PEOPLE 



& PLACES 



The nonprofit center's mission is 

 "connecting," explains executive direc- 

 tor Feather Phillips, who founded Po- 

 cosin Arts four years ago. 



The center took its name from the 

 pocosin wetlands that dominate the 

 landscape. "Pocosin" is an Algonquin 

 word meaning "swamp on a hill." 

 Bound by the Albemarle and Pamlico 

 sounds, the region is one of awesome, 

 untamed beauty. The human popula- 

 tion, however, has a history of struggle 

 with the elements and the isolation. 



Pocosin Arts spotlights the re- 

 sourcefulness of residents and the links 

 between their lives and their surround- 

 ings. In an "education gallery," raw clay 

 is situated next to exquisite pottery. 

 Broom sedge bristles beside intricate 

 Somerset baskets, replicas of those 

 crafted by the enslaved population at the 

 former rice plantation down the road. 



"This gallery is to teach about the 

 people, who they are, where they come 

 from; to teach about the materials this 

 environment produces and the cultural 

 traditions, how they wrap around and 

 are manifested in these materials," 

 Phillips says. 



She grasps a twisted tree branch in 

 one hand; in the other, she clutches an 

 African walking stick, cut from simi- 

 larly formed wood and topped with a 

 delicately carved face. 



"This is connecting culture to envi- 

 ronment through art," she says. 



Other displays reflect conservation 

 habits that predate today's trends. 

 Among the muted tones of an antique 

 quilt, the words "100 Percent Pure 

 Cane" reveal the patchwork was made 

 from sugar sacks. 



"One of the themes that runs 

 through the collection is saving and 

 piecing and recycling," Phillips says. 

 "That's a cultural tradition here. Be- 

 cause of the poverty and the isolation, 

 the people here didn't waste." 



Pocosin Arts is no museum, how- 

 ever. The airy expanse beyond the gal- 



Pocosin Arts work space 



Roy Smith, broom-maker 



Carol Lee at the potter 's wheel 



lery, where tall windows overlook the 

 Scuppernong River, is a busy work 

 space for artists and the setting for the 

 center's many workshops. A gift shop 

 beckons near the entrance. A potting 

 studio unfolds along one wall. Spinning 

 wheels, looms and bags of fleece — 

 some from Phillips' own goats — line 

 another. Everywhere, intriguing shapes 

 and hues invite investigation. 



Retired farmer and forester Roy 

 Smith gathers a heap of dried reeds 

 from a table to make a "yard broom." 

 Outside, he binds them with red calico, 

 then slaps the leafy end on the walkway 

 until only spikes remain. He remembers 

 helping his mother make a broom like 

 this to tidy the packed dirt yard of his 

 childhood. He has captured the memory 

 in bright paints on a wood block. 



"Back then, a lot of people didn't 

 have lawns," he says. "Most people had 

 a lot of stock in the yard. Chickens and 

 geese kept the grass down." 



Placing such familiar items as yard 

 brooms and quilts among finer arts is 

 one reason Pocosin Arts is welcomed in 

 a community that would seem to have 

 little capacity for anything but survival. 

 When the center opened, some local 

 residents were surprised — and de- 

 lighted — by the sudden attention to 

 skills taken for granted and perhaps con- 

 sidered a mark of poverty. 



"All I did was hold a mirror up and 

 say, 'Look at yourself. Look how won- 

 derful you are,'" Phillips says. "Our 

 whole emphasis is not to force an aes- 

 thetic on this community or anybody 

 else who comes here, but just to cel- 

 ebrate what's here and to encourage 

 continuous creativity." 



Fiber arts, pottery and folk arts are 

 most visible at the center. But other 

 forms — papermaking, wood carving, 

 even welding — are honored. 



Near the door, a lavender chair 

 made of welded fuel tanks silently sig- 

 nals that Pocosin Arts is for everyone. 



Continued 



COASTWATCH 25 



