If You Could Be Your Own Superhero, What or Who Would You Be?

Let’s catch up on my life, it was like all of a minute that I was on the journey to get certified, to teach art in public high school, here in CT. I busted my ass to finish 18 credits and pass the Art Praxis Test. Two of the classes that I completed don’t count towards certification, this was a real zinger. There was a misunderstanding and I have to take two more classes. We won’t express how angry I was! Fast forward to the present moment where teaching fell to the back burner because I have decided to open an Art Studio with two women. Put the brakes on, wait what!!?? Yes, I am part of a new business opening in Bristol. I am thrilled. http:/www.creativejamartco.com

Because of our new biz, we were vending this past Sunday, at a public place. We advertised our presence publicly. Because of social media and all that….this happened….

A woman and her family show up at our table and she asks for me, by my name. It takes me all of a second to know who is standing before me. I will call her H in respect of her privacy. She pulls out a polaroid from 1997. At first I am speechless and honestly, a few days later, as I write this, I still don’t have the right words to describe what happened. I cried, this I can say with no shame. We embraced and we both had a good cry. Honestly, how does one respond in this moment, with open arms and acceptance of what is.

H on the left, me on the right, in the Polaroid. I always took Polaroids of my students. I took her on a trip to NYC.

I was pursuing a teaching certification because I want to give back to my community. I want to give back the way I was given to by my 7th/8th grade art teacher. I mention him often, Mr. Johnson. He has the best spot in my heart. Our art club, at my middle school, was a safe place for me. I could just be, and be me.

Me and my Girl!

H showing up, seeking me out, to tell me that I was there for her, that I “saw” her and that I made a difference in her life, is no small task. It has been about 25 years since we last saw each other. She has a story, we all do. But hers, well, I crossed her path at a place called “Gray Lodge Shelter for Women, a residential treatment program for young women ages 12 – 18 located in Hartford, CT. The Shelter for Women was founded in 1889, and for over a century it has provided shelter and support services for young women in need.” This was my first real teaching experience and I loved that it was at a place for girls in need. That sounds silly to say now, but my 27 year old self thought I could learn how to teach art there and be useful. I was in grad school at Hartford Art School and my thesis work was centered in trauma. My work tested the hot spots of trauma, how it manifests in adult life.

Gray Lodge is now used by The Village of Families and Children in Hartford.

With bravado, I walked in the doorway of Gray Lodge to teach some very difficult but lovable kids, who were acting out their traumas. I, too, was a full on trauma kid – but my needs were being addressed. Thanks to my mom for seeing that both my brother and I needed help, so she found us a counselor. I was about 9 years old. I continued seeing this specific counselor until she passed away. I was in my mid 30’s. Me and the girls at Gray Lodge had a lot more in common than I realized.

H’s photo’s from our fashion show. I am in the bottom, left photo. H is in the top photo. She kept a photo album.
Group shot of all the girls wearing their Power Suits!

I had a grand idea and we spent months attempting to make this idea come to be. We made our own super hero outfits, outfits with POWER. My intention was a grand finale, a fashion show. I challenged the girls to make an outfit that would give them all the power in the world to do and to be the person who they wanted to be. Little did I know, or comprehend, that each girl would go through an incredible emotional feat while working on their Power Suit. Some only got as far as the drawing, some spent days in the biggest anxiety filled emotions, refusing to work on or finish their Power Suit. Some, absolutely, decided to NOT finish it. Others refused to walk out on stage, and others cried because no one came to see them and yes, there were girls who did have family/people come and that was too difficult, they too, refused to walk out on stage also. The amount of emotional rollercoaster strength that came from that experience has guided me over the years.

Making Art isn’t always about the piece, the product, or the thing. It is about the journey, the joys and pains, the walk abouts, the indecision, and the finally the decision to just stop.

I never went into teaching to “make a difference” I went into it to teach art and by doing so, by opening the door to the unlimited possibilities of what art can be and what that means, I made a difference anyway.

As for H, I stayed in touch with her for about a year after I left Gray Lodge. She is now a counselor here in CT, and this is truly remarkable. She has her own Power Suit now, one that fits her really well.

I have been given permission to use these photos and talk a bit about H. – Thank you.

Always Learning Something

What is the big deal? The big deal is that I have completed 6 classes towards my teacher certification. Both boys are in public school now and yes, I even started a teaching job three weeks ago. I have one more class and the Praxis test and then I will be finished. This past week I finished my final exams for my art classes at Tunxis Community College here in CT. Little did I know that when I signed up for these classes I would find the thing that makes me sing, the artistic impulse that has been tucked away for a very long time. I know I am a good student and I was in “student” mode. On our first day we had to write a note to our selves and the professor gave them back to us this week before our critiques. I had forgotten about the note. Reading my note addressed to myself, I was filled with awe. I wished myself “Lucky” success as if that “y” was an astrick of glitter or sparkle or fairy dust that would grant my wishes. I suppose it was a spelling error, no matter, to my surprise I did a what I set out to do!

While I was home schooling our kids, raising our kids all my creative energy went into that. I am a very good multitasker but my creative flow concerning my art, well it was not flowing.

While attending classes, of course I saw myself as a student. Not sure why I feel the need to compartmentalize but being artist and being student where not mutual, not one in the same. I went into my art classes as a student not as an artist. However, my artist self appeared and is here to stay.

Part of this certification process allowed me to take classes in my area of interest. Art classes – YEAH! I wanted in person, not on line, something practical like Electronic Drawing and Painting and something new to me, Illustration. The way I felt about my decision was my willingness to be super open and ready for a challenge, learn something new, just jump in. A prerequisite for these classes was drawing 2. In my undergraduate experience I had taken 6 drawing classes, I think that qualified me. But I had to have a discussion with the enrollment person to verify this… slightly annoying to me. I bring this up to say that after I started to produce work for my assignments and I shared with my peers, friends, family they also forgot that I DO have this experience or ability. Maybe I forgot too.

My life is busier than it has ever been and I somehow found the time to focus, be in art flow, leave my work area…aka dining room table and leave it a mess, spend 5 minutes working, go do life and then come back. I was switching hats, artist, mom, student, wife, friend and back again. I MISSED this so much. The assignments from both classes were every bit of a lot and a little of all of what I needed. My professor, Jackie Decker, was amazing, joyful and was the perfect cure to my missing artist.

I know time and perspective have a lot to do with perception but my youthful art making days were filled with dark, intense, questioning, and provocative artwork all of which I loved. I was even a snob about pretty things, I was anti sweet and beautiful things. We joked about it, I still have a prickly edge going on today but nothing like the past. I didn’t mean to and as you can see below, that edge is still there. But is different now.

I bring all this up to say that not only did I tap into my flow and get into my creative groove but I also found a way into making art that is sweet, and yes, beautiful. I have experienced so much trauma in my life, I deserve to be able to make art that is free of that. In our first critique in the illustration class, I was expecting what I was familiar with- harsh, critical and even brutal. Please do not get me wrong. I thrived on that, like give it to me because I want my work to be the best. However, that is not how this professor works. She moved and spoke from a place of joy and sweetness and she uplifted her students, and more importantly -ME.

All excuses aside I showed up to my final for electronic drawing and painting with what I consider unfinished work. I have an idea that has been in my heart for a few years now and I have not been able to translate it to paper. I decided to attempt the ideas for my final. It took me a while to “just do it”. With starting a new job and the kids’ baseball and life there really wasn’t much time to “finish it”. And without getting caught up in all the art speak, my unfinished pieces were in fact perfectly finished. After hearing the responses from my classmates and my professor I was filled with such emotion I wanted to cry. Not unusual for me but it is a truth. Pure joy – wow.

The details of my ideas are not a surprise to my family and friends. I have been wanting to write and illustrate a children’s book but I was not happy with my ideas. They were not illustrating a feeling that I wanted to portray. However, I never imagined that by the end of my semester class I would be closer to my goal … and well, I am! I have set my summer plans in motion. 20-30 illustrations ? Agent finding me a publisher? Publisher saying yes?

My boys inspire me in so many ways. The baking experience brought joy to our whole family. We learned to love deserts and we even became aficionados, aka desert snobs. This story is about that joy of learning, living, loving and just being. I thank my boys everyday for what they have taught me. Through my art classes this semester I was able to find my way. I am forever grateful. A book is in the works.

Traveling in My Mind

Oddly enough quarantine allowed me to discover that I need some time off. I gave myself freedom to create a space to travel in, and be creative and be in the “zone”.

One of the pieces I worked on inspired by the class in the link below.

A month ago Adoni and I started an art class called Spread Your Artistic Wings through Intuitive Art with Maria Fondler-Grossbaum. I had purchased this class in the fall of 2019. I did it in an effort to “create” during my time in Dominican Republic… before Rio and Baseball in DR took over. And of course it didn’t happen, I couldn’t make the time and when I did try I didn’t have internet to actually watch the tutorials. So many excuses per my usual life. Or I shouldn’t be so hard on myself. We live a very busy life, a full life.

Checking out my materials, Dominican Republic, January, 2020.

https://abyssimo.teachable.com/p/spread-your-artistic-wings-through-intuitive-art

In my current mindset all I want to do is travel inward not outward. For the first time in years I just want to be in that creative zone and create. While Adoni and I worked that second day we created for hours. He emerged from the “zone” because his tummy was calling for food. When he looked at the time he was surprised. We had been traveling inward for 3 hours. Since, I have secretly cried multiple times as I miss THIS. In one of Maria’s classes she makes a joke about being philosophical talking about traveling inward. Granted this video was made long before Covid-19, long before quarantine. In it she challenges everyone to travel inward and even suggests that we don’t need to pay for travel to far away places to feel freedom and relaxation. That if we allow ourselves to open our minds and draw freely without judgment we can travel very far.

One of the pieces I worked on inspired by the class in the link above.

And I did, I went to the “zone”. Truthfully I am not sure I will be coming back to the life I was living anytime soon. So please excuse me if I don’t want to meet up, join the gathering or fly some where because I am already there in my mind, in my creative place.

One of Adoni’s pieces inspired by the class in the link above.

Thank You

A room with a view. It was my view inside looking out in June 2015. I was recovering from a surgery, one that thankfully saved my life. I had a colon resection in order to see if the cancer that was found during a colonoscopy had metastasized. It had not. My recovery room had a view of my house, the back of my house. I live a 5 minute walk from Bristol Hospital, where I had my surgery.

I can’t really explain in words, the feeling and comfort I felt knowing I could see my house from my hospital room. I also was on heavy duty pain meds, so my feelings were a bit intense. I swore I had taken a photograph of that view but after skimming back through I regretfully didn’t. I do have a photograph of the plants and flowers from friends and family, in that window, but not the “view”.

Fast forward to the present moment. My view, from my house, from my back porch, from my garden, is of Bristol Hospital. Occasionally, I have a fleeting memory of my time in the hospital but always I am thankful. The building is always there to remind me.

Fernandez Family

This current stay home, stay safe has me seeing the hospital a lot. And my thoughts are full of hope and sadness. I am thinking about all the folks working at the hospital and the folks who have been admitted to the hospital, and everyone all over our country, Dominican Republic and the world. Wow, that is overwhelming.

On my end of the street there are 4 medical people and several essential people who live here. Once upon a time in my former art life I made several public art pieces, including a banner that was done without permission and I hung it from a building in downtown Hartford. I am still not sure how I really pulled that off. Those were the days when I was more passionate about all things art. This week I felt inspired to make a banner to hang on the backside of our house for all the people at Bristol Hospital and our town of Bristol, CT.

My view.
Another view.

From Marlo and the boys, Thank you. Thank you to everyone who is doing the hard work. ❤️