Joanna Gilman Hyde

"Good Morning, World!"

Tag: 9/11 artist

THE STORY OF A MAP

THE COAST GUARD, Shelburne, N.S., Tuesday, July 20th, 1993 — 1B

SATELLITE ART FOR EXTRATERRESTRIALS

by Harold Hart

Joanna Hyde of Shelburne has

been busy recently in her back-

yard painting the design of a four-

teen point maple leaf on a huge

40 by 30 foot map of Canada.

The fourteen points mark loca-

tions in Labrador and Quebec

where Hyde would like to position

light reflecting surfaces to reflect

star-like points of light in the out-

line of a maple leaf into outer

space.

The large map arrived in Shel-

burne from Ottawa on May 17

where it had been hanging on an

outside wall of the National Arts

Centre.  It was put there by the

Canadian Conference of the Arts

earlier in the year in an effort to

pressure the Federal Govern-

ment to stop cutting funding for

arts programs.  It remained there

until the April 26 budget was

passed.

Joanna learned about the map

from an article in The Chronicle

Herald.  Being interested in what

is called public art – the kind of

art which is large and displayed

outdoors – Joanna decided she

wanted the map.  She contacted

the coordinator of the Canadian

Conference of the Arts and was

told she could have the map if she

would pay the shipping charges.

Joanna agreed and wound up the

new owner for just less than two

hundred dollars.

The map consists of twelve sec-

tions that were circulated to

more than 150 art galleries,

theatres, and schools in each

province where signatures were

affixed to protest government

funding cutbacks for the arts.

Once joined together the pieces

make a huge map of the country

with more than 400,000 signatures

appearing on it…

“Well, what is its weight?”

“Oh, it’s Dead Weight.”

“That’s OK.  I just cremated

My Mother —

She didn’t weigh very much.”

After She painted Her 14-point Maple Leaf

Joanna lay down

and almost died.

She almost died

for years and years.

Long after one husband

cut up the map for tarps

to cover wood piles

at Her First Marital Home

Joanna revived eventually

on poetry and bird song

to find in the Summer of 2016

the abandoned map sections —

one with moss and ferns growing

out of it —

With the help of Her Adult Children

She retrieved three surviving pieces

of The Giant “Ties That Bind

and dragged them across the county

to The East Side of Her Hawk House.

She laid them out

busy in Her Back Yard

hosing and scrubbing a 23-year build up

of Nova Scotia’s Forested Fate

stained and distressed

front and back

to dry in the sun

with the help of a couple of old towels —

not Her Grey One —

there was left no semblance of the configuration

of Canada — only the ghost

of a few red lines

a few patches of indelible signatures

and one partial strip of big black letters

along what must have been

the bottom — in English and French:

…FUNDING FOR ARTS AND CULTURE

She arranged the pieces

some still edged by sturdy grommets —

into what became a nearly perfect square

measuring 27 feet by 23.5 feet:

She had Her Canvas.

She would paint on the BACK.

She folded up the three sections

and with the help of Her Second Husband

She piled Them onto the floor

of The Hawk Utility Room —

the floor She had been using

for Her Most Recent Paintings

and as She writes, She thinks

of building a platform

a stage

perhaps next summer

if there is the same lack of rain

as this one —

She would secure The Triptych

upside down, with the foundation

of Canadian signatures — what’s left of the original

400,000

and setting up Her Gallons of Paint

with broom and hose nearby

She would paint and sweep and hose

Stratosphere of The Universe

 

 

RECLAMATION

The Hawk Deck 12:14

Under a heralding

of Blue Jays

and a back drop of waves

I am scrubbing My Canvas

My Old, 23 Year Old

giant map of Canada

where once a Maple Leaf

was painted on Quebec

where now it is pieces

having been left

blowing off wood piles

in Atlantic

I am reclaiming My Stake

in The Work

of “Satellite Art for Extraterrestrials”

to commemorate The 14 Female Engineering Students

killed in Montreal

on December 6th, 1989

before Peak was even

2 years old

 

ATLANTIC

The Hawk Dining Room 1:50pm

Yesterday I went back

to the home of My Children’s

earliest childhood —

it stood with dry grass

recently mowed —

a stone bench I had forgotten

under the apple

where I planted myrtle

slowly spreading —

I found My Red Leather Baseball Mitt

left-handed

in an upstairs closet

full of toys

and in the hatchway to the attic

I hoisted My Shoe-less Son

now 28

one-footed upon My Clasped Hands —

He was looking for My Early Sketches

of Self Organizing Galaxy

a mysterious tube

of blue-prints displaying the roof of #5 World Trade Center

We failed to find —

as He came down

He pulled the light bulb string

straining to reach it

and when He let go

the slightly-too-short string

sprung back on itself

without the light turning off

and so My Greatest First Love

had to step into My Hands

a second time

He lowered Himself finally

to a painted kitchen chair

flexing His Lumberjack Muscles

— His Right Upper Arm still scarred

from when He toddled

to a cup of too-hot herb tea

unwittingly set within Peak’s easy reach

upon Our old kitchen table

in the little wooded house His Father and I restored

to cherish

WEEK 12

The Hawk Deck 8:19am

Twelve weeks ago I took

My Last Pill of Olanzapine

and I am stable as I was meant to be

but have to deal with continued

sleep deprivation —

last night I got 61/2 hours

on 2 mgs of Ativan

which is better than the night before —

Eliza and Jon will see

My Sculpture this morning

as it sits on the kitchen counter

with Its Left Eye closed

and Its Right Eye

in Another World —

The Sun is out

and I have the freshness of September

coming into play

 

DSCF0778

DSCF0771

THE APPARITION

The Hawk Queen Bed 4:38pm

Today on 2 hrs sleep

from 2 mgs Ativan

I began the sculpted head

of My Beautiful Dark Haired Woman

Who appeared on My Right Shoulder

in Roseway Hospital

October 1993

She said a lullaby in My Ear —

the most melodious voice I had ever heard

and today I have swaddled a Styrofoam core

in thin slices of plasticine

hyperventilating as I went

hearing My Son’s suggestion

from yesterday’s walk on The Hawk Beach —

“Mom, why don’t You just

exhaust Your Self?”

every slice

from a red-handled knife My Brother gave Me

pushed Me on to panel the form —

My Goal was to cover it, and I did

after carving HTWH in the Styrofoam skull

resting on My Ceramic Bluenose Plate

My Keepsake from the childhood crossings

in that vessel from Bar Harbor, Maine

to Yarmouth, Nova Scotia

when I was so happy

with My Little Family

of Mother, Brother and Me

MEAT PACKING

The Hawk Queen Bed 8:54am

I could write It now

while My Husband is in The Tub —

It’s all set up

in the heart of the USA —

The World’s Largest Slaughter House

when The Aliens decide to eat Us

They could herd Us along

the metal gates

the miles of trucking routes

in packed containers

to The Killing Chambers

where We would slide

down against steel floors

compressed

maybe 50 at a time

and dumped out onto The Cutting Boards

sliced

strung

savored

MY BLACK COAT

The Hawk Queen Bed 8:17am

Once I had a pretty coat —

the last time I wore it was to see

Our Lawyer from The Hyde Inquiry

it was flared with a high-cut waist

and Two Silver Buttons

but I gave it away

years ago

to The Salvation Army

when I got rid of My Black Jesus Clothes —

this morning  I woke with an anxious thought

regretting My Disposal

but My Comforting Husband

tried to reassure Me:

“It was the drugs.”

 

ONE LOST PAINTING

The Hawk West Desk Window 7:28pm

It filled My Mother’s Sun Deck

during a student year

I used a lot of black

with three blotches of red

positioned unintentionally like cherries

on a banana split

I left It out overnight

when the wind got up

and stuck the paint with leaves

and shaped the canvas

into a highlighted streak

of accidental luminosity