Falling in love with Mississippi
Has anything happened to you that still makes you shake your head in disbelief? “How did this happen?”
Well, I still feel like I’m living in a dream. Aside from learning how to spell it, I never once thought of Mississippi, and I oh so gratefully have fallen in love with it. It is deep in my soul, and although I know the details, I just don’t know how this happened.
To tell the truth, I’ve been wanting to write about this for a while, but I’ve been procrastinating out of fear. Some emotions run deep and I often feel I won’t be able to express such things in words. Nonetheless, I’ll have a go at it.
I need to go back just a bit in order to tell this story. About four years ago, I started to think about painting a series of life size nudes. The life size part was there from the beginning, but the idea itself started like the first spark on a match, not even the tiny flame. I paid the idea almost no attention, then just a pinch more. I mentioned the idea to a friend, almost hoping she’d dissuade me from pursuing it further. Although I liked the idea of the series, the logistics seemed like they’d be a nuisance. Still, and thankfully, she encouraged me to follow the idea.
The idea itself started when I was painting Helen and Roy. Although I’d painted people before Helen and Roy, I’d not done so with such consistency. Each time I painted Helen and Roy, their skin, I noticed a heightened emotional connection that wasn’t there when I painted their clothes or surroundings. I pondered that, again slowly, and started to realize that we are simply wired to respond to humanity.
The next obvious question to consider was “what if I remove the backgrounds and the clothes and only paint people?” Would that maximize that sense of humanity? Might it summons a feeling of empathy in a prospective viewer? The idea seemed quite likely to have some truth behind it.
After about a year of thinking, with still no idea how I’d find models, or where this might happen, I reached out to another friend that I thought might be willing to assist me. When I asked, she didn’t say no, and didn’t say yes. Shortly after, she and her husband told me they were moving to Oxford, Mississippi. My first thought…”well, there goes that idea”.
About six months later, I started planning a visit to see my friends in their new town, and it finally occurred to me that it might be possible to make this happen in Mississippi. I didn’t think it was likely, since I knew nothing of the area, the culture, and had no idea how I’d start. Still, it was possible.
I mentioned my idea of pursuing the series in Oxford to another friend, and she mentioned that she had several friends there. A couple weeks later, I found myself on the phone with her friend, John T, telling him of my idea. At this point, I’d come to understand that I wanted to focus on a version of nudes I’d not seen before. Specifically, I wanted the models to be forward facing, rather than twisting awkwardly to find some perfect angle or accentuate some particular line or curve. Those lines and curves can all be terrifically interesting, but they had nothing to do with the point of this potential series. Also, nudes are typically painted, or photographed, in diffused light. Why? Because diffused light hides everything. A little cellulite? A few wrinkles? Some birthmarks or scars? Diffused light can take care of all of that. Again, these can be really interesting and beautiful images, but they’re the polar opposite from what I was envisioning. I wanted to see people as they really are. Authenticity, rather than contrived beauty, was my primary interest. In addition, youth is celebrated in our society, and that was not my interest. In short, predictable was out. I wanted to portray both men and women, of all races, and with a focus on middle aged and older.
I still can’t believe what happened next. Having told John T of my goals for the series, he offered to host a party with his wife, Blair, with the goal of introducing me to Oxfordians who might have some helpful ideas. I was honestly in shock, but elated. A few weeks later, my friends Dave and Alison, who I’d gone to visit, and I, found ourselves in a wonderland of a room with a group of soon to be friends. I believe the room had a stuffed peacock, didn’t it? Seriously, but that’s the kind of house John T and Blair own, and it was that kind of night. The party seemed chock full of artists…painters, writers, musicians. This is my crowd, though I have to say, as an introvert trying to get my bearings, I was not exactly in my comfort zone.
One of the dinner attendees was Beth Ann Fennelly, who I later discovered was Mississippi’s Poet Laureate from 2016 to 2021. She ended up being the first to volunteer for what she coined as the Oxford 12. Her husband, Tom Franklin, acclaimed author of the New York Times Bestseller, Crooked Letter, Crooked Letter, was at the party, as was Jack Sonni, a man of great style, and former member of Dire Straits. I could go around the room and you’d understand why I thought I was in a dream. Nonetheless, and this is important, these people were just lovely. No one’s resume gives them any credit past their achievements. A room full of accomplished jerks is merely a room of jerks. A room of unaccomplished angels is wonderfully a room of angels. As an artist, fellow artist’s achievements can be quite interesting, as artists all know what the struggles are like, how difficult finding your voice and not having it extinguished, can be. Still, at the end of the day, I’ll take a room of caring sweet people any day. This was such a room.
What a welcome that was! Could I have not loved Oxford or Mississippi after that? Of course I could. One great group in one great room could easily exist in an otherwise uninteresting place. But not this place. I fell hard for this place. I hesitate to make this analogy, but I felt the same pitter-patter in my heart those first few days in Oxford as one might feel when falling in love. Good luck getting the smile off my face, unless I was trying to cover up my goofiness. Those first hours and days after meeting someone, staring into their eyes, oblivious to the rest of the world. Wonderful, entrancing Oxford.
I’d been to Savannah once, briefly, and understood it’s southern charm. I got it. That was, my only pre-Oxford experience of the South. Well, I consider myself incredibly lucky that my friends moved to Oxford. What a gift this town, and later, this state, gave to me.
I had initially hoped to find one woman and one man to potentially work with, just to get a sense of things. It can take a while to find your way in a new series. Lots to think about and lots of pivoting. By the end of my three day stay, I had ten volunteers. Many of the early moments, meeting potential models and hearing their stories, are as poignant in my memory as yesterday.
As a bit of a discursion, I’d like to paint a bit of a picture of Oxford, no pun intended. Everything starts with the town square, and this alone would make the town charming. The town square is just that, courthouse in the middle, a square of road surrounding it, shops on all sides. If you’d been to the south, you’ve likely seen a bunch of these. The advantage of the square, rather than an up and back Main Street, is that you can always see the action on all the sides and corners. Only briefly as you walk will any particular view be blocked by the courthouse, making a bit of suspense as you await the continuing reveal. College kids and Alumni literally everywhere. Square Books, voted one of the best independent book stores in America, and it’s certainly that, complete with outdoor second floor balcony, beckons you. A couple doors down, City Grocery. White cloth napkins and tablecloths downstairs. Dark, noisy, boozy wonders upstairs, if you can even make it up the rickety things. “C”harming! We’re just getting started. A few doors down, though technically just outside the actual square. The Lyric and Bar Muse. Ooh, those cocktails! You’d be happy to talk to Bar Muse owner Joe Stinchcomb all day. Wobble back twenty yards, and turn right. Another ten and you’re at Ajax. Meatloaf, mac and cheese, collard greens. Banana pudding that makes my friend Dave’s toes curl. Round and round, if it’s possible to go ‘round a square. Clothing stores, bbq, fine dining, hot dogs, an old timey record shop. A rare books store. Upstairs, down stairs. Round and round.
This is just the beginning. Head down Lamar from the square toward Snack Bar, Chicory Market, Big Bad Breakfast, and the location of the best meal I’ve ever had(twice), Jinsei. On the way, you will be enchanted, and want to slow down. On either side of Lamar, gas lit porch lamps flicker twenty-four hours. If this alone hasn’t hooked you, you won’t ever be. And I haven’t even mentioned Saint Leo yet, or the newly opened Exploradora Coffee. I haven’t mentioned Wonderbird Spirits Distillery, or the precious and adorable Plein Air community in Taylor. Haven’t mentioned Grit. Haven’t mentioned The Crawdad Hole in Water Valley. I haven’t mentioned all the beauty of the Ole Miss campus either, or The University of Mississippi Museum, or the crazy sporting events. When I say sporting events, I’m not kidding. I’ve seen Magic Johnson at The Forum, watched Kobe in the playoffs in Staples. I wasn’t sure I’d even make it through the whole game when I saw the Ole Miss men’s basketball team beat Mississippi State earlier this year. Decibel exhaustion.
Ok, back to the show. I returned to Oxford a week after my first visit, for what would become the first round of sessions with models. By this time, I felt I’d met the whole town and had never felt such warmth. Delightful people, truly delightful. I can’t even go into how the modeling sessions went at this time, as that would take the rest of my evening. I can only say I was amazed by everyone’s vulnerability and their stories.
I can’t recall if I’ve been to Mississippi six or seven times now. As good as the restaurants and bars, lectures and community events are, the people are the very best part of Mississippi. On my last visit, I was able to visit the Delta for the first time. I saw a bit of Clarksdale, birthplace of the Blues. I visited Sumner and was able to spend a couple days with some of my now favorite people, Langdon, Maude Schuyler and Sophie Clay. I will write more about them later.
I’m exhausted now, which is exactly how I feel when I’m in Mississippi. My poor little brain is constantly working to process all that I’m seeing and learning, and all the love and laughter. I will be writing much more about Mississippi and about the Oxford 12 series as time unfolds. For now, I’ll just say, I seriously hope you consider a visit to Oxford, Taylor, and the Delta. I believe it will feed your soul as it has mine.
One last note. I mentioned meeting a gentlemen by the name of Jack Sonni at that first dinner party in Oxford. I got to know Jack just a little bit over the following year. He was a sweet man and dearly loved. He passed away suddenly last year. Beth Ann has written a beautiful piece about him on her Substack.