, others will attach their dreams to your reality, and give you the responsibility, in some cases, if those dreams do or do not materialize. The memory we leave behind is often based on how others perceive our role in advancing or inhibiting their lives. While we are alive, we have the ability to form our residual memory, for better or for worse. However, the moment we transition, that memory becomes the province of others, who will select the elements to illuminate. How we make someone feel is what will percolate to the top, and hopefully, we made them feel good.

The sad and unrelenting transition of our vibrant friend, Bill Freeman, on January 15th, as we flew in from Rio, hit us like dense turbulence from above, as we made our way back into our lives here. Left only are the memories of how he made us feel. How that warm smile broke out across his face whenever he saw us. How he warmly and respectfully introduced us to many people who are our dearest friends today. How he shared of himself, with a generosity reserved for kings. How his bountiful spirit was infectious, and one took up the cause of helping others just by being around him. Bill was on everyone's invitation list, not because he knew so many people, but for his gift of bringing them together. I remember running into him at a fundraiser, where I didn't know a single person, and through his many introductions, I left feeling like it was the best party ever. Many of us know the act of adjusting our plans to be available for one of Bills intimate dinners, for fifty of his dear friends, on the Vineyard. He could be counted on to be at weddings, christenings, birthday parties, openings and closings. He was there to give healing encouragement at one's bedside and to hold your hand through difficult times. He would be front and center, near or far, to honor a friend who had transitioned before him. He supported young and old alike, and could be counted on to be there if needed. These are the memories that he has left so many of us...and many of us do not know where we will turn without him.

Like so many of us, he could be faulted with human foibles....but those are not the things to remember about him, because that would say more about us than him. To pick apart the "rights and wrongs" of a person's life, is a favorite sport, when a person leaves us and are no longer there to protect, form and create their memory. We can, in our highest selves, embrace the best of the memories we have of others, or we can devolve into the temporal sport of debasement...the choice lies within us. One's memory lies in our hands once they have passed on, a role and responsibility we cannot take lightly. What makes a person memorable is what we chose to remember...and what we will be remembered for, as well.

Taking time, gives time

Huddled in the shade of the vine covered entrance to the restaurant, named Ramma, along with a long line of customers, patiently waiting to pay for the health conscious fresh food, we just had for lunch, I fumed with irritation about how slow every transaction in the steamy metropolis of Salvador, Bahia, seemed to take. The lovely preparation of diverse offerings, that I had relished only moments ago, had faded with the onset of my New York impatience. Calmly listening to my piqued rumblings was my luncheon companion, Carson Phillips, who had just engineered the signing of a contract, to have my work represented in Brazil by the famous Paulo Darze Galerie. A followup meeting the next morning with the noted David Bastos architectural firm, required a presentation in Portuguese be prepared in the waning hours of the day.

My hubris in thinking I had no time to waste in a line, where the single smiling cashier, engaged in polite conversation with each customer before me, should have faded in the quiet calm that existed all around me. I remember thinking that Salvador would be a better place if its residents were more conscious of others' time, if they would cut some of the red tape and layered processing and conformed to a more American model of efficacy. In my mind, a New York minute would not hurt the city one bit.

That was until I got to where my CD had to be assembled and printed and found that none of the files could be opened because of an incompatibility in software. After many tries, including running back home to retrieve my own computer and re-formatting every image three different times, we finally found a solution. After struggling with the issue for over three hours, the calm leisurely attitude, I had complained about earlier, turned out to be a cultural Godsend on that late hot summer afternoon. The tech guy, never grew impatient or bothered by the time it took to make it work. As the sun disappeared and the evening lights and sounds came alive, it made me realize something very important....patience is a grace you give others that makes your own life easier. My laments about how long things took, has been replaced with an appreciation of how the Brazilians spend time with friends, neighbors and passersby, sharing moments of joy that creates a sense of community and continuity with all.

We have had many opportunities to see the beauty of life in Salvador this trip. Now we are in Rio visiting friends. Below are a few photos of our time in Brazil.