sunflowerpub.com
spring 2014
Minor Miracles Still following her father’s choice for a career, Ursula Minor rounds out her life with art
StarPower Name Wherever she goes, Ursula Minor is accustomed to people chuckling about the “star power” her name commands. “Once at a gallery where I had some work on display, I overheard some women saying, ‘Well, I understand she wanted to be a star, but surely she could have done better than that in picking a name.’” Ursa minor, literally “smaller bear” in Latin, is the constellation known as the Little Dipper. Ursula says it was nothing more than coincidence that she fell in love with James Minor and traded her maiden name, Barnes, for Minor. “It has worked out really perfectly,” she says. On multiple levels, we can presume.
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ead by bead, Ursula Minor’s art comes together. In a rainbow of colors, shade and swirl, the layer of beads adds humor, depth and crazy serendipity to a variety of forms: a hobbyhorse, a shoe or a ukulele. The items are often recycled or reclaimed and become, with Ursula’s creative touch, objects of interest and beauty with their own voice. “Stop and see what I have to say,” says Shelly, a mannequin head plastered in a dense finery made of beads and shells. “I have a story to tell, of places I’ve been, shores I’ve known. Come on, hurrying fool. Stop. And see.” What a treat to heed this call to notice, to rejoice for an hour in a neat and tidy studio of beads, well-shaped odds and ends, and art in the making. “I like to work on my projects at least 12 hours a week. I like to have my hands busy while watching TV or whatever,” Minor says. Her art helps her unwind after day’s work at Honeywell in Olathe, where the emphasis is on precise placement rather than whimsy and creative juxtapositions. A day at Honeywell ends when Minor literally unplugs her lab coat from the grounding lines that protect the products from excessive static electricity. Minor assembles anti-collision devices for aircraft—a job that airline travelers might thank her for doing well. Her work at Honeywell began 37 years ago, a week after her father, James Barnes, warned his middle child, a daughter wedged between three brothers and three sisters, that she had two choices now that she’d graduated from high school: Go to college or get a job. story by Katherine Dinsdale
Minor says that when she demonstrated to her father an unacceptable third choice—sleeping in, day after day, for a full and unproductive week after graduation—he woke her early one morning, put her in the family car, and announced that this was the day she would find a job. Honeywell, which was then King Radio, fit Dad’s bill as gainful employment, and the company has written Minor’s paychecks, and later those of her husband, James Minor, ever since. But she’s continued with her art. After all, Ursula Minor is a crafty woman grown from a crafty child. “I was always asking my parents for latch-hook rug kits, string-art kits, wood-burning sets,” she says. “They always made sure I had the supplies I needed.” Now Minor gets encouragement from the creative camaraderie she finds with artist groups sponsored by Lawrence Creates Makerspace. “For about $20 a month, I get a key to the building and access to studio space anytime—morning, noon or night. I got involved about two years ago, and the creative atmosphere has really helped me take off as an artist.” One benefit of Minor’s involvement has been opportunities to show her work in the regular Downtown Lawrence Final Friday Art Parties. Minor had a future Final Friday arts competition in mind as she planned to festively festoon a vintage (but spring-less and, thus, no longer rocking) Wonder Horse she purchased for $14 at a Goodwill store. A variety of old jewelry chains fashioned a convincingly flowing mane and tail. Minor beaded hooves, nostrils and eyes in glossy black. The rest of the equine will sport “a range
photography by Jason Dailey
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