If you’ve visited our studio, you might have noticed the words ‘twin beds’ written on a scrap of paper and taped to the wall. It’s a note written a couple of years ago while we were having a conversation about the root of our collaborative work. Initially, the words ‘twin beds’ reminded us of the furniture in our childhood bedroom. Remembering what the beds signified, we decided to pin those words to the wall to help us form mental sketches for a body of work we hope to one day produce – a reflection on our twin relationship.
we decided to pin those words to the wall to help us form mental sketches for a body of work we hope to one day produce
‘Twin beds’ also represents all the time we spent as kids, laying in the dark for hours because we seemed to never feel tired enough to sleep. We wove made-up stories together, taking turns offering what was going to happen next. We problem solved the things that troubled us during the day. We teased each other to laughter or sometimes to fury. There were times the conversations would start again in the middle of the night when one woke up from a bad dream – the other would then wake up and try to chase it away through distraction.
As the art tells our story, it turns into your story, blending with whatever it is you see in it.
Now ‘twin beds’ has come to represent an additional thought. One of the many things we appreciate about creating art, is that we’re able to continue telling our stories by visually describing what’s in our imaginations. It’s been over time that we’ve come to learn how much of a dialogue there is between people and art. As the art tells our story, it turns into your story, blending with whatever it is you see in it. Art allows us all to go to those places where it’s quiet, and where there’s a stillness of time; where the conversation can flow from delightful stories, to solving problems, to consoling one another. The art gives us the space and the quiet to listen and think. This conversation has continued throughout our lives, and we are so gratified that you are able to join in too.
A very thoughtful and informative explanation. If you hadn’t chosen to excel in visual arts, you probably could have been successful authors.
Lisa&Lori on November 16, 2016 at 3:16 PMThank you Bill. It’s very encouraging and sweet of you to say. We’ve always loved writing, and we’re thankful to have this method of expression in addition to creating our art. Thank you for reading along.
Always when I read your stories I feel a personal kinship with you both. My sister and I shared a room that had twin beds. Those beds stayed in our parents house through several moves over 60 years. Our parents passed away and we were faced with distributing their belongings. The twin beds stayed with the new homeowners for their two daughters. Life goes on!
Lisa&Lori on November 16, 2016 at 3:21 PMThank you for sharing this story about your twin beds Kathleen. Reading it made us misty eyed. Those beds remaining in your childhood home brought to our imaginations an endless wave of stories about the lives of the children who will grow up with them in their background. What a wonderful legacy!
One again you generously share the artistic intimacy we love about the two of you.
Thank you Jane. We sincerely appreciate knowing you’ve enjoyed reading our musings.
Your post recalls memories of me and my twin and our shared bunk beds–dark green Army surplus. We fought to see who would get the top bunk, and we took turns. We continue to take turns with everything, sharing, boosting, listening, crying, laughing. Thank you for sharing your journey of twindom into your creative lives!
Lisa&Lori on November 16, 2016 at 3:30 PMYou’re so welcome Maitri – thanks for sharing your story. We chuckled to read about your arrangement with your sister and angling for that top bunk. The top was the best, but there was definitely a disadvantage to being up there if the lower bunkmate was unhappy. Does the sensation of riding a bucking horse sound familiar? Twin beds made the most wonderful prop for the imagination. A twisted sheet tied to one of the bedposts transformed simple furniture into epic adventures of mountain climbing. Thanks Maitri for sparking the memories!
What a charming story.
I see that you are still producing lovely work.
I always send your messages to my daughter in Vermont. She came with
Me, to your gallery, loved your work.
God bless you,
Betty Melrose
Lisa&Lori on November 16, 2016 at 3:33 PMThank you, Betty, for reading our posts, and sharing us with your family. We sincerely mean it when we say we couldn’t do our work without your (and everyones’) encouragement and support. Our blessings to you as well.