Amy Ness

 

I like looking at nature.  I have a great appreciation for the many lessons that come through my observations of the natural world and through my relationships with others. I am so fortunate to have a supportive family, and the memories of the incredible travels I have experienced throughout this world.   I love coming home, whether it is my own, in Aiken, South Carolina, or home to my memories of the beauty of Missouri’s rolling hills near the Mississippi river, the Ozark mountains in Arkansas, or even the shores of Lake Michigan in Wisconsin.  I prefer a quiet moment as I try to understand the human journey and the ties that bind us.  For me it starts with seeing shadows and light.  I paint because I am a “creative communicator”, and my language, stories, and memories are filtered through my tools.

Joya Jiménez DiStefano

 

I have made art since I was old enough to hold a crayon, face down on the floor, drawing on my grandfather’s shirt cardboard.  Then I was molding all kinds of clay, and wire, carving Ivory soap – always making things.  My grandmother loved art, and throughout my childhood we returned again and again to the great museums of Manhattan.  Her deep love of art, and me, built the foundation of who I’ve become as an artist seven decades later.

Although blessed with abundant talent, I never considered a career in art.  Art classes and open studio gatherings were ever-present in the wings of my education and professions in assisting human and organization development.  In short, I was a helper” who made art for personal pleasure.  My work was displayed publicly for the first time just before my seventieth birthday.  And even though my home is full of other artists’ work, I continue to be grateful and a little amazed when someone opts to include my work in theirs. And I feel blessed to be able to spend my elderhood seeing and saying something about life as an artist.

Most of my work is about seeing people, really looking at them.  Even if I know nothing about my subject, other than its human form, what I portray will say something about one person seeing another.  What is said in each image is a form of conversation created and constrained by the medium – pen, charcoal, pastel, paint, wire, clay anything that allows shape, line and ultimately some human form to emerge.  The resulting image is never the person, that is not the point.  What emerges is an artist saying something about seeing a person in a uniquely visual language.

Art is a three-way conversation between the maker, the materials, and the viewer.  If it is true that the book is rewritten by the reader, then the same can be said about visual art.  I like that.  The viewer reimagines the piece with their own feelings and thoughts. I want my art to invite such engagement.  Art can only pose the questions – then it is up to us to respond.

And finally, this brings me to Better World Studios – Arts with a Purpose.  When I asked my husband Michael if we could use the money that my grandparents had left me to help get this project started, it was a calling for me that seemed to bring my life full circle to the little girl drawing her imaginings on repurposed cardboard.  Graniteville built a vibrant community over more than a century turning cotton into textiles and Hickman Hall was built to honor the labor of those people.  Better World Studios’ mission is to resurrect that spirit by fostering creative community through the arts for a more expressive, just and sustainable world.  I am profoundly honored to have been called to play a role in that mission.