Art Show

My husband, my son and I went to the Art show opening at TAE on Sunday, there were lots of people there. The art was hung around the room and both _______ and _________ were dressed in suits. Here is a picture of Max and I very excited and on our way in.

Here is what is going on:
1. I talked to my work, they said they could donate food for the showcase on December 4th.
2. I am still working on converting the logo into an Illustrator file and presenting it to sign shops.
3. Lindsey discussed my duties and availability for the Showcase on December 4th.
4. There is an art opening at TAE on Sunday from 1-4 p.m, be there or be square.

I helped _______ we will call him Mr. W. with his baseball player. He said I could show my classmates our progress with a picture I took. I will post it as soon as I find the cord to my camera. All the other teachers were amazed that he had done such a great job without them drawing for him. I was proud because he felt so good about what he had accomplished. I don't think that anyone has ever really sat down with him and given the effort to show him, line for line, how to look at a picture and replicate it on another sheet. It's like using your eye as a tracer. Mr. W. was very amused when we drew the groin, because he thought the word groin was funny.

The poet came in today. He liked my poem. He said this is poetry, referring to my snowstorm poem. I said it was based on a dream I had, where I was an old man and my wife died. Then he left the table to talk to someone else. I need to work on asking open-ended questions. I think he is having writers block because when I asked him if he had written anything, he said he had not, and then when i suggested we collaborate he did not want to do that either. I said we missed him last week and he avoided saying what he did.

So it feels good to help someone gain some self esteem from producing art. At the same time, I would like to accomplish more.

drawing with graphs

Tonight, I volunteered my usual 6:30 p.m. til 9:00 p.m shift. It began as any other night, until I walked in and saw an oil painting of Malcolm X staring me right in the face. Another volunteer and a student are getting ready for their show at TAE on Sunday October 23rd, it should be a real cool show. I had a preview tonight. The opening reception is from 1 until 4--you guys should come on down for a real fun time in Pontiac, we could all go to Tiki Bobs after.... just kidding.
While the other volunteer and his student were working out the final painting for the show, it gave me the perfect opportunity to swoop in and help the other man who comes. He is an older man a bit slow. I'm not quite sure what his disability is. Last week, I was upset because the teacher drew his baseball player for him. So, when I came in he was trying to fix the drawing.
I asked him if he wanted some help and he said he had to ask ______ , the other volunteer. When the older man drawing the baseball player realized that _______ was busy he finally settled on me for some help. I grabbed some scrap paper and quickly laid out a grid around the border of the picture he was trying to draw. We grabbed a new piece of paper and I gridded that piece out. We were ready to start: square by square.
At this point, I began to work on my treasure box. I thought if he had any problems he would let me know....wrong. I soon looked over and I began to understand that this grid system might have been to advanced. He did not really understand spacial relativity. So I unplugged the hot glue gun scooched my chair right next to his and we took it one box at a time. I showed him how we could build the picture out of basic shapes and then, once the outline was done, we could go back in and get the details. We got about 8 squares done the whole night, but when he finally looked at the whole picture, he was really impressed with what he had drawn. The best part: it was actually his hand. I did not draw a single line on the paper for him. I discussed every single square: where he should start and end, what shapes he was drawing, and kept him focused but he did the drawing.
As for the poet he did not show up tonight, I hope everything is all right.

i decided on three poems here they are i'll let you know how it goes

Snail:

Snail you little fool

i told you already i had places to be


i said little snail


you are such a delicacy 



and then snap crack

 
i broke your perfect spiral jetty shell


and drank from it the goo


that used to be you


alive


and 


well, living?



But what is the life of a snail


carrying that weight on your back


and their is no McDonald's to go to 

(silly me trying to think that you think 
small you 
your just a snail. and i ate you right up)

Clay:

I woke up

Hands

Covered

Hands

Smothered

In earthenware

Wearing these

Hands out

Dehydrating each knuckle

Till flesh cracks

While fingers dance

Like willow whisps in wind

And in my family

Hands tell stories

Were books put words on pages

Hands flutter language across air

Using elbows as trapezes

Snowstorms in Brooklyn:

A long while passed

Before I stood

The snow fell in diagonal dotted lines

It blew in swirling flocks

And like the geese which had migrated

My legs began to bend

They gained momentum

Even with their brittle age

And the pain

Of roads traveled

When I still had you

My wife with paper-thin hands

And gentle lamb eyes

My love, laughing with her feet

And yet as I walk to the Cadillac

Only your imprint will be there

In bed, for me to come home too

As I fumble for my keys

You know how shaky my hands

Are dear

I think

Won’t it be nice when I

Reunite with you

And two new bodies

Can have the chance to grow lumps of old wrinkled skin

Skin that stretches and sags at the elbows

And still look over

In bed

At night

And see the soul in a body familiar

Who once had soft flesh

And I still reach over to touch

The space

I volunteered tonight from 6-30-9:00 at TAE. I discovered a few things. 

1. I promised "The Poet" I would bring some poems. The first thing he did was come over to me and inquire about them, while I was painting a treasure box. When I said I forgot them, he said "oh, I will let you get back to your painting." While I painted, I thought about the situation. I felt as if I had hurt his feelings. I thought perhaps he did not take me seriously. After a while I returned to him and struck up some conversation. We planned on writing a poem together and I will definitely not forget my poems next week. Here are some interesting questions this situation raised... What do you do if you disappoint a client? I am worried that my poetry might be to risky or offensive, what should I do? If I want to talk to this poet about his life, I am assuming it has walked some interesting roads, and if  he feels comfortable with sharing is it appropriate to ask hard questions?  What if he wants to know things about me that I am uncomfortable sharing? 

2. I am definitely more of an emphasis on therapy rather then art for therapy person. This is a hard realization since I have a fine art background and I love making art. I am not sure if this is because of the way that TAE is approaching their art for therapy or if it is because I am drawn more to the therapy part. Example 1 of 2: 

I had helped a young autistic fellow draw a moose last week and the other volunteer decided to paint over all of our portion. This makes sense, because I am not a trained painter and this volunteer is having an art show with the young fellow to show a progression representing his teaching and it's influence.  

Example 2 of 2:

The teacher for the day was drawing a clients drawing for him. I am not sure if he had the mental capacity to say how he was feeling about the situation. The only reason I thought it might have bothered him was he kept bringing it up as a "joke". 

I understand that art feels good to make and that the act of making art can be therapeutic. I am just more interested in helping people understand things about themselves through examining and discussing the images they create. At TAE, it seemed that the focus was more on creating a pretty picture than about the artist expressing themselves, or understanding the self from the art. 

I would like to come up with a project to do with some of the students, but from being in the open studio it is hard to gage what has been done and was successful in the past. 

Here are some images of the treasure box I created and then my final assignment of the evening was to undertake organizing magazine clippings. This was funny because it reminded me of the number 5 photo collage...hehe. However instead of 3 boxes of people, words, and animals there are folders and folders and folders in 3 drawers with labels like jewelry, household, cars, nascar, water....and I am so excited to make this mess make some sense. 

BEFORE

AFTER

INSIDE

Signs signs everywhere a sign

Today, I had my first day of volunteer work with The Art Experience. I had previously met with Lindsey to discuss what days would work for me, I received a tour but did not get to meet any of the artists. It was a bit of a rainy day today. My husband and my son where dressed in matching leather jackets as we pulled the Honda Civic out of the driveway. When we arrived, the first thing I did was hop out of the car and have my picture taken in front of the sign on their building. I felt as if it was my first day of school: only, instead of my mom taking the picture, it was my husband and instead of standing in front of the pine tree at my childhood house, I was standing in front of a brick building which stood strangely alone in Pontiac. My first task of the day was to use oil pastels to create a wicking layer for the outline and veins of fall leaves, then I painted water color on top of this. These leaves where to replace the flowers and bees inside of a glass case outside the door of The Art Experience. An older gentlemen, who loved drawing old Tigers players, was the inspiration for the decorations I was commissioned to create.  Just as I was changing summer to fall, I could feel the change within the building itself. On March 15th 2011, Katie Serewicz, a founding member of The Art Experience, had passed away. Her artwork danced around the space, alive and vibrant, while the mood in the room was more somber.


After I had finished this first project, I talked to the second artist who came in. He was the resident poet. Although, the first poem he let me read was a collaboration about angels, his second poem was hand-written on printer paper and was about love. There was a very beautiful line discussing drinking coffee out of your favorite mug; I adore that idea. I had decided to wear a long-sleeved shirt with the word love embroidered across it.


The next assignment I was given was a "treasure box," which is to be decorated and auctioned off. The box I chose was a small, metal, army green, lockable box. I plan to crochet some flowers to juxtapose the masculine feminine, perhaps I will use some buttons.


This is when I was asked to assist a young man with mild autism who was painting a moose. The time soon came to an end, but not before we had managed to paint the ripples in the water from where the moose stood and drank.


As I was leaving, a conversation with Marie sparked up about The Art Experience's signs. I suggested that I could turn their font into an illistrator file, and then we could rearrange it differently on a photo of the store front. Once a design is selected, I will find out if any sign companies are willing to donate supplies. I am very excited about starting this project. I had a beautiful time creating with a diverse group of people in the little town of Pontiac. I can say now that I am art experienced.