That which binds . . .‏

A Lovely Letter from Sedona Artist Bev Jenai

Well Rudy . . .

The house is quiet again after help'n cousins fill in relative gaps, and my endless smiles while watching the many familiar family gestures of the "who's bad" walks and words of sassiness re-surface a couple of days ago.  My cousin and me have not been in touch for more years than I care to say . . . at least 20 . . . but . . . noth'n has changed . . . our love, our affections remain the same. 

My cousin's daughter especially brought back memories of me at her age . . . mannerisms and all.  We looked over a few family photos...and I remembered . . . Remembered my past self, as I took the liberty of continual glimpsing over at my 60 yr ole' cousin who sat across from me at the kitchen table, noting that she had yet to escape from the prisms of our past and whose Spirit appeared to be aging her beyond her years. 

When I offered her wine . . . she scolded me for not remembering that she dare not drink - and never had, after experiencing her childhood memories of the women alcoholics in our family.  My cousin's sadness dug a hole into my soul as I drew pictures around, and revisited her memories. I also listened intently as her daughter kept loudly tell'n her mother that she needed to find a man so that she (her daughter) would no longer have to assist in supporting her. 

My cousin is still a beautiful woman at 60, but she wears a brooding mood, and heavy drooping bags beneath her eyes.  Her pleasure . . .  her passion is in driving a school bus.  Vivid memories continued, and were re-traced as I listened intently to her memories of visiting our uncle in the country area of MI.  This is where most of the kids in our family were drenched with southern traditions, where our Uncle Mac kept decrepit farm animals; a one eyed horse that limped and always wore blinders, a huge dirty hog that we use to ride, and lots of chickens and mean roosters. 

My cousin told me of one of the traumas she had experienced there on the farm . . . of how she and her sisters went out in the yard one morn'n to find a hen tied up to a tree and how they had named the hen and lovingly played with it all day only to find it had disappeared later, and how it had been placed on the dinner table in front of them that evening.  She and her sisters were punished (probably with a switch) because all of them were boohooing and defiantly had refused to partake in the succulent meal placed before them . . .  this chicken had become their friend (smiles) . . . after all, how could they eat their friend. 

We both reminisced about having to trek to the out house in the middle of the night with full bladders that we had held as long as possible . . . a dreaded trip, while Aunt Lizzie held the flashlight steady for us.  The out house of course was always buzzing with horse flies and we don't know what else.   We think the out house was built exclusively for our Uncle Mac who weighed at least 350lbs. It had two gigantic openings (black smelly disgusting holes that lead to hell...(smiles) . . . Our terror of course was in falling in . . . which meant our arms often had to be held while sitting on it.  We both remembered how we preferred the big pot in the house.

The weekend continued with . . .

My friend Thereasa from the AZ Valley ushering herself in the next day . . . 4 hrs. late.  She never can come to visit me alone . . .  she always manages to bring a tribe . . .  a tribe of her girlfriends, a couple of whom I can now relate to as friends.  I always luv  see'n her face when she walks through the door . . .  she's always beaming with light always smile'n as she announces to her friends that are 1st visitors . . . "now I want yall to  know . . .  this is all Bev's art work on the walls . . . and check out her sculpting" . . . and then she proceeds to give them a tour of the house. 

She and her guest always come with bags and hugs . . .  bags of goodies which this time included Mimosa ingredients . . .  Mimosas which were to be served with breakfast the  next morn'n . . . Mimosas which this time, turned out to be used as a traditional Libation toast . . . as we all raised our glasses the next morning and did a prayerful and thankful  toast to "sisterhood" . . . sisterhoods that will always bind us together based on where we've come from and where we're still moving to and have yet to go. 

Our Mimosas went with what turned out to be our breakfast of grits, left over salmon (I had grilled the night before), chocolate croissants from Trader Joes, fruit and omelette w/ cheese and sun dried tomatoes.  After my first and second sip, my Mimosa ended up marinating for half the day . . .  but I eventually finished it.  The youngest member of the group (who was in her 30s) had cooked breakfast . . . something which she had asked  to  do . . .  She was getting and had gotten a lot of advice from her elders (us) all that past weekend . . .  so I like to think that she was cooking to show her appreciation of her "Nanas". . . which in Ghana of course means those elders who have achieved a degree of wisdom and honor . . .  even though in our cases, we're still work'n on it (smiles) 

Sistahs in the House (smiles)!!! 

Lots of B.S. talk'n, practice'n the latest hussles, sing'n with Jill Scott & Angie Stone, ocassionally, we'd let Boney James in . . . heads wrapped tight cause of perms, and that night . . .  the play'n of Spades with the traditional cocked heads, twisted mouths, and of  course the "I don't need no man" explosions . . . and of course you can never play Spades  or Bid Whist without those citified certifiable intimating looks, the staring ya' down looks of the eyes while talk'n mucho stuff especially when someone stands up and yells "it's a mis-deal" cause the dealer was talk'n too much and wasn't pay'n attention. 

SMILES...GOOD TIMES!!

Only thing is . . . I'm not sure I want Thereasa bring'n her Puerto Rican Harlem friend  back here, even though Racquel's been here several times before . . . I almost had to get Detroit on her you know what...after a few careless almost play'n the dozen type comments she made . . .  She think she bad (smiles) cause she's from Harlem (smiles).  We seriously did have to go over a few of her carelessly thrown out comments . . . But, after  I sat down with her later the next day and we talked . . . I found out she had more than a reason and a notion to be uptight and defiant in a way.  I may be losing my  friend Thereasa to D.C.  She will be interviewing for a $140,000 position next week . . . Even though I had fussed at her about digging out my Rhinestone Diva cap and wear'n it  to go on a walk after breakfast Monday morn'n . . . She knows . . . she can wear that cap anytime (smiles).

Ok...enough!

How did your full house go this weekend and how's the editing going?? I am so happy Rudy that your words . . .  your new friendship is causing me to write . . .  and write furiously again . . . In relating these stories to you, I also had realized that many of the stories that I had related to you in the past . . . had not been passed on to my children . . . so  my writing to you is becoming kinda' like my online journal of memories and when appropriate I'll share my side of our conversation to you with my kids.  

Hugs & Blessings! bev

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Bev Jenai Bio

Responsibilities were at the forefront of my life until I became a permanent resident of Sedona, AZ in January 2005 after retiring early from the University of Michigan Health System.  After a trip to Ghana in that year, I seriously pursued my dream of becoming a serious artist. “When sub consciousness becomes consciousness, the seeds in our winter clad selves turn to flowers, and the silent life in us sings with all its might.” 

As an artist . . . I AM now singing.

I guess if one cares to label me, I’m mainly a figurative artist who tries to pick up the tiniest of nuances/movements in the faces and figures of my subjects.  Infused on the foreheads of most of my paintings/pastels are blends of many strong earthy hues of color, which Sedona embraces, and then creatively transfers to inhabitants.  I’ve been strongly influenced by the old masters, Henry Moore especially, and contemporary artists such as J D Challenger, Simmie Knox, Hung Liu, Gary Grier, and Charles Bibbs. 

My ethnic kinships and respect are for the many African American women who sculpted during the 20s & 30s.  At that critical time, many in order to find acceptance, were forced to move to Europe, especially Paris in order to grow and continue their studies, i.e., Augusta Savage, Nancy Elizabeth Prophet, and Meta Vaux Warwick Fuller.  My admiration for the contemporary sculptors Eddie Dixon (African American sculptor of the Buffalo Soldiers) and Dr. John M. Soderberg here in the Verde Valley is beyond measurement. 

Trained as a social worker, my studies now are being transferred into art, which has always been my first passion and love.  I believe my diverse family background, and my travels have been the pallet from which I now spring and my main educator, for which many of my paintings and sculpting works reflect.  I AM now creatively home at last . . . however my past was/is my pavement and the structure that now enable me to be the artist I am today.  I’m told my works are “refreshingly different.”

I’ve studied art at the Center for Creative Studies in Detroit, MI, with Jon Lockard, a professor at the University of Michigan, Sculpting at Purdue University and the Ann Arbor Center for Creative studies with Norma Penchansky.  My quest towards perfection in the arts continues here at the Sedona Art Center where I’ve studied with Gretchen Lopez, Joyce Killebrew, and Jan Sitts.— Beverly Myers

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Kin'lin for the Soul  (For Those Who've Loved, and Dare to Love Again) Poetic Renderings by Beverly Jenai

My calendar signing in Detroit.

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Ghana Tiny Eyes 2007 Calendar

 

2007 – 2008 Exhibitions – Showings

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Bevjenai Obama Order Page "Its a fantastic print, I'm ordering my print and note cards today." "Its a fantastic print, I'm ordering my print and note cards today.  I'm also sending your website info to my friends and associates and everyone who sends me those chain e-mails (and to everyone they send them to)" Deborah Knight-Kerr, Johns Hopkins Health System New version of Obama—a 5x7 matted frame to 8 x 10 for tabletop display available for $40 Have you ordered your 5x7" Blank note cards...8 to a pk @ $18 a pk...

Contact Bev Jenai  bev@bevjenaiart.com  Other works by Bev Jenai appear on her website: www.bevjenaiart.com

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BLACK CLASSIC BOOKS   BCP Digital Printing

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posted 28 May 2008