In Memoriam: A View for Laurie

Ninth grade rivaled as one of the darkest times of my adolescence. Perhaps as a consolation, that year the universe gifted me with two of the most influential teachers I ever had. Each shone brightly, cutting through the darkness and pain, leaving an indelible mark, which I would not fully realize, or appreciate, until adulthood. I wrote about one of those teachers in a previous post; the other person was my art teacher, Laurie Teague, whose artistic aesthetic and musical taste set my struggling spirit free.   

At the ripe age of 15 while perpetually feeling like I was from another era, I was steeped in the music of the late 1960s and early '70s. I recall discussing the music of Jefferson Airplane and Janis Joplin on many occasions with Laurie in the moments before class began. When I had difficulty with a composition for a class assignment, she often came over to offer guidance or words of encouragement. She was a gem. Unfortunately, the end of that school year in 1992 was the end of our time. Due to changes in the school district the following year, she would not teach at that high school again before I graduated. To think where I might have gone artistically had she been guiding me for the next three years...

 

Following the death of my other teacher from that year, I found Laurie on facebook in 2015, and we picked up where we left off. She would regularly react to my new artwork as it was posted online, which echoed the encouragement she used to give me all those years ago.

 

Contemporaneously, I asked her about the colors and natural elements that resonated with her most, to which she dutifully replied. She ended her message with, "What are you up to, anyway?" With the kind permission of Canadian artist Barbara McMahon to use her photograph, "Remote", and the answers provided by Laurie, I got to work creating a collage to convey my gratitude for Laurie. By November of 2016, I completed:

 

"A View for Laurie"

This collage was a labor of love. I used India ink to create the free-form lines on the window panes and then an Xacto knife to cut away different sections of the photograph, into which I inserted images from magazines and original artwork and photographs of my own to create a composition filled with things I knew Laurie loved. Having the opportunity to create and send it to her was... something I can't quite put into words. Her appreciation of it meant everything to me.

 

Laurie and I would go on to exchange many messages and holiday cards over the years. In the spring of 2020 she posted a photo of some of her recent artwork, and I messaged her to tell her that I was buying one of them. After creating a piece for her and then getting to purchase one of hers, all that remained was to make a trip down south to see her again. I could not get down there fast enough, as she passed away in November 2021. Upon learning of her death, I posted the following on facebook to her daughters, "you don't need me to tell you how wonderful of a person your mother was, as you know that more than anyone. My heart dropped when I learned of her passing just this evening. She was my art teacher at Carver School in 1991-92, and the impact she had on me was profound. It would take me years to realize that. Fortunately, I reconnected with her through facebook in 2015 and was able to convey my gratitude for the intangible gifts she gave me. I am grateful for the 5 or so years of holiday cards we were able to exchange, and for the opportunity to purchase one of her original paintings a few years ago. It hangs in my home office. I will treasure it, and her spirit, always. I only wish I was able to travel to see her once again. Words can't convey how sorry I am for your loss. May she reverberate through both of you in all that you do." 

 

She continues to reverberate in the artwork I create. Thank you, dear Laurie.   

Featured in this post: A View for Laurie
All current artwork can be found in my profile at Fine Art America. Thank you for your time and your support.

Stories of Healing: From Violence to the 1st Art Show

Six months ago, I was asked to submit my work for an art show. Having never had one before, I had no idea what to expect. When the show debuted earlier this month, I never dreamt it would be the success that it was. As I walked home that night, under the almost-full moon, another epiphany moved through my spirit, as they often do in the presence of the moon. The origins of this art show became clear to me, and once again, I was lead back to an act of violence.

Over five years ago, I was the recipient of workplace violence. ('Recipient' may sound odd, but I don't view myself as being a victim.) I addressed this experience in this post, talking about how it was a gift in that it lead me down a different path, pushing me straight into my career as an artist. What I did not mention in that post is that after creating the piece mentioned in that post, "Leaving the Darkness Behind", I sought out a professional to scan it for me. Enter Buffalo Big Print, who scanned that piece and who has scanned all of my artwork since 2014. They are the ones who approached me last year about holding an art show in their gallery, and because of those wonderful people, this was possible:

As the pieces for this show were selected and the threads of the show were coming together, the show's title revealed itself to me. After all, these pieces were all "Stories of Healing". 

Back in 2014, in the days and weeks following the violent incident, I thought the universe had already bestowed its gifts upon me, that the doors of opportunity that were going to open had already opened. Yet, as I walked home on the night of the 7th of February 2020, I realized that the biggest gift to come out of this was given to me that night: my first art show. The second-biggest gift to come out of this was given to me that night, too: the kind hearts of friends and strangers coming out to make it a successful show. There was so much laughter and love in the space that night. That wonderful experience was worth the moments of violence 5 years ago. I hold deep gratitude for the violence. Its sharpness and abruptness were necessary to alter my trajectory. The doors continue to open, all these years later.


All current artwork can be found in my profile at Fine Art America. Thank you for your time and your support.