Collage and Pieces of Me

Our local library started a Creative Group and in our first session we were introduced to collage. Although I’ve been doing art most of my life, collage is something I’ve had great curiosity about but never quite delved into. This was fun and this one which I’ve titled “Swimmers” is a bit of a conundrum for me, as I don’t really understand it. Then again, that’s true for a lot of my art. Sometimes I know instantly as they emerge on the canvas what they mean to me, and other times it takes years before the meaning is clear.

The title “Swimmers” felt right because of the fish, but also because I was listening to a song titled “Swimmers” by Zero 7 over and over as I created this work. Music has a huge impact on my art and I usually can’t create without it. It’s common practice for me to hear a song that deeply speaks to the way I feel, even if I don’t know how to describe the way I feel in words, and then I play the song on repeat as I paint or create a work of art in another medium. This is something I’ve been doing all my adult life.

The first part of this collage that came together is the body with the white dress, the orange flower, and the face which sits above the neck so there’s a space between the head and neck. This kind of makes sense to me with how I’ve felt since the strokes. My head isn’t the same. I added the white circle above which is a drawing by Galileo of the solar system. Made sense to me again, as I often feel very spacey and a bit disconnected.

I’ll continue working with collage as I think they’re powerful, as powerful as any other creative medium in showing me something that needed to be expressed but that I wasn’t sure was there.

Make Your Own Parade

With the arrival of Spring, naturally my spirits are a bit lifted and heart is lightened. This is a big thing, considering all that last year brought and the remnants that are still present to be moved through as they come. I am remembering many things, particularly moments and experiences over the course of the last twelve years or so when my creativity was given an opportunity to shine and when I was able to rise to an occasion to present my most bright and colorful self to the world. A secondary but equal benefit was the hope that whatever it is I did or was involved in would somehow make a positive impact on the world around me. Would touch people’s hearts.

I didn’t organize the parade I led the day this photo was taken. My dear friend Ginger Balizer-Hendler wrote a book titled “The Adventures of Gingerella” that became a musical theatrical work, and also an installation in Riverhead, NY. Ginger’s book is absolutely heartwarming. With a hint of “The Little Prince”, she wrote characters in the form of animals, except for the main character Gingerella. The story is about Peace. When she asked me if I would like to contribute to her installation in Riverhead, I didn’t hesitate to say yes! I created a few floating beings which were incorporated into her installation (one image can be seen here on my website on my Mixed Media page) and Ginger also asked if I would lead a parade from the gallery to the local organic community garden, leaving the costume and presentation up to me. It was such a joy to be there and when I saw this photo that my dear friend Renata took, and saw that people had been following me… yes, indeed I was leading a parade!… it warmed my heart so much!

When I look at my home movies, I’m a ham, I ran around in circles, danced and pranced and posed for the camera, and had so much energy! It was always in me. In my dysfunctional family, I wasn’t seen so eventually I became invisible, or so I thought. That was then. How I made it from there to here is, really, a miracle!

When I was a child, I wanted to sing and thought I could but it was made clear that it was better and safer to stay quiet. I loved dancing but clearly that was out too. So I turned to visual art. It was quiet and I could do it any time, even in the comfort of my own room without anyone knowing. Same with writing. But art saved me, really saved me through so much of my life. It still is and ART will always be my first love. But honestly, I go in many directions, creatively-speaking.

In 2012, I learned I could sing when I joined a choir and have been singing on my own and even writing songs ever since. When I was drawn to butoh dance in 2010 and then began busking up in town, people’s reactions told me I could, and that I was making a difference. I had to reach out to discover myself. I had to put myself in new situations to see what would happen. I had to “make my own parade”. Then people saw me! I was invited to dance at events and was even paid for some. I was invited to do photo shoots, like the creative shoots I did with the talented Alex M. Wolff. Those were fun and really helped me embrace my love of costume and drama and the end result were photos I can look back on that tell stories. I had to put the ball in motion by putting myself out there and there was a chance I would be laughed at, or worse… not seen at all. But I was seen, and acknowledged, and invited to continue. So I did, whenever I could.

When I was in my 20’s a family member knew the well-known Civil War artist from my home town, Mort Kunstler and introduced me to him. Mr. Kunstler invited me to his beautiful home and he and his wife were so gracious and down to earth. He gave me advice as a young artist. He told me to show my art wherever and whenever I could because we never know who will notice us and what it will lead to. I remember that day vividly and have taken that advice as one of my life’s mottos.

And here I am… still dealing with chronic illness (walked with a cane in 2009, symptoms eased then cane again in 2012, symptoms eased, then cane again now) and the strokes of last year and still I am painting! I put myself out there in the ways that I can. And truthfully I go much slower than I’d like and need to rest much more often than I would choose to, but it is necessary. This is not just age. This is not age. This is chronic illness and as I write, I am acknowledging to the depths of my heart my immense bravery, fortitude, and strength of spirit. As I look over the photos of the performances I have done, often I did not know if I could get there until I was there. Occasionally I did not make it and had to let someone down, but it was met with compassion and I was much harder on myself than anyone else could have been because I really, really want to do so much. Life is absolutely beautiful. It can be ugly but we choose what to focus on. Good to stay aware and balanced and not all “head in the clouds” but it is so necessary to know when to turn it all off and go shine someplace.

Dance and movement are something I am working my way back to, and ART is ever-present and holds me up every day. The smell of a room that is used for oil painting is home for me. I am doing all that I can and still, if I had perfect health and lived a hundred years, there still wouldn’t be time enough to do all the wonderful things my heart pulls me toward. I try to stay in touch with it all because as I recover from the strokes and the depression and anxiety that have followed, it’s so important for me to remember the things I CAN do, to remember the things I have done, the things that light me up from the inside, the things that make me forget about the concept of time, and the things that make me feel more than okay. And… at any time, on any day, knowing that I have the power to reach for one of these things and make my own parade.

Art Breakthrough

After my strokes last year, I painted many Circle Paintings and I wrote about them in previous posts in this blog. Toward the end of 2022, I felt something more needed to be expressed. Not to diminish the significance of the circles. Actually, I think they are a super important period of my work and who knows if I may turn back to them when they are needed. But I was beginning to feel stuck creatively. Subtle visions drifted through my damaged brain and would float away as quickly as they came, so by the time I had a piece of paper or blank canvas in front of me, nothing came. There may as well have been a brick wall in front of my face. It was excruciating.

When I look back on my life, at times when my art really saved me, I can look to the 80s and 90s when I was so prolific. Those years were challenging because of health issues (heart, lungs, etc.) and most of all losing so many people close to me. In the 90s, every six months someone I cared about passed away. So much was processed through my art and when I felt uneasy, I’d go to the canvas and out came an image, a story that told me something I didn’t know but only felt gnawing at my gut until my hands and eyes and paintbrush brought it out into material form.

With everything that transpired in 2022, I needed my art again and I suppose once the Circle Paintings no longer felt like enough, perhaps it was a sign that my brain was healing. But it was so uncomfortable, not to be able to express. The aphasia with my ability to speak and understand others, including reading and writing, was also extended to doing art. What a kick in the pants.

Something I’ve known about myself for a while is that whenever I get uncomfortable with something in my life, maybe at first I crumble, but then I rise like a tiger and go on a voracious hunt for the answer. I remembered how I was a candidate for a Master’s Degree in Art Therapy years ago before I had to stop working and always hoped I’d be able to go back to school some day. My dream was to get the PhD. That is no longer possible for me, so I have to let that dream go, along with other dreams. But I remembered taking classes at night after work and how powerful different mediums are and how art helps us heal. I remembered and reached out. A couple of months ago, I began working with an Art Therapist and it was the best, healthiest thing I could have done.

Since I began working with the Art Therapist, I have had a breakthrough and am painting again. The Circle Paintings were necessary as I could do nothing else after the strokes. Then as 2022 wrapped up, there was something more that wanted to emerge but the connection between inner and outer wasn't there. Then after many sessions with the Art Therapist, the creative flood gates opened and it is so cathartic!

Even though I have continued physical weakness, pain, numbness, aphasia, short term memory loss, balance issues, and eye issues, the ART is helping me speak and express myself. I am healing from so much - the strokes, losses, and other life challenges. Facing these things head on and addressing the myriad of emotions associated with them is what I embrace with all my heart. ART is a huge healer. Music is too. But the ART is helping in such a big way.

There are many creative pursuits for me now, not only creating art but showing it and I look for opportunities to show my art to feel hopeful, to keep myself looking forward, to keep my hands and my mind active, and to help with healing.

Above is “Impact”, my first painting this year. It can mean so many things. If anyone asks me, I’d be okay sharing what it means to me.

A Healing Heart

This photo is of me painting "Heart Birds" in early 2020. It is a painting about healing the heart and will be included in my show at The Gallery @ opening on January 22nd in Huntington, NY. The day of the opening marks one year and a day after my first stroke last year, so the reception will be a celebration of life. Hard to see all the colors and metallic gold of the background, but the photo shows its size.

I needed to paint this. With so much loss in my my life (and much more since), I had to paint a healing heart, one protected by the heart birds as I call them, a sign of something Divine, protecting my heart. The heart has been a subject in my art since the mid 1990’s when I was diagnosed with a rare heart issue. One in a thousand people in the world have it, I was told. Then in the last ten years I was diagnosed with another heart issue. Arrhythmias are just a part of my life but I never get quite used to them. Back in the 90’s, I painted so many…. “In My Heart”, “Broken Heart”, “Heart Mountain”, “Garden Heart” (which I gifted to my cardiologist at St. Francis Hospital), “Umbrella”, and I even created a large wooden sculpture that I painted in oils titled “Melting Heart”. One lady who saw it dubbed it “anatomy on a stick”, which was kind of funny and okay with me, since that’s what it looked like.

At least I’m painting a healing heart now, although I don’t think the heart is immune to pain, no matter how hard we try to protect it. Things will happen in the world that will hurt us that we can’t control. People will be cruel and unkind and we can’t control that, we can only control how we respond to it. The best we can do is go easy with ourselves, especially when we do the best we can with every day. We can do our best to stay away from situations and people who aren’t healthy for us, those who bully us, make us feel bad, hurt our hearts. The world may not be kind but we can choose to treat ourselves kindly, especially if we are conscious of how we are in the world. If we’re good people. If we treat others with kindness, compassion, and respect. If we are a presence of goodness in the world, even if it is the little bit of world around us. Go easy on ourselves and our hearts, especially if they’ve been through enough. I know mine has.

It's Okay to Be Sad, It's Okay to be Scared

A young, vibrantly creative woman of 28 sat in her hospital bed as a doctor who she later found out had no idea what he was doing was about to give her an unnecessary pacemaker and perform numerous unnecessary EPS procedures on her heart while she was fully awake. Her mother died less than a year earlier and her father, once caring but now aloof with grief, had just married one of her childhood friends. After the unnecessary pacemaker was installed, her left lung collapsed. Her grandmother who lived in another state, who she was very close to, was about to have open heart surgery and they spoke over the phone from their hospital beds. Her fiance, who didn’t drive, came to visit her every day by train. At least she had that connection. She had to stop working. She was also in the middle of a lawsuit where a public library banned several of her paintings the year before and when she challenged them, they canceled her show. Two years later she won the case in Federal Court and it set a precedent in the Eastern District of New York. But here she was, almost helpless not knowing what to do and so very sad for the losses in her life, and scared for her grandmother, and in need of support, and feeling so very alone. The sketchbook this drawing is in and these pastel drawings were her way to cope. That woman was me, in 1993. I am so strong and really see how strong I am when I think about all the things like this that I’ve been through and all the times when I’ve had to dig the deepest to find my inner core of strength, and I think f*uck yeah, I AM STRONG. But now…. so many years later, after strokes and other things….. some days I feel I just can’t do it anymore. I just cannot take one more thing. I love life so I will keep rising with every new day, every sunrise. But I just don’t know how some days to make my way.