Dear Fellow Traveler,
In the southwest corner of a house on a hill by a wood by a lake, there exists a tiny artist studio. Grey paneled walls encompass rows and columns of white shelves and metal cabinets. Books filled with characters and stories line these. Baskets filled with mementos and supplies line those. Bits of nature from walkabouts adorn others. Paintings. Necessities. Each relic tucked away safely in a place of its own until such a time as it is needed elsewhere. Reflected upon. Drawn into some exquisite purpose. Thick creamy acrylics, fluid inks and watercolors, and shiny silverpoint are set to wood, canvas and paper, smooth and raw, some new and others rich with the smell of age, of mesquite, cedar, and pine. Sounds of birds and wild things, music being composed and children at play carry through out the space when modern conveniences do not drown them out. The artist's subtle eye, gentle hand at work to these, simply striving to make. Impressions. Connections. Heritages.
Art has always traveled with me in some form. When I began creating tiny paintings, drawings and wood work, it was on a whim. Art was reborn. A new venture began. The very process of learning which details to keep and which to let go was captivating. Some years later, a box my father inherited would become my heritage. The box and its contents belonged to my great uncle, unbeknownst to me, a miniature portrait artist. Connecting to this heritage, others, the land and water, and creating visual narratives through titles, materials often originating from family property and places explored, the use of tools and knowledge passed on from kin, I seek to honor these in every piece of tiny art.
nell + grey is the tiny art shop dreamt of and worked toward for years finally coming into fruition. Nell being my grandmother's middle name represents light + heritage, the story. While grey covers my walls and represents the here + now, this place.
Each tiny artwork seeks to give light + make known the story of this place, where we have been + where we find ourselves.
Thank you for sojourning with us.
Leigh Anna Newell Read More