Metaphors & Memories

Metaphors & Memories by Carol Ann Rice Rafferty

Hilbert College - McGrath Library.
5200 South Park Avenue
Hamburg, New York.

On display until the May 1, 2012

The college will be holding an artist reception
April 26, 2012 from 6:30-8:30 pm.

Gallery hours are as listed:

Monday -Thursday: 8am-10pm
Friday: 8am-6pm
Saturday-Sunday: 11am-4pm

It is with deep appreciation to Hilbert College for the invitation that my selected works created over 10 years are for the first time gathered in one place for public viewing.

Many pieces have been included in the following art show; Fiberart Intrnational 2007, Craftforms Intentional 2006, Northeast Regional Contemporary Fiber Exhibition Rochester Contemporary Art Center 2011, Re.Cycle.fiber 2010, Paper or Plastic 2009, Runway 4.0 2011 as well as other local and International shows.

Dream Some - 2009 is a  face mask I created from discarded lottery tickets I picked up from being litter on the ground around a gasoline station while I lived in Savannah, Georgia while I was studying in the Graduate Fiber Program at Savannah College of Art & Design.  

Money was a huge issue with graduate students, myself included, the program was expensive $3000 a class at that time.  Even with the Fellowship Grant the college awarded me for my studies I was always aware of the cost of my educational experience.

The stock market had crashed in Fall 2008 and many people with advanced degrees plus years of work experience suddenly found themselves unemployed.  Many students shared their fears and frustrations of mounting student loan some reaching $150,000 in pursuit of the MFA degree at SCAD.

Would they ever find jobs doing the art work they loved?  How would the pay back the burden of mounting student loans?  Part of what led the students to study in MFA program was dissatisfaction with low paying jobs after they earned the bachelors degree.  Once they were in the program many felt there was no turning back, they had no choice but to push forward and dream of brighter days.

All of my art work begins with a creative vision.  

Dream Some 2009 came to me as I was walking around the town of Savannah, Georgia.    Troubled times from the stock market crashing, rising unemployment and rising gasoline prices weighed heavy on everyone's head.  Was it about Wall St. what about Main St. ?

As I walked I noticed many lottery tickets littered on the ground after they were found to be useless to the one who had once eagerly traded their hard earned money for the short lived dream of being rich.  Once the ticket was deemed useless it was thrown on the ground as trash.

I could see this mask in my minds eye as I gathered together all the broken dreams of these lottery ticket buyers.  Metaphorically I gathered these people into my head, my hands and my heart then began to cut, weave and fashion their discarded dreams into this mask that represents anyone who dares to Dream Some.

What's outside of Pleasantville?

Jennifer/Mary Sue: What's outside of Pleasantville?
Miss Peters: What?...I don't understand...
Jennifer/Mary Sue: Outside of Pleasantville...
What's at the end of Main Street?
Miss Peters: Oh, Mary Sue. You should know the answer to that. The end of Main Street is just the beginning again.

Pleasantville is a 1998 film about two modern-day teenagers who find themselves suddenly inside a 1950's sitcom where their influence begins to profoundly change that complacent world. Nothing Is As Simple As Black And WhiteWritten and directed by Gary Ross.


The movie Pleasantville came out is 1998. It was the year our son Barry graduated from high school. While he was looking at colleges I had an burning desire to see what would happen if I went back to college this time to study art.

As a member of Generation Jones we were given huge expectations as children in the 1960s, and then confronted with a different reality as we came of age in the 1970s, leaving us with a certain unrequited, jonesing quality. The recession of 1970's began during my first year in high school. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/1970s


My parents were older, although they had three of us within five years, my father was 42, mother was 32 when I was born. I was am a middle child. At the time the 1970's recession hit my father was in his late 50's. That is pretty much the age when companies start to look for young, energetic, more progressive thinking people in their 30's to replace more highly compensated employees. My first experience as a college student was in 1974. Not sure what I wanted to be when I grew up. Not ready to give up my quest for learning. Not willing to give up the comfort of being a student I enrolled in the local community college. My parents were struggling with inflation of gas, staggering food prices, retirement and downsizing in the 1970's consequently they had no extra money to help me pay for a college education. http://www.bls.gov/opub/cwc/cm20030124ar05p1.htm


I learned at a young age if I wanted something I had to work to pay for it myself. My father made too much money to be called in need and not enough to share with me for advanced education. My father made between $15,000 and $20,000 during the 1970's; this is the could be compared with a family living on between $50,000 and $60,000 today. Not poor by any stretch of the imagination yet not allowing for cash to flow out for luxuries. I did not qualify for need based government grants. In the 1970's a education for a female led her into a career as a nurse, a school teacher or a secretary now called an administrative assistant. None of those options looked appealing to me. Education for a female could well have been considered a luxury especially if she was interested in studying art.


After researching all of the Fiber graduate school programs I selected SCAD for the following reasons: it was in Savannah, large number of female professors, mission statement promising individualized attention to prepare students for professions, seeking input from other graduate students and wanting to build on my undergraduate artwork.

Having only applied to only one graduate program you can imagine my surprise to receive the letter of acceptation. That was interesting yet the tuition is expensive for me to pay for myself. I put grad school on the back burner until a letter followed offering me a combined fellowship grant. How could I say no to an opportunity to live in Savannah while investigating what could happen if I went to graduate school?All of my research, application and acceptation took place in 2007. The economy was strong, I really enjoyed teaching, my future looked bright. All systems go... That gave me exactly one year to complete my teaching position contract, visit the college for grad days in February, meet future grad students, find an apartment, sort and pack my studio and life.

Moving a two days drive away from my husband of 31 years is no easy decision. Although we had lived in the Crane Village apartments, with a pool, when we were first married, we had lived in three homes within our married life. I was used to the privacy that living on one acre lots brings. Living in an apartment means no more walking around the yard in my nightgown late at night to look at the stars or early morning sunrise stroll in the morning dew. Sight unseen I selected an apartment outside of town, half way between Tybee Island and the college, that also had a swimming pool.

My initial packing all summer was purely studio equipment and a necessary items for housekeeping. Two weeks before we packed the truck for Savannah my husband got the unexpected news along with many other employees, his position for the past ten years would be terminated by the end of December.

Enter CHAOS

Deja vu
Are you kidding me?

The slow and steady decline from consumer confidence to tumbling stock prices, rising unemployment and inflated gasoline prices brought back mysteriously, ominous, bad memories of the 1970's.
to be continued...

“You never really leave a place or person you love, part of them you take with you, leaving a part of yourself behind.”

No time or interest in television today. As a young girls I used to look forward to watching Miss America or Miss Universe pageants with my mother. I would take a bath, wash my hair, dress in a pretty night gown early that Saturday evening. No TiVo or video recorders so this was going to be a long night with with many Clairol beauty product commercials.

My mother and I would set our hair in rollers, shape by rounding the corners of our nails then carefully apply finger and toenail polish. Creams for our face, hands and to soften our feet were applies during our version of a mother daughter spa date.


I enjoyed watching the 18 - 24 years "grown women" (at fifty-two now some people that age look so juvenile to me) perform dancing, singing opera, and ventriloquist acts in talent competition. There was a bathing suit competition as well as a question and answer session where each girl would compete to impress the judges. Daydreams of being a mature woman filled my head as I watched the beauty pageant to see who would be selected as the most beautiful girl in the USA this year. It was very exciting to see the look of shock on the winners faces. The other girls huddled around her then she took her walk down the aisle to begin her reign as Miss America.

Never did I have the delusion that I could be Miss America. I never had the perfect measurements, nor could I sing opera, nor would I ever be caught dead walking around in a bathing suit wearing stiletto high heels while judges assign a number to me. No, I dreamed of winning the title Miss Congeniality. I dreamed of being the girl who was voted by the other girls as nice to get along with. That title sounded most desirable to me.

Around this time that I watched beauty pageants when I was in the third grade at Sts. Simon and Jude School their was a classroom contest with a prize. Today I can't recall the prize, the contest or even who won. What I remember most was hearing my name, Carol Ann Rice, spoken above the noise in the classroom. A classmate, Patrick Raymond O'Donnell said, "I hope someone nice wins the prise like Carol Ann Rice." That was the beginning of a ten year crush and the realization of my self image as amiable by others outside of my family.

During my week return to Savannah it was my pleasure to introduce Jim, Kara and Chewie to people who were kind to me while I lived alone there for the past year. Along with breaking bread with my new friends, packing and seeing the sights of Savannah I was leaving part of myself behind.

To Robert next door, I left a piece of granite rock from the Ancient Lake Tonowanda http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Glacial_Lake_Tonawanda where I live in Clarence, NY. Robert is moving to Richmond Hill, Ga. today. Now a piece of NY Niagara Escarpment will make its home in Roberts tropical garden bed. In turn, Robert gave me metal coupling from the International cargo barges where he works on the docks in the Port of Savannah. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Savannah,_Georgia

Chris the upstairs neighbor guy loves plants. He babysat my patio garden plants as well as fed the ferrel cats while I was in Clarence. He lovingly re potted my Mandarin Orange Hydrangea that the cats tore apart in my absence. It seemed appropriate to leave one of the plants with Chris who gave me a parting gift of a wisteria from his transplants for my garden. Every home I move to I plant a wisteria in the garden. This one from Chris will be a good pairing with the established one in NY.

Joan the delightful, exotic native of Savannah is a woman I met during my travels to galleries around town. Joan brought a spark of excitement and shear joy to my craving for adult companionship. She is a few years older than me so it was fun to talk about things without having to give a historical context. Joan gave Kara and I each a garment from her fabulous collection of vintage clothing. To Joan I gave the my wire shoes I created as an homage to Bettie Page http://www.popsubculture.com/pop/bio_project/bettie_page.html

Iona, fellow student in the Fiber grad program was a good fit with me from the day we met in orientation. Her work ethic is admirable. Her art is precise and her maturity made me feel comfortable in a program surrounded by girls many less than half my age. Iona left a small bird on my desk once after seeing my propensity to create nests. When I found the "Waving Girl" http://gosoutheast.about.com/od/savannahgaattractions/a/waving_girl.htm on my studio desk there was not doubt it was from Iona. In kind Iona was the appreciative recipient of my baked goods, studio art supplies and excess linens.


Along with phone numbers, email address, and promises to keep in touch. I received a nice note saying they wished all of their neighbors were as easy to live around as me. “You never really leave a place or person you love, part of them you take with you, leaving a part of yourself behind.” I have a strong belief I am going to return to Savannah soon.

Savannah Revisited

"This communicating of a man's self to his friend works two contrary effects; for it redoubleth joys, and cutteth griefs in half. " Francis Bacon

Jimi, Kara and Chewie our Wonder Pomeranian made the long journey from Clarence, New York with me to close up my apartment studio in Savannah, Georgia this week. When you have a difficult task to do, it is best to surround yourself with faithful friends then have as much fun as possible getting the job done. I was ambivalent driving back to Savannah. Many wonderful memories of the beautiful city numerous strangers that were kind to me as I sojourned in a strange land flooded my thoughts. Unpleasant memories also peppered my head. Memories of how I constantly lowered my expectations as I tried to find new ways of being content in an environment where I was not a good fit from the start.

Why had I not seen these potential points of conflict during the open house days? The Southern Hospitality was palpable during the three days I surveyed the campus environment before making my final decision to attend. All visitors were plied with a copious breakfast, a bountiful buffet lunch and mid day sweets, washed down with abundant servings of the Sweet Tea for which I never could acquire a taste. Everyone was smiling during Open House and Orientation Days like they were on Prosac as big as jawbreakers.

The Mission Statement promises "to prepare talented students for professional careers, emphasizing learning through individualized attention in a positively oriented university environment." Where do I sign up?

Who would not benefit from being in the aforesaid environment?

I quit my job as an Adjunct Instructor, packed my loom, pounds of yarns, hundreds of pounds of books, complete studio of Fiber Reactive Dyes, chemicals, beakers, scale as well as enough acutriments to open my own Fiber Studio. Accompanied by my husband for the past 31 years, I moved into an apartment where I would be on my own for the next two years. Jim had complete confidence, reassuring me that I was doing the right thing to follow my lofty ambitions advancing my education during my middle age years. Middle age if I live to be 104 that is.

Jim and I had gotten married when I was young. We met in a German class while we were both liberal arts majors, still students, not really sure what major to study. After dating for four years we married in May 1978. I was just 21 years old wanting mostly to spend my life being his bride. We were blessed with my dream family a son now grown to a successful businessman. Barry is now a vice president with his company a title he tells me everyone has or else they are out. Four years after Barry was born our family was complete with the birth of Kara now a confident, strong, compassionate young woman I am proud to call my best friend. Kara inherited my artistic personality, majored in art in both high school and college is now employed as a graphic designer. Kara is my muse, my partner and my confidant My family had rallied around my choice to go back to college for personal enrichment, they encouraged me to pursue a degree in design. They were with me as I marched with the graduates to accept my diploma. It was my family that backed me one hundred percent to attend graduate school so I could be around people who would talk about art with me. Mostly they desired their ears could have a break from my incessant enthusiasm about art.

No time for a recipe today. Have to keep packing...

Unexpected Pleasures

"I learned this, at least, by my experiment;that if one advances confidently in the direction of his dreams,and endeavors to live the life which he has imagined,he will meet with a success unexpected in common hours." from the "Conclusion" to Walden Henry David Thoreau



Living in Savannah for nine months brought about a plethora of opportunities to meet interesting people in unexpected places. One rainy spring day as I was out on my daily walk around Savannah I met in interesting character in front of the Cathedral of St. John the Baptist on East Harris St. http://savannahcathedral.org//index.php/about
Poised among the usual tourists who gather at the trolley stop in front of the church I met middle aged man who had red hair and a beard. Ivan was making roses using palm fonds he had picked from the top of the native palmetto trees earlier in the day. Many street vendors in Savannah quickly fold the palm fonds into rose forms which they sell to tourists for a few dollar donations. This rainy morning business must have been slow as the man was willing to share with me both a bit about his life and the technique to make the roses for myself.

Ivan was a proud to tell me he was Viking, that he hailed from the Ukraine and that he had come to America ten years ago. He settled in Savannah because the winters were warmer when he had to live on the streets. I was fascinated to meet Ivan that day as I had been researching about Udmurt people of the Volga were "the most red-headed men in the world"). The Greek historian Herodotus described the "Budini", probably Udmurts and Permyak Finns located on the Volga in what is modern-day Russia, as being predominantly redheaded.

I gave Ivan a few dollars for his roses and for sharing his knowledge to make more roses for myself. He laughed when I suggested we could work together making and selling these roses on the street. Then an odd thing happened when I shook his hand to say goodbye.
He tilted my hand slightly, then said, " Nice diamond."

Today's recipe is in honor of Ivan the Viking and Strawberry Blonde's


Chocolate ganache cake, fresh strawberries, homemade Vanilla Frozen Yogurt



Vanilla Frozen Yogurt

3 cups strained good-quality whole-milk yogurt



To make 3 cups of strained yogurt, line a mesh strainer with a few layers of cheese cloth, scoop 6 cups of plain whole-milk yogurt into the cheesecloth. Gather the ends and fold them over the yogurt, then refrigerate for at least 6 hours.



1/4 to 1/2 cup raw sugar (I like tart yogurt so I use less sugar)

1 teaspoon or more pure vanilla extract (I like to scrape in some real vanilla bean)

Mix together the yogurt, sugar, and vanilla.

Stir until the sugar is completely dissolved. Refrigerate 1 hour.
Freeze in your ice cream maker according to the manufacturer's instructions.
Makes about 1 quart.Vanilla Frozen Yogurt Recipe