<![CDATA[Abby Lee Vandegrift - What I\'m working on]]>Thu, 02 Jul 2026 09:13:46 -0400Weebly<![CDATA[Hands That Build]]>Wed, 01 Jul 2026 00:31:05 GMThttps://www.abbyvandegrift.com/what-im-working-on/hands-that-build
When thinking about America on her 250th birthday, an idea keeps bubbling up in my mind. The notion that tireless hands have worked to build something different than it was before. Many types of hands from many different types of people; some building, some destroying, some fighting, some working against their will. Our hands represent our choices (sometimes the lack there of), and I find myself wondering what it is I’m choosing to do with mine. Are my hands edifying others? Are they creating? Are they making something better than it was before?


In these two drawings I chose to use my parent’s hands as models. They have always worked hard to improve things around them, and I choose to see America that way. Despite many setbacks, wrong ideas, and bad politics, there are still those who are working hard to make it better than it was before. My hope is that there are more Americans with building, healing, and caring hands and their work will always prevail.

]]><![CDATA[We are meadows]]>Mon, 18 May 2026 23:36:57 GMThttps://www.abbyvandegrift.com/what-im-working-on/we-are-meadowsRecently, some other artists and I put together an art show in honor of a dear friend that passed away last year. The loss of her was a hard hit to the broad community of people who loved her. And I was grateful for this opportunity to use art as a means for processing. 

Grieving is always a process one carries with them and it was during this past Ash Wednesday service, when Isaiah 40:8 (The grass withers and the flowers fall, but the word of our God endures forever) was read that the idea for this piece struck me. I was thinking about what it means to live in a broken world while also having glimpses of heaven break through. I believe we don't see things clearly enough. Too much of our self interests, relational dynamics, and every myriad of distraction clouds our spiritual lives. But one day, we break through all that and see beyond, with eyes wide open and clear. These three pieces were my attempt to communicate those ideas.
First, I started with these watercolor paintings. I chose three flowers representing her heritage, and the places she lived. 
When those were done, I made the resin panels with gold mica powder and ash mixed in. I wanted there to be a transparent screen representing how we see dimly. I placed all the elements into a glass shadow box to encase it while allowing light through. 
Lastly, I wrote a poem to verbalize all this.

- - - - - - 

We are a meadow, 
Replete with waving grass and lavish blooms.
Our meadow flames with life.
And yet, 
Here and there, 
A flower will fade. 
A patch of grass will wither.
Life extinguished. 
But the ash left behind, gives way to something more.
Beauty beyond bounds,
That our eyes, dimly lit, can only perceive
From a distance.  
And yet, we see it, 
Glimpses,
Pin pricks of light, 
That burn bright like the dawn. 
Shining new rays upon our meadow. 
Yielding these ashes for beauty.
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