QUESTIONS & ANSWERS
Installment #3 | Friday, July 2, 2021
Hi Substack friends. I hope you enjoy this question and answer series, which I hope to post weekly, on Fridays. It means the world to me to have you here, so thank you again for joining me, and thank you for providing these great questions.
Thank you to Danny J., who initially asked this question and to Chris G., who said he was curious about the same thing.
I enjoy your storytelling, Facebook posts, book and For the Record. Would you share some words about your art art, e.g. the medium, personal symbolism, etc.? Enquiring minds!
Dear Danny,
Thank you for asking about my attempts at making visual art. I have always been someone who is drawn to visual art and am in complete awe of those who have the talent to bring an idea from their mind or even what they see in front of them to a physically visual fruition. I have always doodled around but never took any kind of art lesson beyond what I got in public school (the private one I attended from 10th to 12th grade didn’t have any art at all - go figure) until I was in my thirties. While living in New York City (pre-John Henry) I enrolled in classes at Parsons School of Design every time I had the chance. I took Introduction to Drawing or something like that during the spring of 2006. I was terrible. The professor knew I was and so did I. But I showed up every Sunday morning for eight weeks and learned a thing or two about loosening up at least — as my friend Adam Landry said once, “It can’t be loose if it’s uptight.” He’s a genius. We painted live models on several Sunday mornings and I ended up painting a figure that’s actually hanging in my house right now. It’s the only thing I painted that was even halfway decent, and that’s because it has life in it. For some reason that morning, I could make my hands catch a curve.
From there I enrolled in a Fashion Studies course and ended up getting a certificate from Parsons, which means I took a fashion illustration course. That taught me how to recognize a line. It’s still a struggle for me to draw a center line and make it move, but at least I can spot one when I see it done. That certificate means I know how to make a pattern and how to run up a garment on a machine as well, which I enjoy immensely but haven’t really done since I became a Mama. Every now and then I’m moved to make myself something and I keep whispering to myself that I’ll build up my stash again, pull out those notebooks detailing how I need to extend darts on commercial patterns to fit my long-waisted shape, and listen to the voice in my head (it actually belongs to my Mama) say “We can make that” when I see something simple that I like. We’ll see what the coming years bring — sewing is hard work. I do still hand sew a lot — usually Alabama Chanin kits or embroidery or needlepoint — so now you understand it’s hard for me to keep my hands still.
So that’s all to say — I am suffused with the desire to make things. When I don’t have anything to sing or write about, I figure out how to create in other ways. And here’s the good news about that — it all involves rhythm, tone, eye, and ear and each endeavor informs the next.
The drawings that I do for my Wednesday blog are something that I started two weeks into 2021. Because I post the blog on social media, I always needed an image to go with it and I got sick of posting my face or trying to come up with something that would catch eyes that wasn’t my face. I wanted to say more than just “here are some blue eyes you’ve already seen ad nauseam.” So I thumbed through the Frida Kahlo diary one cold morning in January, then pulled out my oil pastels and just started scribbling what was in my heart. The crest that ends up on my drawings most weeks is a representation of what’s inside it being protected and close to my heart. Then I just go with what I feel beyond the things I usually include on almost every drawing which are a third eye, which represents perception beyond regular sight, wisdom, knowingness, and higher consciousness; a heart, which is a heart; the hobo symbol representing the words, “this is the place;” and always vines and greenery to tie it all together. I usually smudge it to my heart’s content too — that’s the wonderful thing about working with pastels — they are forgiving when you blend them. I’d love to really learn about what I’m doing and am always planning on taking You Tube lessons in all of the things I love — charcoal, watercolor, and yes, these pastels I’m so taken with currently. Haven’t gotten there quite yet. I will.
I’m thinking of doing a set of cards with some of my favorites from this year’s blog for holiday shopping on the store — y’all let me know if you think that’s a good idea — maybe we’ll do a survey of your favorites.
I hope I never get discouraged from my scribbling despite my knowing I’m no good at it. It makes me happy to do and it has meaning for me — so I suppose that’s good enough.
AM
02 July 2021
Ah, the New York days...laying groundwork that we still benefit from today. Your thoughts and photos from that time still ring in my memory. I think if you weren’t so successful you would have become a “professional student” as we used to refer to people who had such a hunger for learning and creating they could not be stopped. Even with full time jobs and family, they keep going back for classes. I have loved and delved into each and every pastel you’ve put out to us. They’re like puzzles and they hold the answers within if you just look. Thank you for some of the explanations. To say you can’t paint or draw is ridiculous. You’re so incredibly talented in everything you do, a true Renaissance Woman. I know if your Mama was alive she would STILL be making clothes for you and with you, for the stage and for home. Especially for JH, when he was little, I’m sure.
PLEASE put out each and every card. As a set. (The only problem with using them as thank you cards is the USPS tends to mar the cards in transit.) They’re just too precious to be ruined. At the very least, please offer us the option of buying all of them in a set if you do make them thank you cards.
Your mind is a fascinating thing, Ms. Allison Moorer. Brimming with creativity that cannot and will not be silenced. We are all so thankful for that! JB
PS: The Autotelic is such a breath of fresh air, candor and a welcome break from Social Media. Don’t give it away for free for too long. Thank you.
One of the things I love most about you, Allison, is that everything that comes out of you comes from your heart. It's something I can feel and since I've always lived my entire life from my heart center, easy for me to recognize and resonate with. Thank you for being that clear channel of love!