|
Since 2018, I’ve painted around 50 weddings. That's a lot of opportunity to witness a wide range of family dynamics, beliefs, and advice. As I paint, I enjoy the sights, smells, and sounds around me, which often include people reminiscing about their own marriages or offering advice to the newlyweds, engaged guests, or bystanders.
Here are some insights that I've accumulated over the years, along with my reflections on each. While my marriage is still relatively young, my husband and I have lived a lot of life in our nearly 20 years together. I believe what I have to say holds value, so I'm excited to share it here! The Lovely: 1. “Say I love you constantly.” This is a beautiful piece of advice. Life is fleeting, and with my anxiety, every moment feels like an uncertain one. This simple phrase has become a mantra in my marriage, a gentle reminder to express love before every phone call ends and every car pulls away. 2. “It’s never too late to find the love of your life.” I heard this from a 65-year-old woman who bravely left behind an unfaithful, tumultuous marriage. Years later, she found her true love, a connection that renewed her love of life. **Cue the happy tears.** 3. “Leave love notes and buy ‘just because’ flowers.” It truly is the little things… The Messy: 1. “Don’t go to bed angry.” People toss this phrase around like it’s the gospel truth. Alternatively, sometimes a warm shower and a good night’s sleep are exactly what my husband and I need to reach a respectful and peaceful resolution to a disagreement. 2. “Opposites attract.” Eh, maybe they do. But those core values tho…those probably need to align 🙂 3. “Be each other’s everything.” This is a recipe for suffocation. I can’t imagine the weight of feeling like my partner’s happiness, hobbies, choices, decisions, preferences, etc. rely on me. Each of us should connect with and nurture our individuality so that we can come together as healthy, whole people who can then thrive as a unit. The True: 1. “Never stop learning about each other.” This past year, I had a realization: one day, when our child moves out to start her own family, my husband and I will once again be a party of two. It seems obvious, yet I’ve witnessed so many marriages falter after the kids leave. I once thought those years were the golden era of marriage, but I was wrong, and it’s disheartening. As young parents juggling entrepreneurship, homeschooling, and social lives, we’ve had to be intentional about carving out time for date nights and meaningful conversations. The truth is, those date nights often get canceled; life just happens. But we’ve decided to change this. We want to prioritize learning and growing together. It could be something as simple as my husband now preferring Taco Bell over Wendy’s. I want to understand him and celebrate who he is today and every day, especially since we’ve evolved so much over the almost 20 years of being together! 2. “A woman should choose a man who is good to his mother BUT doesn’t put his mother before his bride.” I've heard the first part of this phrase over and over again...but FINALLY someone said the rest out loud: Wives should come first. Apparently, there are a lot of scorned women who can agree on this topic, because I hear similar advice often. I’ll let the Bible drive home this point for me: “Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.” (Genesis 2:24). 3. "No man wants to be intimate with his mother, so don’t act like his mother." Old Me:
New Me (as of a few weeks ago):
When I tell y’all that our marriage is changing before my eyes…it’s wild how gratitude and mutual respect can transform a relationship. I can't take full credit. I highly recommend Laura Doyle’s marriage advice. As an independent, assertive woman, her approach has been a hard pill to swallow, but it’s working…so there’s that! I truly hope some newly engaged couples are reading this. I wish I had learned these things earlier and had more people speaking life, gratitude, and respect into my marriage from the start.
0 Comments
This poem is for my husband, and for my fifteen-year-old self. The past couple of years have marked significant milestones in our relationship. As of this year, we have been together for longer than we were without each other. We met so young that Nick fell in love with a girl who was still secretly pretending she was a mermaid in the swimming pool (and I still secretly pretend the same thing today haha). I crossed the threshold from girl to woman during our span of time together. Think back to your fifteen-year-old self and how different you are now! It's jolting! However, writing this piece made me realize that those soul-level characteristics that make me who I am are still there. They just present a little differently these days. In honor of our plans to renew vows in the new year, here is a glimpse into the two different versions of me that my husband has loved, both of those with Extra Mayo :) EXTRA MAYO
Heidi Wilson Fifteen. Glistening skin, dirt, morning warmth The smell of leather, metal, and freshly mowed grass. A tiger’s coat peeking through oily banana leaves My fingernails stained orange and green. Wildflowers, sticks, mom’s lotion Lip gloss and potions. Blue mosaics and dancing sunlight Mermaid tail shadows. Our fingers intertwined I can’t find my balance. My heart. Cocoa and caramel, Sugared jelly peaches. Crunching leaves and Country music, A fallen log table Bologna cheese sandwiches. Have it with extra mayo. I did. Thirty-Four. Patchwork den, socks, morning frost The smell of coffee, puppy breath, and old books. A Fox under the dry-brush moon My brushes stained silver and blue. Wildflowers, sticks, my lotion, Salves, homemade candles, and potions. Blue mosaics and dancing sunlight Mermaid tail shadows. Our fingers intertwined, I can’t find my balance. My heart. Butter and cream, Sugared jelly watermelons. Crunching leaves and folk music, A fallen log table Bologna cheese sandwiches. Have it with extra mayo. I do. I’ve been familiar with Enneagram for several years now. I’ve enjoyed hours of podcasts and reading on the topic; To see myself so accurately described in black and white on book pages is…entrancing. humbling, and so relieving. The Enneagram personality system has roots in Christianity and is so accurate that the Fine Arts department I taught with for 8 years used it to differentiated instruction for our diverse set of students. The Enneagram categorizes folks into 9 types. Have you ever started a new job and realized that some of your new co-workers are eerily similar to people you’ve worked with before (both in appearance and personality)? I’ve always been convinced that although God created each of us so vastly and uniquely different, he possibly stamped us all from a common slab of clay using only a few different cookie cutters. What else explains how accurate the Enneagram seems to be!? And oh my, how grateful I am to know that in this rat race of Enneagram 3 life, I’m far from alone. Other Threes get it. They understand. They are me and I am them! In contrast to other personality/aptitude assessment results, Enneagram types do not describe how people act, but rather the motivation behind their actions. So, what motivates a Three you might ask? Success. Affirmation. Being Needed. If I find myself around friends who always have the best idea in the room, the best way of doing things, the best advice, the illusion of perfection, etc., I tend to bail. Why? Because they don’t need me. My ideas and input have no place in what is supposed to be a mutually fulfilling relationship. If I work a job with finite opportunities for advancement, I bail. Why? Because I work best when there’s always but never a trophy in sight (if that makes sense). If I make an effort to put aside busyness to fellowship with people, and the effort is not reciprocated, I bail. Why? Because generally speaking, people make time for what and who matters. If I don’t seem to matter, I’m done. This is especially true for a Three. During this morning’s commute, I listed to the Enneagram album, Atlas by Sleeping at Last. Each song is as complex and unique as the type it describes. I’m about to be extremely vulnerable. This part of my post may cause you to think of me in a few various ways (even this disclaimer is such a “Three” thing to do…). 1. Heidi is full of herself. 2. Heidi is humble bragging. 3. Heidi has her crap together. I can’t help what you think of me. But just know that I’m aware of all of these possibilities (none of which are my true intentions btw), yet I’ll still attempt to make you understand because I’m a Three. That’s what Threes do. So, here goes. My life as an Enneagram Three has looked like this (the ups and downs): 1. Perfection anxiety starting in 2nd grade. Only A’s are acceptable. Those are what gain me accolades and affirmation from everyone. 2. Loving sports but not being great at any of them. 3. Dawning the blondest hair and smokiest eyes when I finally gained confidence with my appearance. 4. Graduating undergrad with a 4.0, then realizing most employers don’t even look at GPA. 4. That degree wasn’t enough so I needed a Master’s also. More student debt. 5. Wanting to quit my art teaching career after year three, but winning Teacher-of-the-Year and gaining a fresh gumption to go all-in. 6. Quitting four years later anyways, because I still didn’t particularly want to be a teacher. 7. Opening my own art business that is lucrative, liberating, and so enjoyable. I’m exhausted just having typed this list. That’s because I remember being a very unhealthy Three back then. I was ALWAYS chasing trophies, affirmation, and personal value in how others viewed me. Now, I balance work AND rest. I see fine lines and a stray grays, and I embrace them. I’m ok with having a Master’s degree in teaching that I don’t use in a classroom. I resist the urge to post every personal or familial achievement (that urge is STRONG). Do I get it right all of the time? Of course not. No one does, especially in the time of cursed social media where we can fool everyone into thinking we have everything figured out. But, I do think I ebb and flow more towards the side of a “healthy” Three nowadays. Maybe that growth is one of the natural perks of your thirties, but I’d like to think some self-awareness and purposeful work on my part has something to do with it! Below are the lyrics for my Enneagram song. Three Sleeping At Last Maybe I've done enough And your golden child grew up Maybe this trophy isn't real love And with or without it, I'm good enough Maybe I've done enough Finally catching up For the first time I see an image of my brokenness Utterly worthy of love Maybe I've done enough And I finally see myself Through the eyes of no one else It's so exhausting on this silver screen Where I play the role of anyone but me And I finally see myself Unabridged and overwhelmed A mess of a story I'm ashamed to tell But I'm slowly learning how to break this spell And I finally see myself Now, I only want what's real To let my heart feel what it feels Gold, silver, or bronze hold no value here Where work and rest are equally revered I only want what's real I set aside the highlight reel And leave my greatest failures on display with an asterisk Worthy of love anyway Today is my first-born, Fallon’s birthday. I miss her with all that I am, and I credit who I am to her; Someone who can show kindness and empathize with the best, and also someone who will burn bridges to the ground when needed. Life is too short to do otherwise. This will be the final sharing of some of my answers from the 2018-2019 Georgia Teacher of the Year Candidate Application. Fallon was the cornerstone of my teaching style, as you’ll see below. Although I’m no longer in the public school classroom, I enjoy continued learning in the field of education, specifically that of Visual Arts and how I can apply methods in my personal studio lessons. I also believe that the ideas presented in this post are applicable beyond classroom walls. Describe a project that defines you as a teacher. On a hot summer day in July right before my first full year of teaching, I went in for my 8 month pregnancy check-up and learned that my baby’s heart had stopped beating, and she would be stillborn. My world turned upside down. As can be expected, it was a struggle to come back to work in August and be the example of strength that my students needed. However, as days went by, I found my desk full of encouraging letters and inspirational paintings that told of students' struggle and how they overcame these challenges. I began looking at the process of making art through new eyes. I realized that these students go through battles at home that I could never fathom, yet they collect the strength to show kindness to others. This is when I knew my calling was not only to teach art, but help students feel art, and how it can help us navigate horrible things we may be going through. In conjunction with community mental health personnel, I facilitate classroom and school-wide art therapy sessions throughout the year. I named this initiative QuARTz. In physical form, quartz crystal is unique in that when light is shown through it, the entire color spectrum becomes visible. I liken this to the human experience. Sometimes we may go through trials that bring us down, but with a bit of light shown into our lives, our colors become visible again. In QuARTz, activities promote personal reflection, artistic expression, and a plan of action. My role is to plan and facilitate artistic activities that are therapeutic in nature, and organize a time and place for meetings. One project done in the past is a body mapping activity. This opportunity is available during every lunch block for an entire week. During this activity, I teach students about the elements and principles of design and color theory, explaining how certain colors, types of line, shapes, etc. can evoke or represent various emotions of the human experience. Students then trace an outline of their bodies onto large butcher paper and use symbolic colors to represent the types of emotions they are experiencing and where in the body these emotions are causing tension or relaxation. Students also use other elements and principles of art, such as zig-zag lines to represent anxiety, or organic shapes to represent a state of calm. In my experience with this project, the two areas of the body that hold the most anxious color are the head and heart. Again, I believe that when a student’s heart and head are simultaneously in the right place, they are able to learn more effectively. At student discretion, a school counselor is present during body mapping to help students with any emotions that are difficult to navigate. Upon completion of this project, students complete a survey revealing their experience as “a creative outlet for expressing feelings without words.” This project is currently ongoing, and provides student opportunities throughout the school year.  Over the next few days, I’ll be sharing some of my answers from the 2018-2019 Georgia Teacher of the Year Candidate Application (I didn’t win Georgia, but I enjoyed representing my county as the district-wide winner!). Although I’m no longer in the public school classroom, I enjoy continued learning in the field of education, specifically that of Visual Arts and how I can apply methods in my personal studio lessons. I also believe that the ideas presented in this post are applicable beyond classroom walls. Describe a content lesson or unit that defines you as a teacher. How did you engage students of all backgrounds and abilities in the learning? How did that learning influence your students? How are your beliefs about teaching demonstrated in this lesson or unit? I think that emotional well-being is a prerequisite for effective student engagement within the classroom. It becomes difficult for a student to learn when their mind is preoccupied with troubling thoughts and anxiety. When students are experiencing any number of circumstances at home, the last thing they feel prepared to do is complete an assessment to their full potential. I believe that equipping these pupils with an individualized and creative outlet should be a top priority, and in turn, can potentially bolster their ability to learn and retain information. Maslow’s hierarchy of needs serves as evidence for how full potential or feelings of accomplishment cannot be met if basic physiological and safety needs are not being met first. For these reasons, the lesson that defines me as a teacher is entitled My Life in Color. Upon arrival on the first day of the lesson, students are asked to answer the following question for an activating strategy: “If today was a color, what color would it be and why?” This encourages students to think of a seemingly concrete idea such as color in a more abstract and emotional context. I then teach students about artistic masters in the areas of Abstract Expressionism and Color Field technique. We analyze and critique works ranging from Jackson Pollock to Mark Rothko. For critiques, the Feldman’s Model of Art Criticism is used and students are asked to identify motifs, themes, and meaning of various pieces of art that contain no realistic imagery, but rather are comprised of abstract shapes of color. Finally, students are asked to self-reflect on various aspects of their lives by answering the following questions: “What color describes your family?” “What color describes your culture as a whole?” “What color describes your best memory?” “What color describes a difficult situation that you have been involved in?” “What color describes how you are feeling at this moment?” Once students have answered these questions, they create a symbolic self-portrait using their chosen colors to represent their lives. Finally, with the exception of the question concerning a difficult situation they have been in, students are asked to complete an in-depth written statement explaining how and why each color is representative of each aspect of their lives. For the exceptional question, students can share as much or as little as they wish within their comfort zone. To know that one matters and can make a difference is of utmost importance. Providing student choice and multicultural connections within this lesson celebrates students of all backgrounds and abilities, and lets them know that they are loved and important. A challenging phenomenon of the human experience is overcoming the tendency to compare our lives to everyone else’s seemingly perfect existences. I imagine this phenomenon is amplified for our youth since they are able to carry a ubiquitous snapshot of people’s lives around in their pockets by way of social media on cell phones. This project provides whole-class opportunity in that every student is asked to pair colors with certain aspects of their lives, but what they come to realize once each person begins applying color to their individual canvases is this: We all struggle. We all experience happy moments. We all have a culture and heritage. But what matters is how we use these truths about ourselves to improve personally and collaboratively. I want my students to be able to celebrate their heritage, families, and all the things that make them so wonderfully unique! Furthermore, I strive to provide them with the understanding that each facet that makes them so individualized can have an incredible impact within our diverse world. Following this lesson, I observe a greater appreciation for artwork that we analyze during class and I also notice that students are enthusiastic about being emotionally connected to their own artwork. In addition, students show evidence of an understanding of what makes art so powerful to the human experience. Connecting with and expressing our personal emotions and understanding how others do the same is a step towards more sound minds for our youth.  Over the next few days, I’ll be sharing some of my answers from the 2018-2019 Georgia Teacher of the Year Candidate Application (I didn’t win Georgia, but I enjoyed representing my county as the district-wide winner!). Although I’m no longer in the public school classroom, I enjoy continued learning in the field of education, specifically that of Visual Arts and how I can apply methods in my personal studio lessons. I also believe that the ideas presented in this post are applicable beyond classroom walls. Question: As a 2018 Georgia Teacher of the Year Candidate, you serve as a spokesperson and representative for teachers and students. What is your message? What will you communicate to your profession and to the public? My message to educators in general would be this: teach for minds AND souls. Make your class the reason students get out of bed and come to school. Reflect on the hardest day of your own life as a student, and be the teacher you needed on that day. Maybe you had just lost a parent. Or perhaps you tore a ligament and had to be benched for the basketball season. The world did not stop turning simply because you were experiencing a difficult situation. You were still expected to come to school, complete homework, and perform well on tests that would most likely determine some of your future. It’s no different for our students. I’m not suggesting that it is acceptable for students to use their situations as habitual excuses to not apply themselves. What I am talking about is showing grace and offering enjoyable, restorative lessons that nourish students intellectually, emotionally, and socially. In addition, do not be afraid to show honest emotion around your students. When I was little, I remember thinking that my teachers slept on cots in their classrooms at night, had no families, and existed simply to be examples of the model citizen. My perceptions changed the day I saw a tear roll down my teacher's cheek while she read a story that reminded her of a loved one who had passed away. At that moment, I realized educators are human. They have families, hobbies, and emotions. My level of responsiveness and respect for teachers soared that day. So, in your own classroom, demonstrate healthy coping skills when you are going through your own trials. Model how determination, participation, and passion can heal and encourage people to thrive in the midst of tribulation, instead of just survive. We don’t always know what situations students are experiencing and the emotional turbulence they are going through, but showing sympathy and empathy in these circumstances may be the reason a student chooses to keep going. Again, I think that an intellectual mind paired with a troubled soul is a setup for compromised potential. Within your classroom, facilitate not only an environment conducive to academics, but also one that supports the emotional well-being of your students. A warm, nurturing environment that integrates student-led activities and expression is not exclusive to art class, and can be employed with any subject matter and across various curriculum. Why not use origami to teach abstract geometrical concepts that some students may not grasp easily? Get out of the classroom and onto a stage when studying Shakespearean literature. Immerse your students into the culture of the Incan Empire with a Google Earth tour. Become aware of how enjoyable and impactful your lesson, regardless of what subject you teach, could be for that student who may have stayed up all night taking care of her siblings, or for a child who did not have any dinner the night before. For art educators specifically, you have an innate gift, and an obligation to share that gift. Yes, teach art history, teach about the great masters, color theory and the elements and principles of art, but don’t forget one of the main aspects that makes a piece of art so powerful, and that is emotional connection. Give your students time to connect with their feelings and mental status. Facilitate opportunities for them to use colors, shapes, and images to express themselves where words cannot. Be warm, kind and supportive. Be an advocate for art therapy, mental health, and the counseling resources available to your students. In addition, offer your professional expertise and the talents of your students to people outside of your classroom. Share the joy of art on a larger scale by hosting school-wide artistic activities and initiatives. Celebrate student success with community exhibitions, social media presence, cross-curricular projects. To the public and community members, you all are an affirmation that hard work pays off. You are examples of successful artists, engineers, musicians, mathematicians, and historians who make a living using your passions. Your support means the world to students, and for that I thank you.  I woke up this morning thinking our house was on fire…
Thankfully as I came to my senses, I realized that my hair was the culprit; An hour running away from the smoke around the campfire the night before roasting the most gooey, charred s’mores. My mouth is watering as I type this. Now it’s afternoon. A different scent wafts through the air around me. Fresh black raspberries from our backyard bramble are baking in the oven underneath a buttery, flakey crisp. I can smell a whisper of sunscreen and chlorine as well; My Kiddo’s swim bag on the floor in the next room. Summer has been a joy so far (and technically, it’s not even summer yet). Summering, if you will, has been easy. But, it took me a while to get here. I wish that Katherine May would write a book about Springing, because spring was hard for me this year. The fickle weather left my circadian rhythm stuck in purgatory. A waiting place between winter and summer. Reading Wintering this past January lulled me into a gentle, cozy slumber that caused me to enjoy the cold months more than I ever have. So much so, that I emerged back into the world late with the herbs rather than early with the daffodils as I have in years past. Spring had nearly come and gone by the time I got back into the swing of things! But you know what? THAT’S HOW IT SHOULD BE. Barren branches don’t sprout green overnight. Wildflowers don’t plunge from barely thawed soil with bright, colorful blooms. Transitions take time. Modeling my life rhythms after those of nature has changed me, and for the better. Summer sun fills our bodies with vitamin D and naturally suppresses melatonin, giving us the much-needed energy to do all of the things! I'm happy to report that I am now wide-awake :) Summer solstice party invitations have been sent out and unnecessary but gorgeously whimsical decor has been bought to prepare. Whereas in winter I snuggled up solo with cocoa and a good book, I’m watching GOT with my bestie over a plate of Asian takeout and good conversation. Instead of capping my painting commissions so that I conserve energy, I’m teaching summer art camp and preparing for three upcoming art shows. My kiddo and I have enjoyed many ice cream dates with pals and impromptu play dates at the park. After months of reluctance, my family is attending church regularly again. Summer is the season of “yes.” I have the energy for “yes.” Before we know it, the stunning colors of fall will be upon us, and so will the need to wind back down for winter rest. I’ll trade in a spontaneous kayaking adventure for an at-home, early pot roast dinner and warm sheets afterwards. But until then, “yes” is my word for the season! In undergrad Art History II, we were assigned a painting from around campus to research and provide evidence that confirmed the artwork’s origins, creator, etc. I was given an advanced challenge, which I hope was because my professor thought me capable of executing it. My work was Girl on a Path, a possible Renoir (as in no one knew for sure if the painting was an original or a forgery). At first glance, the adjacent arrangement of complimentary colors and the subject matter alone are convincing that Brenau Women’s College does indeed have a rare gem in the university’s permanent collection. However, I did and could again present 2-3 pages of evidence supporting either side of the speculation. But I’d like to discuss something entirely different, and that is the speculation in and of itself. Be forewarned that I’m about to get all cringey and existential, but hear me out: The girl on the path within the scene is the only one who knows the truth. What must she think of everyone’s speculation? I wonder what she would think of the Harvard art professional I spoke with during my research that said he concludes the painting is in fact a Renoir original because it is simply “charming?” How typical of the human experience for someone to label something so complex with such a superficial term in order to support their evidence. Such is life, am I right? Folks from all walks looking in on us, gathering the most surface-level evidence to support their opinions of us. I’ve judged folks also. We all have. What I adore about this girl on the path is her inability to affirm or deny the speculations. She just exists. Therein lies the rub though: I’m human, so I have a ubiquitous tendency to affirm or deny people’s speculations, BUT I can resist. I am capable of at least that. I branched out to pursue my art business a little over one year ago, and I think that’s how long it has taken me to realize this. I’ve become at home with myself. I understand what unique gifts and values I do offer the world, not what gifts and values I should offer the world. Once upon a time when I was a teacher, people would ask me what I did for a living. “Teacher” was a satisfactory answer that gave way to comfortable small talk of security and college degrees. Now, a look of uncertainty overtakes people’s faces when I tell them that I’m simply an artist. Speculation follows, sometimes verbally and sometimes only as nervous energy. The need to affirm or deny the many concerns of these curious folks is relentless; The need to explain that my bills are still paid and I’m more fulfilled emotionally, physically, mentally, and spiritually than I’ve ever been. But I am happy to say that I’m comfortable just existing nowadays, without all of the explanations. The thing is, I’m not a PTA mother. I don’t enjoy creating abstract, conversational artwork. Counting macros and doing HIIT doesn’t work for me. I’m an artist who doesn’t thoroughly enjoy visiting art museums. I parent an only-child. I don’t get my nails done or maintain my balayage in a timely manner. I’m a Girl Scout leader who has never been a Girl Scout. I’m not mother-of-the-year. I am someone who can offer community children the gift of art. I love creating stylized, conversational artwork. I’m a food addict who is making progress with medication. I’m an artist who thoroughly enjoys visiting aquariums. I parent an only-child because my family feels complete. I have dirt under my nails and leaves in my hair because I’m a Girl Scout leader who is choosing to learn to make fires using only sticks. I’m a mother/previous educator who is well-read on child development and is equipped to choose the people, places, and things that will be a part of my child’s life and feel good about it. I exist as the artist, wife, mother, and person that I am. And that’s it. The cherry-on-top is the secondary ability that comes with just existing: to genuinely celebrate my family and friend’s authenticity because I’ve released the smothering shoulds that overwhelm us all at times. So, to the girl on the path, thank you for bringing those countless hours of research full circle over 10 years later and offering me countless more hours of existing authentically.
Wintering is nearly finished. The mountain is slowly awakening from hibernation. Golden beeches sprinkled throughout the woods are now flanked with the first buds of spring; a visual transition from rest to arousal. This morning, I went out into the warm sun to check my herb garden for signs of growth. The oregano and mint are promising, with lots of new buds protruding through the leaf cover. The thyme though? Eh. Too early to tell. I can’t help but relate. There are scraggly signs of awakening, but mostly still dormant. This winter has been the best winter. Choosing to rest and lean into the natural rhythm of the season made all of the difference. I’d say so much so, that I’m a bit groggy as I reluctantly attempt to ready myself for the energy of spring and the demands of Quarter 2-Quarter 4 that will bring art shows, wedding paintings, and summer art camps. I wonder if it’s the lingering fatigue of the virus I had a couple of weeks ago? Or maybe a result of restless sleep from the steroids trying to treat said virus. Unfortunately for me, with depleted energy comes frequent intolerance as well. I’ve already overdone it. I’ve ventured into too many bargain stores during weekend prime-time and shown up to one-too-many crowded gatherings with overwhelming opinions and unsolicited advice. Where my tank had been slowly filling back up in preparation for warmth, I’m now back at “E.” A plus of the fatigue: time to read. I’ve long been a fan of the self-help genre. As a matter of fact, It’s been long enough to make these types of reads a bit repetitive by now. The Alchemist, though, is a breath of fresh air. For me, the book itself literally became a physical manifestation of the story inside; the universe (specifically God) conspiring to help me achieve my goals and dreams as an artist, and reminding me to help others on their journeys as well. As I march onward for the next couple of weeks towards spring, this passage will resonate:  Hearts do whisper things to keep us on track; Moments of resolve when stepping out of a room of diet talk and onto a cafe rooftop table with your best friend, garlic bread, a river view, and no “fix-you” advice. Feelings of release when you bypass unsolicited employment opportunities in favor of invitations from family and friends wanting to visit the gallery and see your latest artwork on exhibit. I don’t like going out into the world tired, intolerant, and on “E.” I don’t possess the kindness and grace required to navigate the inevitable well-meaning annoyances and inconveniences. In these moments of depletion, I also don’t have the necessary consciousness to realize when I’m being the annoyance or inconvenience in other people’s lives. So, I plan to milk these next two weeks of winter, listening to all the little heart moments from now until then, allowing them to fill my tank back up, and hopefully to overflowing. I’m forever grateful that I ended up with an amazing second grade teacher, high school art teacher, and two Appalachian parents who all supported and enthusiastically encouraged my love of art throughout my schooling. That’s rare in these parts.
Now before you get madder’na wet hen, that’s no jab at mountain folk. I am mountain folk. It’s simply the truth. This is my story to tell, and the lack of interest/support of the arts is a very real part of my experience as a young artist growing up in small-town Georgia, Sand Mountain to be exact. An insensitive and lost opportunity would be had if I couldn’t recognize WHY this is the case. But I do. The view of art, especially as a career is a generationally held viewpoint that birthed from the necessity of practicality. First, Trenton is flanked by not one, but two mountains which had to have made expansion a bit more difficult than comparable Appalachian regions, hence a perfect storm for familial beliefs and ways of living to brew, with not much need to adapt or progress. Second, mountain people are resilient, hardworking, and know the anguish of watching corporations wallow in the wealth of resources extracted by our people who only have calluses, black lung, and a modest paycheck to show for it. I reckon anyone forced to focus on mere survival would view art as a petty luxury that only people who could entertain “thriving” rather than “surviving” could afford. So I get it. I really do. I do recognize that all of this didn’t stop us from creating some of the most beautiful folk art on the planet, but it did stump the prospects of art as anything more than a weekend hobby for many of us. I think that’s where the challenge arose for me. Let me preface by saying that I speak from a place of privilege in that my parents did break the generational cycle of poverty that shrouded our family tree and therefore were more able and willing to entertain art as my career choice.I wanted art to be my livelihood; a radical notion to generations past. When someone asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I received hesitant “oh okays” rather than sincere accolades when I announced that I wanted to be an artist or designer. In a town so fond of supporting athletics, I found approval and fellowship on the ball fields or gymnasiums. When it came to art though, there wasn’t anyone else, or so I thought. To my initial joy and frustration a few years back, I learned that our town had actually had an active arts council throughout my young years; Joy because I realized that despite the stigma, our little town actually had been interested in cultivating the arts, and frustration because I had no idea back then. Why had the school not worked with the council to connect young artists with council mentors? Were community artists even interested in investing time into teenagers? Were the schools even interested in investing time into fine art students? I’m sure there was an abundance of red tape that kept all these connections and investments from happening, or so I hope at least. I’m happy to announce that the local arts council has since been reestablished, and I would be remiss not to mention other artistic endeavors that folks in the community have undertaken. Our local library offers monthly art experiences for the teenagers in our community, many of which are taught by local practicing artists and/or art council members. In addition, the county visitor center displays locally-made art and has an arts committee responsible for hosting a community art show which was hugely successful for the first show! I was ecstatic to see that three of my previous art students participated. The little mountain community that my mother grew up in hosts an area-famous arts and crafts festival and the best chicken stew for a chilly autumn day. Also, all four county schools now have art class offerings, and I offer private art lessons to students wanting one-on-one instruction. Despite prominent progress, our Appalachian home still has room for growth in the arena of fine art. Young artists, often students, are recruited for community beautification projects, business logos, poster designs etc. for a discount price. Folks mean well offering them opportunities to practice their craft, but they should be compensated fairly. Many art-related businesses, galleries, and cafes lay boarded up in vacant gravel lots and plazas throughout the county. In addition, as a student liaison for the Public Arts Committee, I still find it challenging to engage the students at our public schools for artistic community opportunities. Art falls into the cracks between more “practical” jobs, soccer practice, homework, AP classes, homework, family, etc. And that makes sense for people not particularly interested in art. But for students who live and breathe art as I did, I hope that their calluses are validated in our Appalachian community also, even though hard labor or sporting equipment didn’t create them; A paint brush did. |
AuthorArt business owner journaling about my artistic adventures. Archives
October 2024
Categories |
RSS Feed