What Keeps Me in Place • by Charlotte Lyons

I just reread my earlier piece for Art Saves, posted a year ago. I was wondering if I have anything new to contribute to this ongoing discussion of the ways that Art Saves. Looking around me, I see all the aspects and various stages of art that crowd my little studio. All the things I collected, made, repurposed, restitched, all that I have saved because I am, by nature, a keeper (slightly more elegant than “hoarder”).

Perhaps it started 20 years ago when we lived in Chicago that I found an envelope of old papers at a thrift sale. They were the personal papers of Miss Mary Apple, c.1895. Inside were her paper souvenirs from Chicago’s Great Columbian Exposition, her calligraphy practice sheets, a handwritten valentine, a program from a recital, the remaining negative shape from which her silhouette had been snipped. I kept it all together in my flat file, pulling it out from time to time, musing about Miss Mary and who she must have been. Just recently, as I was working on a new collection, the envelope resurfaced — at that serendipitous moment when I was searching for something I couldn’t name. Miss Mary Apple’s papers are now part of something lovely and new.

For my book Mothers and Daughters at Home, I collaged a pottery vase with small odds and ends. Inspired by the folk art memory jugs I often admired at flea markets or antique stores, it remains one of my favorites. I love to study the little trinkets collaged onto it, to remember where they came from and why I cared so much about each. Around the top, I used letter tiles to spell out “Save All Things.” That was pretty much the recipe for the project.

But today, remembering Miss Mary Apple, looking at those words around the rim, I turned it slightly and read it as “Things Save All.” A different kind of saving. Like those museum cases with artifacts of ancient cultures, these pieces of art cobbled together with my cherished scraps, inspirations, and treasures are my journals, my tangible history. They’re more than just the records of the artist in me. My life’s memories are triggered by these little bits, both in this particular piece and in the art all around me. This from a walk with a child, that from a trip to Oaxaca, another a gift from a friend. So much of what I make is built out of what was tucked away, forgotten, and rediscovered. From a lingering inspiration to a fragile piece of paper at the bottom of the drawer, for whatever reason, the “saves” surface again and find a place in the mix.

Layered with memories of snapshot days, signature years, arching decades, those handmade anchors I referenced a year ago — they keep me in place still. I’m glad for the saving.

To learn more about Charlotte Lyons, visit charlottelyons.com or housewrenstudio.typepad.com.

Comments

[Ellen]

Charlotte,
I love your reflection; it always amazes me, when we just tilt our view a look, we see a new perspective. Your art allows moments of grace to arrive, seeing fragments that are facets of wonderful memories. How you must cherish your art; it ties in who you are, your memories and the beauty of your soul.