North Carolina: A State of Change, a Changing State
Collection of the Anderson Museum of Contemporary Art (AMoCA), Roswell, NM
Acceptance & Denial (acrylic and oil on canvas, 48x66) by Robert Tynes
flight to Raleigh, I couldn’t eat. I descended the escalator to baggage claim in my own little fog. At the center of the waiting crowd, coming into view, she stood out like a magnolia blossom. She’d cut her hair and added amber highlights to her caramel blonde, spiked it out. As I stepped off, her silver-blue eyes looked right into the heart of me and a smile slid slowly over her face. She wore a white top, open at the midriff. The platinum double-helix belly ring I’d given her at the same airport eighteen months before decorated her navel. A tall blonde man hovered behind her. I held tight for a moment, but a great ball of something rose up. My smile erupted, the kind that takes over your face, stretches out into the world. I’d walked many marathons over there, but I could not get my legs under me to reach her with any dignity. “Feenie.” A whisper was all I could get out as I leaned, nearly fell, into her. We stood for long moments. I held tight, smelled the skin on her neck and the oils in her hair, which I’d dreamed about every night over there whenever my head hit the pillow. Her scent meant home to me.
Robert Tynes is a Professor of Art in Painting and Drawing at UNC– Asheville, where he also serves as Director of the S. Tucker Cooke Gallery. Born in Chicago, he grew up in Alabama and spent summers as a child in the North Carolina mountains. He received his MFA in Painting from ECU. He has had over twenty-five solo exhibitions of his work and has participated in more than 150 group shows across the US. He is the recipient of several artist-in-residence grants and has completed large-scale commissions for IBM Corporation’s Field Engineering Headquarters in Atlanta and the city of Charlotte’s Convention Center, among others. See more of his work on his website.
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Fiona let out a long breath and purred her familiar mmmmm. She drew back, gripped my shoulders, and pushed me to arm’s length. “Look at you, Babette. Best friend. Home safe.” We drank each other in at arm’s length, and then she put her palm to her mouth with a shriek. “Babs, this is Toby. Sweets, you finally get to meet Babs.” And he was nice, in a professional sort of way. You know the guy. Khaki slacks, oxford shirt, handshake all business, nice smile. That brought me back to solid ground quick. I had to work to stay connected while we fished for my bags and walked to their car. “I’m going to need you, girl. Six weeks to the wedding.” “I’m yours, Feenie. Always.” She kept smiling. The year and three months since had passed slowly – thank God for Housewives of New Jersey. This morning, I’d kept Fiona busy over a long catch-up brunch at the Reveille, while Beth and Marla, Fiona’s other BFFs, prepared her house for the baby shower. Toby covered for us. Fiona had no clue, just about dropped her baby when she walked in the door. When the gift-giving got underway, Beth grabbed command from Marla, who had stood to present her gift. “You first, Marla,” Beth shouted and came alongside her, channeling Pat Sajak. Marla looked sideways, paused like she was about to shake her head, caught herself, and presented her gift to Fiona. Then Beth proceeded to reach into the pile, read off names, hand gift boxes over. I’d slumped into the least-cluttered chair, legs tossed over an armrest, balanced my Diet Coke on the other, and looked on from my little world. The earliest party I remember, Mom had invited my fourth-grade class on my birthday. I’d spent the first half-hour hiding in my bedroom closet. Dad ordered me out, but I refused, read Misty of Chincoteague by flashlight. Mom brought Fiona in to talk to me. Sitting in darkness, I heard her voice for the first time, calling out, “Babette?” Mom hinted at my birthday present through the door – I’d wanted a Snowball Furby – and I entered the family room with legs locked, propelled by Dad’s huge palms on my back and led by Fiona’s tiny hand. I locked my eyes on her back, which strained forward as she towed me into the world. I haven’t made much progress since, as Beth reminded me. After gifts and cake, all but Fiona’s inner circle made their way home. The four of us sat in the