Welcome to the 2015 Art-Inspired Stories Project!
This year I chose 21 pieces out of the entire show, and this
year I wrote for all. Ten of those were presented live this afternoon at the
Festival.
My choices were not meant to be qualitative. All the work submitted was lovely and merit-worthy, but I could not possibly organize and write 71 stories in less than 48 hours. So here are some of the criteria I used in making choices when I viewed the exhibit and photographed the artworks to develop.
My choices were not meant to be qualitative. All the work submitted was lovely and merit-worthy, but I could not possibly organize and write 71 stories in less than 48 hours. So here are some of the criteria I used in making choices when I viewed the exhibit and photographed the artworks to develop.
I did not choose:
Works whose message was clear - why muck with or restate
something that is already strong?
Works whose stories could not be contained to 100 words
Balancing the general themes of the stories (funny, sweet,
contemplative, etc) and the various mediums and styles.
I am very pleased with this year’s stories, and I hope that
you enjoy them as well.
**********
Pieces Selected for
Presentation at
the Proctor Arts Fest Juried Art Show
Note: All Stories are © 2015 by Judith Cullen
Use of any of the photo images on this page without the express permission
of the individual artists is strictly prohibited
Note: All Stories are © 2015 by Judith Cullen
Use of any of the photo images on this page without the express permission
of the individual artists is strictly prohibited
{LOCATED IN THE FOYER}
1948 Ford Woody
Station Wagon
By Jens O Pedersen, Three Dimensional
We chatter together, loading the wagon in the morning
sunlight. The paneling is warm against
my hand as doors open and close; eager for the seashore.
Marta hands me the picnic basket. “You’re better at packing
the car.” It’s her Mother’s basket, borrowed for today. Woven slats feel friendly and familiar as I
slide them into a little hole between chairs and beach bags.
The sky is blue and the ocean bluer, twinkling,
inviting. The waves shout. Running on
hot, tingling sand, my feet restless to feel what my hands know, even through
layers of wax: the sentience of wood.
Backyard Band
Susan Strohm, Watercolor
“What are those kids up to?
Norman ,
go see what those neighbor kids are up to.”
“It’s none of our business, Iris, let them alone.”
“They’re always setting up a ruckus. They’ve got to learn some manners.”
Norm has fought this battle before. He knows when to withdraw with honor.
As he peeks over the fence, camouflaged by laurel and
rhododendron, he sees a bow, sticks, strings and the glint of brass. He returns quietly, and sweet sounds usher
him into the room where Iris sits, knitting. He smiles, and she looks up in
surprise.
“I think its music, Iris.”