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July 3 - July 30, 2021

The idea for this show has been with me for awhile, and would have been an idea with or without a pandemic. The most direct response to this call is that yes, we were a bit stuck inside, we could not travel, we could not see family. Our pleasurable, accustomed-to building blocks of memory were stagnated. So, yes, there is that. There is also the white hot and blue heat of July. When it all hangs out and we kind of submit to the heat, at least the northeast manifestation in this construct of time. And we don’t want it to end. (Some do.) There might be a best moment, an it moment, like body surfing both clumsily and elegantly in the waves for hours into the evening...Or maybe other feelings creep in, of being confronted with changes and transitions..and we somehow need to unwind yet gear up at the same time...and maybe in those moments remember better times, or maybe worse ones..


When I fell in love with Brasilian samba, a certain man told me not to listen for too long because it would make me sad. He was serious. But I was already sad, so it wasn’t a problem. I told him we are all sad as a natural state of being at times.. thank goodness, so we can be wistful and yearn.. for the loved ones, a feeling of another place and time. 


My husband, who is a naturalized U.S. citizen, and came from far AWAY, and left behind A WORLD, and i traveled a lot with the kids in the month of July. It seems we were always away at this time of year and when we were away, sometimes I was never happier or more alive. The adventure was one grand aspect of it. But moreover, it was something witnessed or sensed while AWAY that brought on a feeling of saudade..Well.. where does home exist? One place, really, inside and outwardly, everywhere. If you recognize it, and you know where it is, then you either wish for those arms or you wish that there was only love in the world, no pain..someone should say it’s ok, someone will offer you a blanket, songs are written for it..


Thanks to Richard, Sirarpi, Tanya, Stephen, Loren and Barbara. 

Please try to make it to the gallery, tell your friends and consider investing in the work of these phenomenal artists :-)  

Email me if you are interested in booking an appointment or a private evening of wine and cheese surrounded by art....



slider gallery below includes most of the artwork in the Solace and Saudade group show. Additional works by all artists are also available for viewing and purchase at honeyjones. Brief artist descriptions and links to relevant sites and pages follow. 



Loren comes to honeyjones gallery from the North Shore where she lives, works and teaches in a range of mediums including acrylics, watercolors, and drawings. She creates imagery that is uniquely vibrant, and at times mystical and profound. My first impression of Loren's work is that it is accessible yet inaccessible at the same time, a juxtaposition which lends itself to one of the purposes of art - to inspire dialogue. Her artwork is highly regarded, much-adored and sought out, especially in her Cape Ann region. Loren's acrylic painting, Longing, is part of this exhibition. I am thrilled to have been introduced to Loren through another gallery artist, Rebecca Anne Nagle. 


Stephen has participated in honeyjones' last three group shows. He is a versatile and adventurous artist. Although he is very skilled and somewhat traditional in his approach to figurative work, his recent abstract paintings, in which he employs heavy enamel paints in glossy eye-popping color configurations and a somewhat unorthodox tool-kit, are invigorating and something special to behold and consider. 

The Kiss, 9 x 12 acrylic on canvas

Tanya was the second artist to come to honeyjones when she exhibited works from her Veil Series, painted during the early months of the pandemic. She paints in the modern abstract impressionist vein, with inspiration drawn from J.M.W. Turner and Helen Frankenthaler, among others. I think of Tanya's work as exuding "heavenly light". 

She exhibits regularly at 13Forest Gallery in Arlington and stops in to honeyjones fairly often as she is quite local. Tanya's painting, Split Second, will be on display through the month of July.

Tanya also offered up one of her aluminum prints as a raffle prize recently to help boost our list serv...which was very kind !

Birds of Prey, right, featured at honeyjones last fall. 


Richard is a master artist and craftsman, having been classically trained in the early years of Montserrat College of Art. He has been creating frescoes on MDF board for the past several years; frescoes depicting street scenes, simple moments. A few of these had been in the gallery over the past months and are now being shown as part of a greater exhibition, Richard's solo show at Woodruff's Art Center in Mashpee. The image at left is a greeting card, a detail of one of his frescoes, Man Walking. There is a lovely selection of Richard's cards at honeyjones as well as his two paintings, South Cape Scape 2 and Blue River, which are up for the current show and are both stunning and quietly haunting in a good way.   


Barbara has been a presence and a force at honeyjones since last fall. She is self-taught as a visual artist and has earned success in her name and work as being synonymous with the essence of modern abstract expressionism. Her artwork is bold, unfettered and balanced. 

Unicyclist, above, included in this exhibition, shows her whimsical (and unfettered) side. Her other works in the grouping each represent a specific place and story of a human connection to be not forgotten or lost.  


Sirarpi, another versatile artist and also featured at honeyjones for much of the past year and also quite prolific in her arena, is often recognized for her overlay of imagery, mixed media and collage work, broad color spectrum and range of figurative work. Classically trained in the arts in Berlin, among other locales, she works in the Boston area and advocates for fellow artists through the organization Art Without Borders, which she co-founded and directs.  

She also enjoys playing soccer with her grandson and playing doubles tennis. 

Waiting, 20 x 28 framed oil on board
two bits of writing, the first two which came to mind when assembling this show..
I'm hoping that this type of writing, in effect, in symbols, will be a meaningful and powerful accompaniment to the visual works..

Sir, your cigarette...


What’s this?

on the ground 

beneath my steps?



  plick plack. 


It’s bricks.


Set for you and me 

to walk



  Plick Plack.





I should be barefoot

in the tall,






Too many folks

toom toom plick plack 

too faaassst..




Sssteam of heatahh

sssamoke of your cigarette, mmm


Toom toomsss 




saliinnk past you

tall, dark, shabby mannnah

Your  looose-clung shirt and belt


your burdened gait


you‘re out of place - ssss

i’m out of time - ahh


and the thought of your sweat 



has left me burning.


Julie Ayaz    2019

City of Nice 


Alabaster tips of gravestones peek from behind the undulant splay of cypress 

This high horizon is a still beauty and solace just to behold, in the air, unsolicited,

looking out our window to the cemetery of the Chateau du Nice.

A wanton unabashed patch of purple clematis pours over the cemetery walls.

Merci pour les fenêtres.

We climbed the hill twice this time.

We come, we step,

Nous sommes.


Sounds are thicker and more present than smells, and linger longer

as we make our way down the sequence of stone steps.

Pausing for a view, I see the mountain skyline above ochre rooftops

and a pass, an invitation in the peaks, catches my attention. 

The echoes of the bells of Sainte Reparate and la Miséricorde 

are cascading, one over the other

with the undercurrent of cheering Euro 2016 fans and noisemakers

gathered on the Promenade des Anglaises far below.

As we descend, other sounds come to the the forefront;

voices of starlings and swallows.

Merci pour le church bells and small birds who flock and swoop. 


I cannot sleep in our rented apartment on Rue Gioffredo;

not because of the heat-

because of the sounds;

not of bells, but 

des motos, des oiseaux, des sirenes



The sea when you’re in it, though,

when night and day are not day or night, 

is buoyancy and rhythm,

submission and tenderness.

I’m not aware if sleep is needed.

Negresco casino wildlife, fast cars and slow people;

We are here together.


Swim, floating people, so tenderly.


Our waiter at Cours Saleya gives a performance of him

So we fall, tombons pour Lui.

(except Baba, but he tips him well.)

But why did he say what he said about people being unkind ?



merci a vous, 

portez avec amor, 

carry our waiter, 

and the young man playing the handpan in the promenade hallway,

the tidy old man selling Ambre Solaire for 19 euros,

the leather-skinned woman dressed in black 

slumped on the sidewalk pushing a needle in her arm at sunset, 

and the little lost boy sitting, leaning against a dumpster 

in the middle of Jaures at midnight,

in your arms. 


Song of an ancient song is among us 

and in the distance, in the far distance, 

two mountain peaks overlap, beckoning...


My eyes fall to the mirage or true passage which holds promise and hope

come un profil d’un nez, just beyond the facade of Cimiez.

Et l’homme ancien; the profile 

of an old man in his window 

in a white tee shirt leaning over his work, juste alors -

holds my sober attention and reverence. 

Merci pour les fenêtres et mes yeux. 


Nous sommes floating people.


                            Je suis une floating person


                                                                       qui cherche 


                                                                                               cherche pour sa coeur 


                                                            dans une chanson


                                                                                           dans l’air


                                                                              dans le ciel 


                                                                                                 dans cette cité.



Julie Ayaz    2016

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