Today we’d like to introduce you to Jeni Stallings.
Hi Jeni, thanks for joining us today. We’d love for you to start by introducing yourself.
I grew up in Jonesboro, Arkansas, a small farming town in the Mississippi Delta. In 1992, I moved across the river to Memphis, TN to attend MCA, Memphis College of Art. Memphis and the young punk rock scene had a big impact on me and my fellow classmates. There was a diverse and tight knit group of us in a small community which felt super exciting, but also safe and supportive. After graduating in 1996 with a BFA, I stayed until 1999, but wanted to see the world, travel and live in different places to inspire and push myself creatively.
One of the places that inspired me greatly was Taos, NM. I had taken a trip through MCA with a group of teachers and students. I started driving out there every summer, looking for galleries in Taos and Santa Fe. It felt like a past life experience to me there and reoccurring dreams kept sending me back. However, I did not think I would live there until I was much older, I visualized myself one day as an old Georgia O’Keefe, painting the skies. I was only 25, and I longed to live in NYC and have that experience as an artist while I was still young (funny looking back, similar to O’Keefe who started out in New York). It wasn’t easy to get to NYC. I had a brief 6 month lease in Atlanta, GA (98) before I moved to Brooklyn, NY 1999-2001. I worked in Brooklyn as a framer in a small frame shop and was sending work to Atlanta and Memphis Galleries, trying to break into the NY art scene. In early September of 2001, the studio space I was renting, the ceiling collapsed just hours after I’d left the building. The rafters came down and had I not left when I did, surely I would have been crushed. It was shocking. I lost all my work. Later that week I witnessed a knife fight in front of the building where I worked and was asked to identify the suspects. Quickly realizing that was a mistake, because these men likely lived in the neighborhood, I was becoming increasingly worried about walking to work. A few days later, 9-11 happened. I realized I was a fish out of water and needed my bowl back.
I went back to Arkansas after a few months to regain my ground with family. I taught art classes and had a show in Memphis, saving up enough to move Taos, NM. After 9-11, driving across the country, seeing all of the American flags, I did not feel patriotic, but fearful of war. When I finally got to Taos, all of the flags had peace signs on them and I felt like I’d made it to base. Oddly enough, I didn’t paint much during this time. When I was not working odd jobs to support myself, I spent most of my time outside, as much as I could, absorbing the landscape, the sky, the colors. I felt closely connected to the Rio Grande and spent much time watching it, floating it. It was a healing time in my life that I often reflect on in my work.
In 2004 I had an opportunity to move to Asheville, NC. As much as I loved New Mexico, I lost my grandmother, I wanted to be closer to my family. It’s often referred to as the East Coast sister city to Taos, a very liberal art community with gentle mountains surrounded by waterfalls. During that time, I started teaching and getting back to painting. However, in 2006, while traveling to Atlanta to visit my sister, I met Joey Scialabba, a wonderful and talented woodworker. I fell in love and after a year of long distance dating moved to Atlanta. Three years later we married and had our son, Leo. I’ve been here now for 16 years! Our son is 12.
Would you say it’s been a smooth road, and if not what are some of the biggest challenges you’ve faced along the way?
It’s not been smooth, but it’s never been boring. When I was younger and my peers were going out, doing fun stuff, buying this or that, I was saving every penny for brushes and paint. Since motherhood, it has been even more challenging to find the space to create, money for supplies or the time to work. For the last decade, I felt labeled as a “stay at home mom,” even though I was actively creating and selling my work in galleries. That was discouraging, but just made me all the more determined.
I used a room in our loft upstairs divided by a baby gate. My son would play on one side and I’d paint on the other. As he grew, the space became smaller and smaller. It was hard to pull off a body of work this way. I longed for a studio again and to feel like a professional artist. Not that you cannot be professional and work from home! But I needed a separate space to get back to my spirit, and because what I do with the wax is very messy. For years, I felt like I was holding back my mess. So finally, during the pandemic, when an old church in Reynoldstown became available to rent, I took a chance, used my stimulus checks and finally again had a studio space to cover in wax! I didn’t know if I’d pull it off, but I’ve been there since, and while it’s been a juggle to make sales and pay the rent, I’ve kept it going. Yea for moms! You can do it! Don’t give up!
Alright, so let’s switch gears a bit and talk business. What should we know about your work?
I work in beeswax and oil. I don’t melt the wax, then put pigment into the wax and paint with the wax like a traditional encaustic painter. I have my own recipe. I start by painting, then cover my painting in beeswax with a dash of damar resin. I fuse that first layer with a blow torch and then paint on top of that sealed wax image once again, add another layer of wax and then paint again, paint, wax repeat. It’s a wax lasagna. Some of my paintings have several paintings between the layers, sometimes I cut into the wax to reveal layers beneath, sometimes I use collage. I like to dig into the wax to create lines. I love the texture of the wax, the smell, the dreamlike look it gives. It’s a very messy process that is time-consuming. I never know truly when I begin what I will create. I just sort of focus on line and color and go into a deep meditation. As the painting evolves, I feel like I’m watching the painting create itself. For me, the process is just as important as the final image. It’s sort of like trying to photograph a dancer. The dance is the most fascinating part, and the photo (the painting) is just a frame of the moment.
At some point, I’d like to get back to teaching and feel comfortable enough to share my process with others. I am celebrating my one-woman show with Thomas Deans Fine Art, Atlanta, that’s up now through April 15, “Life Is But a Dream.” The work is a daydream of floating and flying, swimming ladies, me on vacation somewhere, someday.
I’m also currently showing work with L Ross Gallery in Memphis, TN.
What has been the most important lesson you’ve learned along your journey?
Putting my work out there can be sometimes terrifying, but also terrific. Sometimes there is a great response and other times none at all (and at very worst, a bad review, it happens). At times, things sell because the work is great work and/ or the economy is thriving. At other times, everything tanks and I just have to chin up, look ahead and keep going. Ultimately, I keep my drive by painting daily, and if I can’t, I find some way to inspire myself with creative content like sketching, journaling or spending time in nature. It is my responsibility to fuel the tank of self-belief, dedicate the time and to love and trust the process. Also, I think it’s important to look at what other artists are doing. I’m trying to get my hermit out to more shows, visit studios and get to know other local artists. The pandemic wedged me out of my shell.
Contact Info:
- Website: www.jenistallingsart.
com - Instagram: @jenistallingsart
- Facebook: Jeni Stallings
- Youtube: Jeni Stallings @jenistallings83420
- Other: www.thomasdeansfineart www.lrossgallery.com
Image Credits
I took all the photos. I’m not sure why #4 and #5 uploaded sideways? #4 is obvious but # 5 also hangs vertically with the woman flying into the oval green pool, pool to the right
