​My friend and co-author Nancy Rust and I have written and published five books, including three picture books. We enjoy writing books about history and interesting people and animals.

​We are both members of SCBWI (Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators), and through that, the Acadiana Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators. 

​I am also a potter and longtime member of LAA. I love the flexibility and unpredictable nature of clay art. I like hand building and creating fanciful figures and shapes. I learned to work in clay from the late Betty Jean Tompkins, who introduced me to LAA. Through her I am a founding member of the Cracked Pot Friends, a group of potters who continue to inspire and encourage me.

Kudos to LAA for encouraging creative talent in art and writing. Recently, my writing group collaborated with LAA to promote reading during Children’s Book Week. It was a wonderful way to showcase the link between art and writing, particularly in picture books, which are often where children first experience art. 

​Carol Stubbs

Haiku poem by Guy Kilchrist

Bond Memory Fulfilled Papa’s Love
  
Time has covered you but not my memory of you.
You grew up in a palmetto shack, common, illiterate, with French as a first language. Abuse away of life.
   Time has covered  abuse with love. Your love, Papa. Your love of mama and us changed all for you and us. Your love got the house on land and the big boat. All you had was a pirogue and a “fish cart.” and you grew it big. 
   Time has covered all that you built but not what you taught us. Respect for all no mater the color of their skin. “Until you walk in their moccasins, you don’t know.” You always said.
   Time has covered it all but not your gene-pool. Your grandchildren stands on your shoulders papa… I ran from the killing; not from you .I ran from the wet piercing cold; the blood smell, not from you. I ran to fulfill the Dream-pool, not from you. Death its’ self has not and never will break our bond.
 
In loving memory of Julian Justin Sons Sr.
 
Barry Sons
 

Bond To A Memory 

Time has covered you but not my memory of you. 
I ran from the killing; not from you.
I ran from the wet piercing cold; the blood smell, not from you. 
Death its’ self has not and never will break our bond.

​Barry Sons  2017  

Papa’s Church
 
He seldom attended church.
Oh! how terrible you say,
But as a child there was no Church for him to go to pray.
But he found the Lord.
How you say?
I think I know his secret way.
 
He seldom attended church
How terrible you say.
But I’ve seen the church where He found his way.
 
The floor is of water, slick as glass.
The walls were covered in tall Pea grass.
The back of the church was Umbrellaed in oaks.
A church more fitting for common Folk.
His God, my God dwelt with him there,
His voice in the breeze of the fresh north air.
I shared this joy with him once,
My Papa the sinner; loved God a bunch.
 
Barry Sons
Sept.18, 1978

Barry Sons
barrylsons@gmail.com
www.barrysonsart.com

​My first experience with the power of color; in this case the power of Red, with its innate, potent, passionate, foxy ways was through my Mother telling me, "If you feel blue wear red."  And I still do.
 
Red the mood changer, in a class by its alizarin self, fits into the category of sui generis.

Red is in a class by its flaming, ruby, cardinal, courageous self.

Its vermillion vivacity may be challenged by cherry red, by blood red,  all the Reds abundant confidence.
 
We know the way a slight or sturdy blush yields so much information yet not a word spoken. The flame the sizzle the desire in Reds weave  shamelessly through many of my paintings. Erotic, intense, emotional, not unlike the way a fire engine grabs our imagination and brings to wonder.

​We rivet to Red with its natural ease radiating that vibrant pulse of scarlet curiosity.

Visual art is first encountered by the reflection of light on our eyes. Our mental capacities then interpret. Between the art object and mind takes place a dialogue. The dialogue is intrinsically between viewer and artist where words are not exchanged but communication happens regardless. This is good because it allows the viewer to arrive at their own understanding on what the visual elements communicate.

On the other end, some pieces of art are enhanced when the artist elaborates the work with words. The vice versa is also true. Words can be enhanced with image. This can be seen in books which offer illustration along with the text.

 Regardless, the visual artist and literary artist tap from the same imagination and creative wellspring. 

From a practical point of view, LAA always strives for new members and more visitors to the gallery. Tapping into the literary arts community of Acadiana is a pool of folks that may have never thought of LAA. LAA even has space available to handle a few writing workshops, as it does with visual arts. I've attended a writing workshop at the Hilliard Museum and even found the art on exhibit and excellent muse for writing. I know of a few LAA members who practice literary arts along with visual art and find it an enrichening experience. It certainly does not have to be complicated. Give it a try.

 Consider a piece of your art that evokes your emotions or thought and try this simple exercise: What does the piece of visual art say to you? What does it say to the world?  It could be a single word, or a few sentences. Conjoining your visual and literary art will express something about you much more deeply than what either medium can do on its own. I will share a few examples: ​