NAEA Seattle 2018

(I should probably add that I wrote out a HUGE post with descriptions of all the pictures and an awesome review of my trip to Seattle and it all got deleted and this was all that was left of my draft, so it will have to do!).

This trip had some weighty expectations... It has been two years since I have been on a longish trip away from my kids, and SIX years since I last did it completely by myself (you know, back when I had one kid and thought I was a stress-ball leaving him alone with my inlaws! ha!!). I have needed this break and renewal for a really long time but when the time came and I got to the airport, I just completely lost it.

What was I doing? I was overwhelmed with guilt in "leaving" my kids, abandoning "my post", etc. It didn't help that the twins had not been feeling well in the two days before I left but the GUILT was almost more than I could bear. After some deep breaths and reflection, I accepted my present. I was a good mom, and I deserved to have this time to figure out if art education was still the path I should be (slowly!) working my way back towards. I read a book on the flight out to Seattle and those 2.5 hours were filled with inspiration... I arrived in a completely different mindset and I was READY.

Thursday started bright and early with classes from 8am-6pm (there are a couple hundred every day, and I chose ahead of time which classes I would be taking each day to fit what I felt I was interested in or what I thought my needs were). I enjoyed a few classes, some were okay and some were just...not good. I snuck off during my one hour 10am break to the Seattle Art Museum and was...less than inspired (and mostly upset that I had "wasted" $10).But I had a delicious waffle on the way and the sweet security guard outside the museum made sure I went inside to eat it instead of wolfing it down outside in the rain, so not all was lost. I spent the rest of the day in classes and emerged around 6pm with the worst headache. I missed the bus back to Cassie and Brady's by literally 30 seconds (boo!!) and got a steakburger while I waited for the next one (a very belated lunch!! I brought snacks but nothing substantial and nothing at the convention center was very good. Honestly they just have a bunch of Coffee shops. Does everyone live on just coffee around here?). I rode home seriously bummed, wondering if my decision to be an art teacher was going to be one with a lifetime full of headaches??? I haven't had THOSE kinds of migraine headaches since the early days with the twinners and before that when I was teaching high school.

But I was determined not to let that day define my weekend. So I went back on Friday, saw Chihuly (!!!), attended some truly inspirational conference sessions and realized that this was where I needed to be. This was the place for me to make my mark and if I was unhappy then I needed to change my way of teaching, grading, thinking, making in order to make it my own and make me happy. Then Saturday I got to hang out with Brady and Cassie and Sunday I finished reading "7 Habits of Highly Effective People" and that has changed my brain and so much of what I hope to do with my life going forward on so many levels, I cannot begin to describe it. It was a once in a lifetime trip and a wonderful start to a new phase of my life that begins with the twins being fully potty trained and SO MUCH FREEDOM from that!! Can't wait to come back with Drew in a few months.

 FAVORITE CHIHULY OF ALL TIME

Today was the day I decided I wanted (needed?) to be an Art Teacher: My WHY

In college I set my sights on a Political Science major because I thought it would be cool to be a Diplomat to another country. True story. After two semesters of mostly C's, my dad politely suggested I think about switching to something different. Art Education was always my backup plan because my entire life people have commented or told me I was artistic, creative, etc (probably just to be nice since my little sister got straight A's and was amazing at math and science) and to be honest, I enjoyed the process of creating art and had a really good high school art teacher who really let me take my time with projects I loved and was invested in (and came up with my own ideas for). I also knew I always wanted to be a teacher, I loved teaching. So I did it, but I was never the best art student and never the best at teaching art but it was a degree so I went ahead and did it because that was what felt right. But once little d came along it was hard to see past the present into the future and my WHY for teaching art never fully formulated because it was swallowed up in my desire to embrace motherhood.

And the last five years since I left teaching have been a struggle. I was no longer a teacher and raising 4 kids in that time did not lend itself kindly to me pursuing any sort of artistic interest. Why bother being an art teacher if I haven't made any art in 5 years?

And then it came to me.

Epiphany #1 came in the form of 2 quotes I found while trying to figure out my existential mid-life crisis.

"The imitator is a poor kind of creature. If the man who paints only the tree, or flower, or other surface he sees before him were an artist, the king of artists would be the photographer."

– James McNeill Whistler (1834–1903), American-born, British-based artist, The Gentle Art of Making Enemies (1890)

The craftsman knows what he wants to make before he makes it.…The making of a work of art…is a strange and risky business in which the maker never knows quite what he is making until he makes it.

– R.G. Collingwood (1889–1943), English philosopher, The Principles of Art (1938)

I gave up years ago on recreating photographs via a painting or drawing, which was what I spent a lot of my teenage years doing and loving (because it took up a lot of time and I had that time to sit and think!). I say I gave it up mostly because if there was a photograph I really liked, I would just use that photograph as a work of art! By definition of the second quote (which I agree with) came

Epiphany #2, I DO prefer to work as a craftsman. I like coming up with something that would look good in a space or have a functional purpose (like the superhero logos or ninja turtle portraits I painted in our last house). If what my vision is does not come out the way I intended, it usually ended up in my parent's basement (or ultimately in the trash). What I am not good about doing is taking risks in my art, probably because I like to have a plan and I have never really had any practice doing something creatively risky without knowing what the outcome would be.

Then came
Epiphany #3: I have learned and acquired a lot of wonderful art skills and talent but I am not a "true artist" (meaning all I want to do/need to do is create art), and I am okay with that. (that last part was really hard for me to grasp for YEARS!). I am SO blessed in my life, my life is full of joy and hopefully that is evident for my readers who see the beautiful pictures of my awesome kids that I have plastered all over this blog. But "real" artists, as I am coming to realize, really connect with an emotion (usually grief or sadness) in a truly unique way that I have not felt in my life to share.

What is art? Art grows out of grief and joy, but mainly grief. It is born of people’s lives.

– Edvard Munch (1863–1944), Norwegian artist, in Edvard Munch: The Man and His Art, by Ragna Stang (1977)

All art is autobiographical; the pearl is the oyster's autobiography.

– Federico Fellini (1920–1993), Italian film director, in Atlantic Monthly,December 1965

Which led to
Epiphany #4: While at this time in my life I have not felt these deep feelings that I felt I could not communicate in words (my blog has been a huge part of that growth and ability to express myself in words that I could not do in high school, for example), I look at the world my children are being raised in and I think about how hard and confusing it can be. Changing hormones in all stages of childhood/adolescence and lack of brain development (because they are not fully developed adults yet!) means that their ability to communicate how they feel is so limited when a disaster strikes their hometown, or when a parent gets terminally ill, or they have to move across the country or any number of things that happen to kids that they either don't understand or have difficulty grasping. That is where I believe art has the upmost importance in a young person's life. Art Education is vital in our schools to give students the necessary skills and basic artistic knowledge so that they are better able to communicate with the world around them and cope with the unexpected that will inevitably come into their lives. And thinking about that makes me excited to be able to assist in that process of self-discovery, and lights a fire in me to renew my teaching license and get back into the classroom.

The problem, and what I struggled the most with about Art in my teaching, also a part of my HUGE struggle with the art world in general lies in this:

 If one general statement can be made about the art of our times, it is that one by one the old criteria of what a work of art ought to be have been discarded in favor of a dynamic approach in which everything is possible

– Peter Selz (1919- ) German-born American art historian, Art in Our Times (1981)

I have always hated that saying, "Everything is Art".  I walked through an exhibit a few years ago that completely took me back--it was repulsive and completely pornographic. This coming from someone who finds some of her favorite works of art in the nude sculptures of Ancient Greece. Thankfully I had some fellow Art Ed friends with me to confirm that this exhibit was simply vulgar and was NOT, in fact, what we considered art (and the rest of the museum was actually quite lovely!).

And today I also realized
Epiphany #5: It does not (should not) matter what is considered art by the outside world. Just as we each have the opportunity to pick and choose clothes we wear, movies and TV shows we watch, books or magazines we read, apps we have on our phones, etc, we can choose for ourselves regardless of how much garbage there is out there. I mean, I wouldn't just stop going to art museums just because I once saw a work of art that offended me in it's belief that it was art. All that matters in what I consider art is that it suits me and fits my personal definition of art.

Maybe someday I'll actually put all these thoughts in some sort of more organized and concise fashion and make a Manifesto out of it, but for now these are my thoughts, subject to change and open to interpretation.  In short, I believe in a need of art for children as a method of communication and therapy.

One step closer to that "Discovering Ruth" outside of motherhood resolution that has felt untouched for nine months!

when a work of art (or an artist) leaves an indelible impression

I still remember, quite vividly, the first time I saw him speaking. It was some sort of "Intro to the Arts" class at BYU where accomplished artists of all walks of life came in and spoke about their lives and their careers as artists. It was only once a week and the only homework we ever had was to read an article they gave you about that artist before hearing him or her speak. This was the article I read on James C. Christensen.

This was the part that really struck home and intrigued me about this guy:

"I also think it’s essential that our spiritual side be developed along with our craftsmanship. Fifteen years ago I had a conversation with Elder Boyd K. Packer. He said, “As an artist what is your concern?” and I said, “My problem is that I watch the non-LDS artists paint 50 paintings a year and I paint 25 because I have made a commitment that I will seek first the kingdom of heaven. I will be active in the Church, and so I’ll be Young Men president and take my kids around to collect fast offerings and go to Mutual and go home teaching and all those things that eat up one’s time, while other artists can paint twice as much as I do. And because the more you paint the better you get, they just keep on outdistancing me.”

He said, “Why do you fail to recognize that with the help of the Spirit, which is what you’re spending all that time being active in the Church attempting to obtain, you can accomplish more in 10 paintings than another painter can in 30 or 40? It’s not the quantity of paintings, but the quality of the spirit within you that will move you to do good work.” And his words just went right to my heart."

After listening to him speak I was completely awestruck. I couldn't believe how beautiful his paintings were, how rich and full his home and work life were, and I wanted it. All of it. I wanted that passion, that drive, that genuine love of life. How did he manage to balance it all? I ended up writing a research paper in one of my classes on him, and then a few years later on one of his artist daughters (who happened to be the wife of one of my art professors).

10 years ago this month I applied (with a terrible portfolio of a hodgepodge of work from 7th grade up through high school and a few things from college) to BYU's Art Education program. In part because I knew I loved art, in part because I wasn't doing so well in my political science classes, in part because Drew supported me in doing so, and in part because of how I felt that day after listening to James C. Christensen speak.

Then as I approached my last semester of college and student teaching, I happened to get paired with Sari as my cooperating teacher (one of his brilliant daughters) who ended up being one of my absolute favorite people. She truly took me under her wing that semester and taught me so much about life and art and balancing work with life and being an artist and a teacher and a friend. Not to mention she was my #1 advocate for landing me my dream job (and probably the only reason why I got it when so many others, many much smarter and artsier than I!, applied).

The summer inbetween the two years I taught at the high school with Sari, she got asked to do some "research" for a little company called Cricut, and invited me along with some of her friends and sisters to create lots of fun things with this little paper cutter. We had these little project sessions (I was heavily pregnant with little d at the time and was so happy to have something to keep me busy those last few months!) in the Christensen home (Sari's parents), and as such I got the opportunity to meet them. They were some of the sweetest people I had ever met (not that I was at all surprised since everyone I have met from that family just emanates love), and walking into their house... was amazing. Art, from him and his kids, adorned every wall and it was just everywhere, displayed in the most eloquent way I don't think I could imitate if I tried. I couldn't believe how beautiful it all was, and how strongly I felt the sense of the spirit in their home. As I sat in the basement, surrounded with paper and glitter and fabric and paint and modpodge... I listened to the sisters chat as they created these lovely little works of art or craft, everyone had their own style. I was once again completely in awe because I didn't know what my style was. Style is something that takes time, effort, putting pen to paper every day for 10,000 hours and really getting to know what is inside of you. I wanted that so bad, but for the time being I was content with just surrounding myself with that genius, immersing myself in it, and hoping it would rub off on me. (It didn't, obviously!)

Back to the present. When I saw that Sari had posted about her dad passing, my mind immediately went to this painting. (source of all his images)

The Burden of the Responsible Man. It was the first of his paintings I had ever seen and I just couldn't help but admire the integration of fantasy with real life and the underlying meanings it held. The second image that came to my mind was this one:

From the artist: "The reason it isn't called The Burden of the Responsible Woman is that she's so busy she doesn't have time to be burdened! When I asked my wife, Carole, about her burdens, she gave me a funny look and said, 'I don't have time to be burdened.' When you've got so many things going, you might not have time to ponder."

"Specifically, what you have here is 'woman as a spiritual leader,'" says Christensen. "She has a candle, which is my way of showing that she is carrying the torch, leading the way. You notice that she has spare candles. Candles are symbols of light and wisdom. She also has a many-handed clock, which could mean several things, and then there is a compass, I put that in at the last minute, because today's woman really has to try to find her direction. The compass is there to help her figure out which way she's trying to go."

I could never get over how much his art touched me. I never ceased to be amazed at how creative and whimsical and fantasy-like his work was, while standing firm in the light (as opposed to the darker side of fantasy so many artists go into). "The Responsible Woman" has always been my favorite painting of his. I still remember how I felt when I saw this, before I had kids, and thought, man, motherhood is going to be hard but look how graceful she handles it! I had no idea! I look at this now, 4 kids later, and am just so overwhelmed with how much it resonates with me, and the absolute beauty in the midst of chaos. There are not too many works of art that I connect with so well it overwhelms me to tears, but this one is one of them.

I still can't believe most days that we will be moving back to Utah. I grew and learned so much there and maybe that's why I feel such a strong connection there. Because it is the first place I made my home while I was on my own. Because I grew from a teenager who thought she wanted to change the world by becoming an ambassador for some latin american country, to a woman and a wife and a mother and a teacher and a career-woman and an athlete.

I mourn the loss of a wonderful artist (who happened to be Mormon) and father of a dear friend and my heart aches for his sweet widow. But I know that death is not the end. And his work and his children and their children will live on and pass on his legacy. That is what I want for my kids and that is why I keep blogging even when it feels silly or like I don't have time to. To leave them with my legacy, which is not as beautiful or profound or talented as these works of fine art, but it is my testimony to them of what I know and love and believe to be true.

I just realized today that this has been my first real post about art since I moved to this blog back in 2012, and hopefully not my last. I feel like the last 4 years I have been so neck deep in motherhood that anything to do with art (beyond the playful watercolor/acrylic/fingerpainting with my kids) has been the first thing to fall to the wayside. There have been multiple things lately that have left me contemplating that maybe now is the time I try to pick up my brush, my fine tip pen or pencil again. 

Maybe finding Ruth will be rediscovering the artist I nurtured so well in high school and college?