Elemental, terrifying, and beautifully rendered—often in tender pastels—these images of women in the throes of labor and birth speak to the power we, as a gender, are often afraid to claim.
Blog Posts on Art
I am devoutly grateful for the lives of Will’s two older brothers who have mourned him with me and yet managed to go on.
When a great woman dies, we need to think about her again and again.
Several decades ago, I became aware of the work and life of Enid Yandell, a Kentucky-born, Paris educated sculptor whose statues I used to see at various ceremonial points in Louisville. This early twentieth-century woman artist, although acclaimed in her time, seemed to be forgotten. Yandell was one of a group of talented women artists
I immediately recognized the originality and daring of a kindred spirit.
Rose Simpson’s warrior women become women of flesh and blood… this is a fearsome prospect for some, maybe many, women.
Sometimes I’m grateful for the old Roman Catholic doctrine of Original Sin that held there is no innocent being, even a newborn, since Eve’s fall.
Patricia Douglas was “Girl 27” on a long list of young extras who were invited to an MGM party in Hollywood, in 1937, under the guise of a casting shoot for a movie.
The last few days have brought me into contact with four extraordinary people… this seems amazing.
I am ever grateful to the Harwood Museum, its board, staff and director, and especially to the two women who curated this extraordinary exhibit: Janet Webb and Judith Kendall who have the courage of their convictions.