The calendar says one thing and the weather keeps changing its mind and regardless what the weather is doing BWAC is opening its 2019 spring show on Saturday and this time will run for eight weekends 1 to 6 pm until July 7th. Saturday’s opening will be for the Wide Open national juried show in our ground floor space complete with music and food.

But come up to the second floor for our member’s show and the national juried Recycle Exhibit. The opening for these exhibits will be next week with more music and food and a lot of great art. But come once or twice or as often as you need to see great art and an incredible view of the harbor.

I hung my work about a week ago and feeling hopeful have been working on my replacement pieces. For the next two weekends I will also have some of my functional pieces…napkin rings, tiled serving trays and oval bowls just in case your still wondering what to get mom or yourself.

In a salute to our mother’s or those who have mothered and guided us with their love and wisdom the look for my paper relief sculpture Mother’s Hands.

Mother's Hands.jpg

My mother was a singer and may therefore be the reason I love music. She had studied opera but my fondest memory is summer with friends at the Jersey shore. After a day at the beach, while we kids were fed and readied for bed the women did my mother’s hair and make-up and she would come into the girls bedroom perfumed and beautifully made up in a cocktail dress and sing “That Ole Black Magic” before the adults all left to head to Atlantic City.  My parent’s friend worked weekends as a drummer in a jazz club and my mother was going to sing. We would all wait until we were sure they weren’t coming back having forgotten something and we would turn the living room into a club and in my cotton nightgown I would do my rendition of “That Ole Black Magic“. Diamond Sings the Blues.jpgThis is Diamond Sings The Blues.

Never having seen where my mother played I have created in my memory a darkened room with men in suits that I create in these shadow boxes. The lights are low, the music mellow and my mother’s perfume mingles in the air with with her voice.

The Suit.The Suit.jpg