This Moment in Time

A year and a half ago Covid cancelled my in-person work with the Ohio State School for the Blind, and it’s so good to be back again, sitting on my tiny chair at the round table in the art classroom. Through a TeachArts Ohio grant from the Ohio Arts Council in 2020, we were researching the history of the school, presenting and responding to our findings in creative ways. Before the pandemic shut down classrooms, we discovered a lot in the basement, in old school records, and on rarely seen walls— including a framed letter from Helen Keller herself!

While it was disappointing not to have our plans for exhibitions and an open house come to fruition, the pandemic honed our focus on one important thing: documenting the present moment in OSSB’s history. We reached out to staff, faculty, alumni and parents, asking them to share school memories, stories, or even anecdotes about themselves. Students shared OSSB experiences via quilt squares, wrote essays, and created artwork in response to the pandemic. They made self-portrait photographs to share parts of who they are. The result was a self-published book titled This Moment in Time. (have a look and/or purchase here!). A braille and audio version are also in the works.

The most rewarding part of the experience for me was my conversations with students about their artwork and writing, whether in the pre-Covid classroom or via Zoom while we were all at home. Sometimes funny, sometimes solemn—always poignant—our exchanges rarely stayed on the surface but dove into the heart of what were sometimes difficult, emotional topics.

It's an honor to be back via another TeachArts Ohio grant (thank you, OAC!) to resume work on the original concept for this project, creating a timeline of important events in the school's history. We’ll be making a series of display banners using image transfers and collage. Updates to come!

Writing Again

This blog, for the moment anyway, is an assignment. Janet, my writing mentor, suggested coming back to it as a low-pressure way to return to the page. I needed a break from the longer personal essays I've been working on— they are heavier work and leave me feeling bogged down sometimes— buuut I wound up not writing anything at all during that break. *Sigh*

Deadlines are usually good at motivating me. I am more likely to finish a project if there's some outside accountability, so I made it may summer goal to finish a new essay and polish up older ones to submit as a collection for an award with a September 1 due date, not so much for the idea of "winning" but for the satisfaction of having finished. I started out pretty excited about this but as June and July came and went I just wasn't getting anywhere. I'd sit down to write and just feel pressure, which completely destroyed any creative inspiration I had. I finally made the decision to let it go. I knew it was what I needed to do but I still felt lousy about it.

I emailed Janet, embarrassed to say I was "quitting." I thought she’d think I was a complete flake, stopping and starting and stopping again (It wasn’t the first time I'd done this.) “But that’s exactly how books get written!” she said when we had a phone call. Yes, there are writers who thrive with a disciplined and more regimented approach to their work, but the rest of us write in fits and starts. The going away and coming back is just part of the process. My yoga teacher says that meditation is an act of constantly starting over. I like that analogy. I never quit this, I just keep starting again.

Exhibition Weekend

I still can’t really believe that finally, after ten years since my original flying adventure with Ryan, the creative project that sprung from it, that begun as a thank-you gift for my friend and evolved into something bigger than a single book, is now hanging on the walls of a museum. (!)

The show opening was wonderful. Friends came from all over, Traci and my brother flew up from Florida, my incredibly supportive neighbors made the drive, even my accountant made an appearance. “So THIS is what you do!” he said.

I even signed my first flyer autograph! (What ?! — So weirdly wonderful!) Yes it was for someone I know, but it’s going in a frame and being hung next to a Patty Wagstaff poster! What an honor — thank you Dan!

A festive dinner followed the opening reception and then the next day was spent, fittingly, at the airport, where John gave airplane rides until dusk. A perfect ending to a perfect weekend.

I have to say, I am pretty proud of myself for not giving up on this project after so many years, and for being willing to let it become what it wanted to be in its own time. And, of course, I am thankful and grateful:

To Ryan for the magic, to Swan and the encouragement of our photo group friends, to Jace Graf for the amazing bookbinding weekend, to the Ohio Arts Council and the Greater Columbus Arts Council for awards and grant funding, to the Springfield Museum of Art for saying yes, to Vicki & Tom for the studio space, to my family and special friends, and to my husband John, for not only teaching me how to fly but for becoming my lifelong adventure friend.