Don't discard me.

Cut away pieces wanting to be made.
By Judith Parsons Art 2020

The cut away, forgotten pieces of clay want to be made into something. No one wants to be discarded.

As I cut away the arch shape, there is a triangle piece of clay that sits upon the edge of my plastic covered board. They sit watching me, as I cut them away from the mother piece of clay, they see me shaping and forming another part of themselves. They wonder what they they will become.

The longer I allow them to watch the making of their sister into a form, they take on the energy of knowing what it is to be made into something.

Blankly they stare wanting to be born.

I know the trick now. If I allow them to watch the forming of their previous self, their energy builds and calls me to them.

Then they have energy which speaks loudly.

However, if I cut the clay away and discard it quickly- not giving them the chance to “know” the making of formlessness into themselves- they have no time to find their voice.

No time to find your voice. Hm. That sounds like another blog to write. I could go on for days about voice and swallowing down your words. But alas, that is not for today. (smiling sigh) Back to the clay.

I can see you now, your head cocked a little to the side, as my crazy artist thoughts seep into you. The clay speaking its wanting to be born language. Admittedly, I do not always have the time to give the clay energy it deserves and I quickly discard it.

Arch/Boat/Glass sculpture.
By Judith Parsons Art 2020

I plop it into the watery grey muck where it sinks despondently into foggy cloudy muddy silt. Its voice drowns. Its own muddy heart beating in its ears.

The top right photo is small gargoyles (as my daughter named them- waving at Margaret) thank you Dear. The larger center face can be turned around and has two faces in one. Hmmmm. Interesting.

How many faces do I have?

As my fingers start shaping the clay- as much as I try my darnest to repeat a shape- the clay speaks its own mind. It knows before I know- and viola it becomes its own shape.

It just happens.

The bottom left photo are boat arches, that will eventually hold glass as well. O have pierced the sides and bottoms so the light can shine through. What is the point of have colorful glass inside something- if the light can not shine through it?

Right? Nodding head. Right.

Keep creating sweet Luvs. Some twin steeples need some attention. Time to get on that.

A dark night in a city...

Original art created by Judith Parsons Art 2020.

If you are an NPR nerd, then there are chances you grew up listening to Garrison Keillor and his radio program. It came on Saturday night and again on Sunday morning. It was a regular thing my family did on Saturday evenings. We planned our dinner and grilling around that hour. 

I miss the ketchup advisory, “Barb, what you need is a little ketchup.” I can’t help but grin and chuckle at that line, it seemed to calm Barb down and my whole family. We laughed together. If we were traveling, the children would listen along, and they too grew up with Garrison and the fabulous characters the show brought to life. The cowboys and the famous Guy Noir. 

“A dark night in a city that knows how to keep its secrets, but one man is still trying…”

Garrison is still out there sweet Luvs. He is on instagram with the writers almanac. Today he read poetry about being a little outside the box. Life was askew. And as much as the man in the poem tried to step aside to adjust his perspective, he found himself spinning and dizzy.

Life is sort of like that these days. A little dizzying. That spiral brings us to my favorite shape. The cho-ka-ray symbol of centering energy and drawing it into focus. Bring the spinning to the eye of the storm, to the quiet space place that makes life nice. That makes me smile.

Yep, -in my mind's eye- I am sitting with my feet up on my back huge porch, I am smiling at my family- and all of it is a memory. A secret room I visit where the old banjo man is grilling some ribs and the radio plays. And he smiles and says: “It looks like you need a little ketchup.”

7th Grade Blue Dog

Jacque Rodrigue reading from his father's book, wearing art created by Judith Parsons.
Photos by Chopper photography 2020.

Edited Blue Dog press release:

Cedarwood School’s 7th Grade students had their first experience with sculpting masks this past February. Their focus was George Rodrigue’s Blue Dog. They each had the opportunity to recreate the Blue Dog in their own unique vision of it, mirroring Rodrigue’s versatile use of his main icon. The children interpreted the masks into various themes: stained glass geometric, alligator, and the American Flag to name a few. Their abstract discoveries were shared with George’s son, Jacques Rodrigue. He visited the school and even tried on a mask. He spoke with the students about The George Rodrigue Art Foundation, which supports young artists in achieving their artistic dreams. 

Attentive students at Cedarwood school.
Photo by Chopper Photography 2020.

Now- the rest of the story:

Finally, I have the seed of the story, the whole Jack-in-the bean stalk story. Art is about family. The legendary George Rodrigue lives on with his son. Jacque allowed us into the storybook memories that brought the Blue Dog alive.

The real dog that inspired his famous paintings was seriously protective of George, and used to nip and bite at visitors that came into the studio. The son smiled as he reflected upon the hours his dad spent painting the Cajun history we all have come to know and love.

I have students who have artist as parents and grandparents. They proudly tell me about their granddad who sculpts and another dad who paints. Then, there are mother’s who come into the school to help decorate the hall ways for our international parade. I am blown away by their creations. They have created hanging plum tree art and waves with surf boards. All that art waits for us to come back. To replant the seeds of creativity. To plant anew again.

The time of coronavirus is a strange place of mask and protective gear. The mask art you see here isn’t trying to protect anyone from anything. Maybe it is time to make art again that celebrates the New Orleans we all know and love, to create masks of playful wonder. 

This blog is written with my seventh grade students in mind. I miss y’all! This year you rose to the challenge. You rolled up your sleeves and you stepped up and made amazing art! My first year at Cedarwood was amazing- because of y’all!

Brilliant creative masks by incredible students! Thank you 7th grade!

Cat. Begin again.

5 cats. Original one-of-a-kind art.
Created by Judith Parsons Art.
(Do not use without permission)

There is a place I go. Much like this song, when I close my eyes I see all the watery memories of us. 

Our toes at the edge of the ocean. If you have shared fluid moments beside me, then close your eyes…SEE the real me.

See?  Remember her?

Imagine me- grinning from ear-to-ear. We are grinning with the sun bright, I can see your sparkling eyes. Your grin is so amazing.

There are a handful of you, who have been night swimming with me. Also sailing with me. Glorious times. Scary and thrilling. There is nothing like it.

Then there are the wind splashed memories, water coming over the bow, the boat speeding along at hull speed. Yep. A few of you have experienced flying upon the water with me.

I leave you with the link to the song I have been playing over and over again. 

Edge of the ocean.

Now, I have become a cat. I see this little independent lioness sitting at the edge of the ocean. She is content, looking outward at the horizon.

This time away from the world, except for my little neighbor (waving at D) I have been doing some introspective connecting the watery drops. 

Money, it isn’t what I thought it was. My old sand castle dreams have washed away. So I sit looking outward, aware- ever so aware of this body that carries me — not even sure what to wish for anymore.

Those last 8 words. 

(sighing)

What is our purpose? What? What is the point of beginning again? 

My twin brother called this morning (waving). I cried after I hung up the phone. I wept for the miracle that happened. It is a long story- for another blog- for another time.

Let us start over.

Over and over. The lioness of me- in my silver fur- sits at the edge of the ocean- looking out. Wondering what in the world life is about. 

No sure anymore of anything.

Enjoy the song. Think of our watery moments together. I will think of your smile. AND that is enough for now.

My cat art, creating using Adobe Illustrator. Sit beside the cat of me. And let's begin again.

Sharing and sparing during quarantine.

Art for the times! Art by Judith Parsons Art 2020.

This blog is about sharing and the way energy becomes art.

A few weeks ago National Public Radio had a segment on about kindness.

National Public Radio had a segment on about kindness. During that segment a uber driver was talking about how in between his money paying pickups he would assist his neighbors who needed help.

He would offer them a ride and pick up groceries for them. 

He said these words: 

“If you can spare it-share it. That needs to be the words we chant through these difficult times. "

The segment aired a few weeks ago. The energy of his words stayed with me, for 3 weeks now.

Art that wants to be created will whisper to you everyday, until you give it attention.

It stays with you. I created the art above- thinking I would join vista print and make t-shirt art. I will keep you posted on this.

My neighbor and I share meals, if I need an onion she shared one.

Do you know your next door neighbor? 

Is there anything you can spare?ss. During that segment a uber driver was talking about how in between his money paying pickups he would assist his neighbors who needed help.

He would offer them a ride and pick up groceries. 

He said these words: “If you can spare it-share it.”

The segment aired a few weeks ago. The energy of his words stayed with me, for 3 weeks now.

My neighbor and I share meals, if I need an onion she shared one.

Do you know your next door neighbor? 

Is there anything you can spare?

Sparing-sharing and caring!! Keep shining sweet Luvs!! 

Moving art and starting over. (Yet again)

Original one-of-a-kind art by Judith Parsons Art 2019

Hey Sweet Luvs!

It is been awhile. I am writing from my original location. For 6 years I lived in San Francisco, securing my Masters In Fine Art.

I packed up and discovered Amtrack will ship luggage and boxes of books across America. It CAN BE DONE.

( I swear I will write about Amtrack and what I learned in another blog.) Thank you Mark and Lisa and Sara. (hugging you all in a huge group hug) I hope you all connected and made the art switch off.

The photographs to the left are my art. I work with digital laser acrylic, glass, clay and graphic design composition.

   Swimming is keeping me fit and happy! I adore the children, especially when they have their "Awww-Ha!" floating holy moly moment. That is what I live for right now. I believe God gives me a feather for my angel wing every time a child learns to float. I believe I am saving a life.
I work at PAC in Mandeville. The club is posh and glorious!! They have a jacuzzi and steam room too.  Come visit and give me a hug!

I am working with Jeanette Murray (waving) creating clay sculptural pieces which I will be slumping glass into soon. SO watch for some new art coming soon.

I am applying all over the place, for an art teaching job in the fall.


I love you guys! (hugging you tight) It is good to be home.

Family Beliefs

Original art by Judith Parsons Art 2019
The hexagon and the fish were cut using digital laser technology.
The hexagon is wood and the fish is leather.

There were many magical moments this past week with my children. I am blessed to be closer to them. Admittedly, I flew to San Francisco to do me. To "own me." To get another degree under my belt, for a million reasons. But this blog isn't about that.

This blog is about the mother children connect. And how incredible life is being around my children.

This week I hugged my son and his girlfriend! Then we all clinked and cheered glasses as we raised our eyebrows in grinning delight for the future yet to come!

A glorious weekend seeing and being with my flesh and blood. I can't help but grin at the sparkling eyes that looked across the table at me.

As my first week closed and it was time to head back to Covington, Margaret and I did what we love to do, we shared out favorite songs. We were driving across the Lake Ponchatrain Causeway. The sun was reflecting like diamonds on the water and we were grinning like idiots at one another.

She played her favorite song about being real. She explained she loved it so much because she was trying to live her MOST REAL life, in the way she created her art and the way she teaches her children in elementary school. It was a fabulous song as I felt she was trying to explain to me her process for living in the moment. To be as honest as she could be. I love that facet of Marg. She does herself 100%.

Then I played my song, which was most appropriate after the "Womb Room" art opening the night before.

Melissa Etheridge: “Slowly we row.” It is a mother daughter song. One of the lines is; “Tell me what I should believe.” In my imagination that line swirls in the middle of the water. 

The reflection of me, my daughter and my mother and even my grandmother. Look back at me. The mirror of my women. My grandma with her white hair- much like mine- her hand upon my shoulder. My mother’s face on the opposite shoulder, and my daughter and son's face under my chin.

I reach up in my minds eye and caress my mother’s face and grandmother’s face. They can see the tears dripping from my chin, the tears leaking. That family relationship is precious. 

Try and use your voice with your mother. I never did. I thought of her as a pain in the rear for most of my life. I felt she wanted to clip my wings. I don’t want my children thinking the same thing about me. I want to help fling my eagle children into the sunlight and watch them soar.

I believe in the mirror reflecting the mirror. Change and transformation is inevitable. I believe in learning how to ground myself so that I can plant the seed of new beginnings. I believe in Love. 

Lots of incredible connections are happening. Loads of love abound. Let us continue to dance, (smiling) lets play our tunes for one another and shake our hips and be ALIVE with love. (Hugging you all- thank you for stopping by.)