Evelyn Musacchia: Laupāhoehoe Farmers Market’s Little Old Rock Lady
By Jessica Kirkwood
When I first met Evelyn she was sitting behind a table of brightly painted rocks, her slight frame illuminated by sparkling green eyes and rosy cheeks. “Welcome to the teenie tiny Laupāhoehoe farmer’s market,” she said with a gracious smile as I glanced around to the no more than ten booths that made up the market. “Over there we have the sandwich lady and the card family, and over there, the spice lady, and the banana man,” she says, pointing to the vendors surrounding her. “We like to name them like that. I’m the little old rock lady,” she giggles. Evelyn’s sweet nature is as vibrant as the colorful art pieces displayed in front of her.
With a steady hand and a fine brush, Evelyn Musacchia paints everything from houses, animals, underwater scenes and landscapes on a multitude of rock surfaces. Soon after she finishes a piece of rock art she takes its photograph and puts the picture into an album. Once the rock has been sold, she prints the name of the owner and where it will be living, and adds it to the album.
“When I paint them they almost become a part of me. So I like to know where they are living in the world.”
As we’re chatting, a woman passes by her booth, stops from a distance, and approaches. Her eyes are set on a particular rock.
“This looks exactly like my mom’s dog!” she exclaims. She picks up the rock, while Evelyn asks for a mere five dollars for the gem. “You tell me where Shitzu is going,” requests Evelyn. “To Sally in Aurora, Illinois,” the woman replies. Evelyn takes out her notebook and jots down the rock’s new home and owner.
What’s more, she names each and every one of her rocks, “The idea to name them makes them more loveable,” she smiles, flipping through one of her many albums. “This is Rolfe,” she says, pointing to the photograph of a detailed elephant, painted on a flat, seemingly smooth rock. “He lives with George right in my town of Pāpa‘aloa. I like that he’s so close by.”
Evelyn has a vivid memory and a knack for remembering names. If you ask, she’s more than willing to share the history of every single rock. And some stories go deep.
Pulling out another album, she flips through its pages and stops at a photograph of Laupāhoehoe Point painted on a rounded, upright piece of basalt rock from the Point itself. “This woman came to my booth in Hilo. She just kept staring at this rock. Then she said, ʻI have to have that for my boyfriend.ʻ” Evelyn says. Unfortunately, the boyfriend’s daughter had been killed on the mainland, and he couldn’t attend her funeral. The couple had gone to the very spot painted on Evelyn’s rock, and had thrown lei into the ocean in her memory. “That rock held a special, special significance to them. Isn’t that just beautiful?”
I notice a group of painted houses on oddly shaped, jagged, upright rocks. Then a group of what she calls, the “pick-able-up-ables”—smooth, rounded rocks where she’s painted bunnies, hamsters, and other “pet-able” furry creatures.
“When I find a rock that I like, I can see almost immediately what is going to be painted on it by its shape, its color, its texture,” she says.
Her favorite things to paint are animals, and she’s painted nearly every creature in the kingdom. From Travis, the bald eagle; to Magnus, the gecko; and Kingston, the chipmunk. Her best sellers are a collection of two painted frogs sitting side by side. “I call them the ‘famous pairs’ because I name them after well-known duos,” she says. “People are intrigued by them.” The pairs include, “Bonnie and Clyde,” “Anthony and Cleopatra,” “Jack and Jill,” “Mork and Mindy,” and “Thelma and Louise.”
Evelyn grew up in Pasadena, California in the 1930s. She eventually moved to Hawai‘i Island to work as a therapist with the Easter’s Seals Treatment Center between 1957 and 1977. Hawai‘i Island is also where she became interested in the Bahá’i religion, so much that after 20 years in Hawai‘i, she moved to their main headquarters in Israel where she lived and worked for seven years before moving back to California.
Her first painting was done in her mid-60s on a large canvas: it was a bright orange bird of paradise, inspired by an art class at the YMCA in Hilo. It was her niece—and consequently the founder of the Laupāhoehoe farmer’s market—Arlene Hussey, who inspired Evelyn’s rock art. “Arlene painted me a rock with a Bahá’i quote on it that read, “The world is one country and mankind its citizens,ʻ” she recalls without a moment of hesitation. “I loved it. And I thought—I can do that!”
Initially she took to painting the Bahá’i religion’s main symbol, the nine-pointed star, which represents perfection and unity. With an all-consuming devotion she eventually painted and sold more than $2,500 worth of nine-pointed stars, donating all proceeds to help pay for the Bahá’i center in San Clemente, California.
Evelyn recently moved back to Hawai‘i to retire in Pāpa’aloa.
“Hawai‘i is the perfect place to live. I love the Hāmākua Coast. It’s cool up here. I love cool weather. And it’s country here. I love country,” she smiles.
But what about painting on Hawaiian rocks—rocks that hold such mana, such life force, such power? Legend has it that Pele, the Volcano Goddess, becomes so angered when her rocks leave the island that she exacts a downpour of bad luck on the rock’s taker.
Evelyn respects the legend, “When you hold a rock you can absolutely feel its energy,” she says. This legend is a big reason she imports rocks from California.
Evelyn’s rocks are priced between $5–$100. She doesn’t advertise her art, nor does she have a website. “I don’t want to make it any more than a cottage industry.” So you’ll have to mosey on over to the teenie tiny Laupāhohoe farmer’s market early on a Sunday morning to meet the Little Old Rock Lady for yourself. She’ll be so pleased to meet you. ❖
Contact writer Jessica Kirkwood: jkirkwood23@hotmail.com
