Bleeding arts

After clean-up, Brewer offered to drive the couple home as they discussed the sale of a particularly spectacular prayer stick Roosevelt had fashioned from a thick, roiling tree root. It's his favorite piece he's made thus far, a swirling tornado of curves and script and liquid shine, and no less than three art scenesters were already bidding on it--Brewer included.

Nick Fetterick, Brewer's assistant, upped the ante. "I'll give you $350 for it, Roosevelt."

"Well, that should stop the bidding right there," Brewer laughed.
Roosevelt shrugged, then rolled his eyes. "I'm not listenin'. This is between you all. Just let me know when you're through fightin'."

If Roosevelt holds out much longer, the prayer stick might find its way into this winter's library show, alongside dozens of other finished staffs. Nelson and Brewer are already planning a post-Thanksgiving outsider artist exhibition; they hope to make it an annual event.

In the meantime, Nelson is helping with the renovation of the second floor of the Stewpot building, an area slated to house an expanded arts program as well as a children's aftercare program. Right now, a few of the gutted, stuffy upstairs rooms are brimming with the Stewpot art archives from the past year--Dino's seascapes, Wolf's bleeding crosses, Dave's writings. Pieces waiting to see the light of day, just as their creators wait for relief from a below-poverty existence.

Nelson proudly pulls out a crocheted tea set--cup, saucer, sandwich, and cookies--recently completed by Marina, the soft-sided objects evoking Claes Oldenburg's humor-laden sculptures. "This stuff is so creative, so imaginative," Nelson says. "People need to see the kinds of art these folks are capable of making.