EVERYONE HAS A STORY: LET THEM TELL IT. Circle by Sandy Coleman.
On Monday last I participated in a workshop* presented by Nasco Art Education featuring artist Sandy Coleman, creator of the The Community Circle Project. The Project and the class are all about connecting community in a way that allows for self expression. I’m sure you agree that these days we need both.
Sandy and I go back a number of years to when I was still living and hooking in Massachusetts. Members of a local artists’ group, we talked about collaborating on something. Later is better than never, yes?
By day, Sandy is the director of communications and the magazine editor at Wheaton College (Massachusetts). But she’s also an art teacher at the Attleboro Art Museum. Back in January, her Community Circle Project featured prominently in the Martin Luther King Jr. Memorial Committee of Greater Attleboro’s MLK Jr. holiday programming. At an interfaith service entitled “Breaking through Bias: Accepting Our Differences,” guests were invited to create circles that eventually (when our Covid-19 crisis allows) will become part of a large-scale public display illustrating community and unity.
Artist and Community Circle Project creator Sandy Coleman.
In Sandy’s own words:
I believe that art reminds us of our common humanity. Art invites us to tap into our innate creativity, to experience the process of bringing forth what is imagined into reality and to see what is good within ourselves so that we also can see what is good within others. This all, ideally, not only opens us up to hoping for the best for everyone and for the world, but also moves us to act to bring about good.
I believe that imagining what you want is the first step toward making it happen. All of this is at the heart of the founding of The Community Circle Project, which I created and launched in 2019.
The circle is a symbol of unity, wholeness, connection and inclusion. The Community Circle Project is an ongoing art collaboration and engagement that employs the symbol and the themes evoked as a creative focal point. I facilitate virtual and in-person workshops in which participants are invited to engage in artmaking as well as meaningful conversation. The goal is for us to see our commonalities, our shared humanity and desire for good in our lives, which, ideally, leads to wishing for good in the lives of others, our communities and the world.
Change happens in big and small ways. Each of us can play a role in that, including calling upon the power of creativity for relaxation, reflection and reaching out.
WE ARE POWERFUL TOGETHER. Another one of Sandy’s circles.
During the class, Sandy mentioned that she creates a circle each day, usually in the morning, based on a prompt which can be a statement or perhaps a question à la “what have you learned during the world lockdown? During the recent protests? What dreams do you hold for yourself? Your family? The world?” This journaling both relaxes and energizes her, grounding her for the day ahead.
Monday’s online workshop was primarily directed towards art educators for grades 4 and up. Hey, I teach rug hooking! Actually, I was there because, after Sandy invited my to join the Community Circle Project on Facebook, I saw a post that she was going to be presenting HOW the circles worked, how I could learn to draw them and participate in the project. Remember, Sandy came up with this Community Circle concept last year, well before the nation sat up and really took notice of our systemic racism, before some of us truly woke up and realized that our silence has been complicit. Although, as Sandy generously allowed, “Silence is complicated, not just complicit.” She herself has taken care and time to reflect on how she can add to the conversation. She is doing that through art.
KEEP THE DOOR OPEN. Another one of Sandy’s circles.
But this is art that’s meant to be shared. Art that can and should spark meaningful discussion. And we sure as hell have a discussion now. One we need to ensure keeps going thoughtfully. The Community Circle Project is a way to do just that. Through classrooms of kids, through community workshops, even through individual “circling.”
How many times do we have to be reminded that we have more in common than we don’t? That we are our brothers’ and sisters’ keepers?
Art gives us a way to reflect on and process the things going on in the world at large and in our own little part of it. How many people miss out on that because they say, “I’m not an artist!”? Everyone can trace a circle or even freehand it. (Another Sandy-ism: “Wonky is wonderful!”) I wish I’d been at the MLK Day service in Attleboro in January to see all the diverse circles that probably we’re actually pretty similar in spirit. Imagine the discussions that came up between parents and kids, between neighbors.
I CAN DO MORE TO BE UNIVERSAL. WHAT MATTERS MOST IS KINDNESS. Surprise! This is the circle I did during the workshop. Clearly, I don’t have the brevity thing down yet.
Let’s keep the conversation going!
Rug hookers and other artists, how about an old-fashioned challenge? Your circles don’t have to be hooked. We all know what it’s like to do letters. Feel free to draw them, if you prefer. Get your kids and grandkids involved.
I have no idea who the artist is. Maybe you know? But isn’t it beautiful? Okay, wine is beautiful too.
Rug love in the wine store?
I’ll explain. I’m having a busy week. Big surprise, I know. But I was trying to figure out something new and exciting (and quick) to write about when Tom and I headed out to the liquor store. A snowstorm was taking aim at Albuquerque, and we were running low. Before you scoff, I’m from New England and lived through the Blizzard of ’78; snow forecasts = a run to the grocery store. By the way, we got almost an inch and a half today. I know, wow.
So, we’re in Total Wine, and I remember how I’ve gotten rug ideas from wine labels. Some of them are so creative, even beautiful. Then I thought that maybe you need rug ideas right about now. Especially for those of you back east and in the midwest who will live through your own winter storm tonight and tomorrow. Enjoy!
Don’t the colorful flowers draw you in? The birds. What would it be like to share a bottle with this graceful lady? (I’m not particularly graceful.) But zoom over to the left, to the name of the wine. “Dirt Diva”! Love it! No problem drinking with this chick after all.I fear that this is more my speed, not so much the beautiful Dirt Diva. At least he looks happy. Or drunk.
This – or something similar – is one of the first wine bottle labels that jumped out at me to inspire a rug. And yet I don’t think we ever tried the wine. Bummer.
I bet I’m not the only one who’s hooked a rug with this element in it.Has no one realized that “The Fugitive” is just the Invisible Man? They are never gonna catch him. I mean…all of them. BTW, here’s how the manufacturer describes this wine: “Not just any wine – the wine that you drink when you know if may just be your last.” Alrighty.Here’s where they start getting scary. Or weird. Or both. Why name it “Juggernaut”? Okay, maybe it’s a huge and powerful force. But am I going to turn into a Robby Benson Beast, only more frightening, when I drink this stuff? I mean, look at the grass under his feet. It’s blood red. Imagine your new boyfriend ordering this stuff on a date…
Or 19 Crimes Hard Chard. Really? What’s the wine trying to say here? Maybe Jane’s husband tried to get her drunk on the Juggernaut and got more than he bargained for? For her crime she’s banished off to Botany Bay. At least she didn’t have to take him.
Two of my favorites. And I think it’s fair to say that I became distracted from my original intention. I am NOT hooking a rug of a framed French convict on Devil’s Island or a skeletal Pope. Who comes up with this stuff?
I DO know who came up this one and the next one. Albuquerque artist Sean Wells is a kick-ass Albuquerque artist whose artwork has been featured on La Catrina Vino, Cerveza de los Muertos, and New Mexico lottery tickets. She also happens to vend at many of the same events I vend at.
Another of Sean’s gorgeous and fun wine bottles.
Okay, I’ll end with a pic of the elusive jackalopegracing this bottle of whiskey. Now something like this could make it onto a rug. And don’t lecture me about the pesky copyright laws. I know all about them. Have a great week. Maybe I’ll pour myself a bottle glass of wine now…
The arts are not a way to make a living. They are a very human way of making life more bearable. Practicing an art, no matter how well or badly, is a way to make your soul grow, for heaven’s sake. Sing in the shower. Dance to the radio. Tell stories. Write a poem to a friend, even a lousy poem. Do it as well as you possible can. You will get an enormous reward. You will have created something.”
― Kurt Vonnegut Jr., A Man Without a Country
The murders in Las Vegas last week…
The lives, homes, and livelihoods lost to the fires in California… A guild-mate’s son and his wife evacuated from their home…
Puerto Rico and Mexico City and other areas that are still drowning without the basic necessities of life today…
Friends living day-to-day with health issues… And threatening insurance issues…
The anxieties of what seems to be a whole generation of children… Including mine..
Last week we were trying to wrap our minds around what would make one man angry enough to kill as many people as he possibly could. This week: still no answer. Meanwhile the political climate in the country drops farther into the toilet, and a President smugly tells reporters that he has a North Korean secret, Na-a-na-na-na! Americans are a nervous bunch these days.
Image from http://www.punediary.com/quotes/2016/10/art-life-heartbreak-vicent-van-gogh-quotes/.
Everyone’s worn out from disasters, the natural ones and the man-made. Weekends, I’ve taken to not bothering with the news other than what I read in the paper and see on my home page. I’ve got to take a breather from the barrage of awfulness coming in. I’d much prefer to head off to the mountains – and we’ve got plenty of those to choose from here in New Mexico – to hike and hide in a cabin for a few months days. Not happening. For one thing, my rheumatoid arthritis has been acting up, screwing with my lower back. Time to try a new medication. I’m lucky; I have a good health plan we can afford and a good rheumatologist. But she can’t help with the other problem. Tom and I lost our empty-nester status last week. The kid’s back…
Maybe you read the post on August 16, “Studio under construction.” Then again, maybe you didn’t. Long story short. Kid stormed/moved out in March. Tom and I left the room for months, assuming she’d be back before long. Finally, in August, we (meaning Tom; I told you my RA was getting uppity) patched the holes in the walls and painted. Because I’ve outgrown my kick-ass walk-in closet and laundry room as far as hooking materials storage goes, I ordered the big IKEA shelves with cubbies. I was getting me a studio!
There’s certainly nothing better than God’s art, nature. Is this not a most beautiful rose? It was the only one in the garden at Casa Rodeña in Albuquerque last Friday evening. A little miracle of color and design.
You know, somewhere just after that the hurricanes started. Why, why did I think that it would all go down the way we planned? Even before the shelves were delivered (a few days late, I might add), the stories of roommate and other issues started in earnest. Texts appeared on my phone after 10 p.m. Like a phone call in the early morning, those are never good. And…suddenly she and her minivan were back.
I’ll give her, she’s neater this time. So far. And there’s less yelling. So far. It appears that she learned that Mom and Dad don’t necessarily make the worst roommates. The devil you don’t know can be…the devil! So, no studio. Tom and I are off to Lowe’s tonight to check out shelving for the laundry room. That’ll help with my explosion of t-shirts, wool, ribbon, frames, and other hooking paraphernalia.
In the meantime, I hook. And not just because I have three more selling dates before the end of the year and an inventory is soon due into the Española Valley Fiber Arts Center. Nope. I hook because I can control whether or not I hook and what I hook. Color, design, materials: those are all up to me. I hook to distract myself from the things I cannot control: natural disasters; US politics and all they affect; gun violence; illness – my own or others’; my child’s anxieties and her struggle to become an adult. I hook to create something NOT BAD. More than that, I hook to ensure that there’s just a little more beauty in my world today than there was yesterday.
Art becomes diary-like, following and documenting the shifts in popular and not so popular culture, art encourages us to not just look at the past but to look forward to the future and to exist in a moment.
High in Hooking all set up and raring to go at the OFFCenter Folk Art Festival Sunday.
Today was a bad day. For the victims in Las Vegas, for their families, and for all of the United States. How to write a blog about rug hooking or art or anything that seems frivolous in comparison? I decided not to bother. Instead I decided that I should concentrate on “community.”
This dude led the Giant Puppet Parade. So cool!
Yesterday I was a vendor at the OFFCenter Folk Art Festival here in Albuquerque. Frankly, as far as selling goes, the day sucked. I didn’t even sell a mug rug set. The folks around me didn’t do too well either. In my case, I’d been afraid that my price point was too high for the event. Was I right? I’m not completely sure, but I suspect that had a lot to do with it. Was I disappointed even though I knew I might have a problem? Of course, but, you know, packing up, I told myself and Tom that it could’ve been worse.
Yesterday was a gorgeous day here. There was bright sun, and it was about 75 degrees tops. Sure, Albuquerque typically enjoys about 310 days of sun annually, but last week wasn’t at all typical. It rained for a number of days in a row. I needed waterproof shoes to set up in the grass, but I was able to change into canvas sneakers right after that. My point: it was much better to be out and about with others than to be sitting in the house listening to the Patriots lose.
The OFFCenter Folk Art Festivval is most definitely a family affair. Everyone and anyone can get in on the action.
They have a studio and shop across from Robinson Park where yesterday’s festival was held. It’s not just an event whereby selling artists pay a fee that raises monies to support the project. There are grants and donors and volunteers to do that. No, this festival is a CELEBRATION OF THE ARTS AND THE PEOPLE IN OUR COMMUNITY WHO LIKE TO MAKE ART. And I’m not only talking about the artists like me who were selling. It’s very family-friendly. There were tents and tables set up for kids and adults alike to make art. They didn’t have to buy it from me or the toy-maker or the illustrator or the painter. And while they drew and
One of the giant puppets in the parade.
crocheted and linked beads, there was music to dance to. There were giant puppets! See their pics!
The Project serves anyone and everyone in Albuquerque who chooses to go there.They, you, I, we all can make art for free. This is part of the Center’s vision statement:
My aunt was an art therapist so I know the value that creative pursuits offer to those with mental illnesses let alone to those of us who are “normal.” I’m not lying when I talk to people in my booth who say, “That obviously takes so much time and patience.” My response: “It’s my therapy.” In fact, that’s what many of my guild-mates say when we’re out demonstrating around town. We’re not lying. You know. There’s something calming about working with your hands; the repetitive movement is soothing. It doesn’t have to be hooking. All artists feel it. The Zen-like concentration keeps us in the moment, relieves us from ruminating constantly on all our problems. And we all have problems.
It’s about creating a community where we all feel safe enough to risk, to join in.How can you not love the vibrant art scene in Albuquerque? Especially with all the community involvement.
Today the entire country is living not just a problem, but a nightmare. Worse, we keep re-living the nightmare. I don’t know what the answer is, but somehow communities have to come together – if only for consolation. Yesterday I saw a community that was clearly providing all kinds of mutual support. It was beautiful. And it’s a start.
Young girl creating a yarn chain of some kind.
From the OFFCenter Arts Project:
Annually, we serve ~3,600 predominantly low-income artists of all ages, from child to elder. They’re often living with disabilities or other hardships, recovering through the arts, building community and hope inside and outside our studio walls.
…not only alters your art, but improves it! What to think? Me, I decided that it was great.
Before: A close-up of the “altered art.”
I sold a small wall-hanging at the Sunflower Festivaljust over a week ago. Technically, it was of a poinsettia, though it didn’t scream Christmas. (I tend not to hook overtly holiday-ish items; they take so long to hook, I wouldn’t want to put them away after a month.) Indeed, the customer didn’t even recognize it as a poinsettia at first; to her it was an attractive, artsy rug that went well with the colors in her living room. Then she told me what she was going to do with it.
“It’ll make a great pillow to set on my fireplace.”
Very cool, I thought. “Would you send me a photo when you finish it?”
“Of course!”
Nonetheless, I was concerned that when she finally made the pillow, she’d either forget or have lost my card with the email address.
I needn’t have worried. That was Saturday. I think it was Tuesday afternoon when I saw an email with an unfamiliar address pop into my box. The message:
Hi Laura,
I bought your poinsettia at the sunflower festival on Saturday. I turned it into a pillow, stitching a backing from a green fabric remnant I had and stuffing it with poly filling. Here it is in front of our kiva. You can see it has a good home. It is nestled on an afghan my grandmother crocheted about 50 years ago. Thanks for your artistry.
Ada
After: The Poinsettia’s become a Poinsettia pillow. Looks nice on the kiva, doesn’t it. Ada told me, too, that the afghan on the right was made by her grandmother 50 years ago. My rug’s in fine company.
Leonard Cohen once stated that “Artists’ intentions mean nothing.” And I agree. Especially if you’re selling your art. Sure, the poinsettia made a nifty wall-hanging or table-topper, but Ada saw it as a colorful pillow perfect for her living room. I’m happy that she was able to take a piece of my art and make it her own as well. And I’m grateful to her for sharing it with me.
