This holiday season has been “beautifully busy,” a nice way to end a year that started in heartbreak. Mom used to say, “Better is always coming. The trick is to hang on until it gets here.” She was right. Nothing is permanent. The secret, I think, is to convince yourself to remain open.
A very good friend, who we lost earlier this year, started each day open to whatever good there was available. That point of view informs Sotapanna: Up From The Ashes, on exhibit in the gallery at WAL Public Market, 1104 R Street in Sacramento. The show runs from Dec. 1, 2017 until Jan. 3, 2018. The theme of it is regrowth after trauma.
It also ties into the “Me, Too” movement of women who have been sexually assaulted telling their stories. Abuse was a part of my life for many years. Forgiving my abusers and rebuilding my life was, and is, a growth process. Even after horribly traumatic events, it’s possible to grow and go forward. Not easy — possible.
I also have jewelry being offered for sale by Blue Line Gallery in Roseville, CA (405 Vernon Street, Roseville, CA). They have jewelry from local artists on display in the small gallery, and available for sale. If you buy a set of Love Bead Safe Harbor Pins, a portion of the sale goes to charity. The pins have never been for sale before, but Women’s Wellspring, a center for women in crisis, recently sold them to raise money for their charity (with our blessing — women who come to the center learned to make them in a free workshop we just gave, and made pins to sell to raise money for their art therapy program), and they’re for sale at Blue Line, raising money both for the nonprofit art gallery and for other charities. We may offer them online as well, with part of the money going to charity.
Lots going on here, most of it good, so we’re tired, but happy. Hope this finds you happy, even happy-tired, storing up the energy of good moments to sustain you.
This project is about human interaction and conscious choices.
You’ve found a project you’re passionate about. You think you’d be good at it. You’re excited! You tell your friends and family and… pfffft, the air goes out of the balloon. Nobody’s interested. What now?
This has happened to me more than once over the years, so I feel you. The natural feeling, when you’re excited about something, is that the people around you will see how great it is and get excited about it, too. Or at least be excited for you. You’re hoping for encouragement, for someone else to be excited for you, happy that you’re happy. If you run headfirst into a wall of indifference, it can bring your momentum to a halt. There you stand, looking around, baffled and hurt — why doesn’t anybody seem to give a fig? Don’t they care about you?
I used to let that stop me. If the people around me weren’t interested, then ( so I thought) either (1) whatever I was excited about wasn’t important, or not “worthy,” or (2) I wasn’t important or worthy. That is not true, and here’s why.
People who like you like you. They may or may not like your work, or be interested in the same things you are. They may enjoy your company and think you’re great and still not get your work. I have a couple of really good friends who, so far as I can tell, don’t get what I do. Everything isn’t for everyone, just as every person isn’t for everyone. I don’t much care for cauliflower, or the paintings of Jackson Pollock. This doesn’t mean that cauliflower is bad, or that Jackson Pollock’s paintings aren’t “worthy.” It means that neither does much for me.
Yet I might have liked Jackson Pollock, and I can like someone who is passionate about the paintings of Jackson Pollock (a passion for cauliflower might be harder to take. I really don’t like the smell). The people who like you have found something they enjoy, or admire, or both, in you. But they might look at your painting, or whatever your project is, and be mystified, or disinterested. It doesn’t move them — you do.
The flip side of this is that you shouldn’t let their reactions determine how you view your project. Get it out there and let your work find its tribe. Chances are there will be someone who will look at it and know just what you were trying to do, and be excited about it. Just as you have your tribe, so will your work.
Case in point… I put together an art show for a local radio station. Eight artists were involved (including me). It was, by design, a range of styles, disciplines and media. Everything from painting and sculpting to jewelry and clothing. The reception was a crush, a great crowd, many of them very enthusiastic. But there was one man, nicely-dressed, who looked over the gallery and asked, “Why jewelry? Why clothes? I understand why you’d include sculpture and painting, but,” and here he actually sniffed in disdain, “why would you include crafts?” And he said “crafts” with great condescension.
The inclusion of jewelry and clothing was deliberate, I explained. Personal ornamentation is one of the oldest forms of art, possibly the oldest. Most major museums have collections of jewelry and clothing. He wasn’t convinced, but said that it did offer “the uneducated” something they could “understand,” which was “probably clever” on my part. (*sigh*). So he clearly didn’t get it. That didn’t make my choices wrong. Most of the people at the show didn’t even question the “why” of that, and enjoyed the show.
My latest project, the Love Bead Safe Harbor Pin Project?Most people who know me could not possibly care less about it. They like me, but they aren’t interested in my work or this project. But over 500 people so far are. They get it. They understand that those little pins are a symbol of an important idea. They think the pins are fun. They get that the pins start conversations. They like the idea of deciding, consciously, to try to treat other people, even people they might not understand or approve of, with respect. They are my project’s “tribe.”
The “Access To Health Care” Pin
The acceptance rate for the pins is about 91%. Nine out of ten people offered pins accepted them. Their reactions range from mildly pleased to very enthusiastic. I get to have interesting, challenging, enjoyable conversations with so many people about respect, who we give it to and why, what it means… all because of a pair of little, beaded safety pins in a packet. Another artist said she thought this was “the most important work of social art” she had heard of in years, and I’m still dumbfounded by that. People hug me. They tell me their stories. Parents talk to their kids about respect. It has been amazing — and had I not put it out there, I’d have missed it.
Yes, you might put your work out there and it might prove hard to find its tribe. But for sure you won’t find that tribe if you don’t try. People can’t want what they can’t conceive of, and they can’t conceive of your project before you put it out there. If the people in your life don’t get it, accept that and keep moving.
The people who like you, but don’t get your work? Appreciate the role they play in your life, even if it’s just to enjoy your company. You need them. It’s great to have people like your work… but it’s just as great to have people like you as a person. On days when the work just won’t cooperate, you’ll be glad to have someone who, independent of your work, looks forward to talking to you, to seeing you.
And when you do find people who get your work, listen to them! Let the opinions of people who have experienced what you’re trying to do weigh more than those who haven’t. When I would get discouraged, my husband Mark kept saying, “Listen to the people who have experienced what you’re doing and told you that it meant something to them. They know what you’re doing.” They are my project’s tribe, and I wouldn’t have found them if I hadn’t taken a chance that they might be out there.
I’m 137 pins distributed into this project as of today. This means about 140 interactions with people so far, and as you might expect, those interactions vary widely. This project is about human interaction — how we choose to treat other people. I was telling my friend Janice about some of them, and she said, “You’re writing these down, aren’t you? It’s part of the project! You should be telling the stories that go with this.” So begins “Pin Tales.” These are the stories associated with this project, both the good and the bad. When you feel like a bit of light reading, join us on Tuesdays for the latest Pin Tale. First up:
The Boy With The Hat
Mark and I went to a theme park (we love theme parks). As we were leaving, we found staff lined up to wish everyone a good night (and probably to answer last-minute questions). I was passing by a young man (every year, more of the population is younger than I am. He was probably in his 20s). As I passed, we smiled, but then he looked at the Love Bead Safe Harbor Pin (let’s say “Love Beads”) I was wearing. He approached me, speaking softly.
“Do you know what it means to wear the safety pin?,” he asked. I said that yes, I did, it was a Safe Harbor Pin and that I’d made it. I always carry a few with me, so I offered him a set. As he took it, he said, “You made this?”
“Yes,” I answered, “I make them and give them to people.”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. He just stared at the set of pins, lying in his palm on their little card. “People are getting harassed,” he said quietly. “I know people who’ve been bullied, and…” He looked up and made eye contact. “Is it all right if I hug you?”
As people who know me can tell you, I’m not big on physical contact with anyone I’m not close to, but I couldn’t say “no.” I nodded, and he hugged me quickly. “I can’t wear this while I’m working,” he told me, “but I will wear it. Thank you.” We said our goodbyes, and Mark and I headed for the Administration Office at the park (we had a quick errand there).
As we came out of the Admin Office, I heard my name. Looking around, I saw the young man jogging toward us, with something in his hand. “This is the hat I wear when I’m not at work,” he said, showing me a hat with his new Love Beads front-and-center. “I’m going to tell my friends,” he said, “that this came from someone I didn’t even know, who makes these and gives them away. I’ll tell them that we aren’t alone, that there are people we don’t even know who want us to be safe.”
“There are people hoping good things for you who don’t even know you,” I said.
“Can I hug you one more time?,” he asked. We hugged, said goodbye, and Mark and I left.
I’m a big ol’ introvert, so just talking to strangers is a stretch for me, but a very wise friend once said, “If it’s important to you, don’t wait until you feel like it, or feel up to it. Do it scared.”
When I started this project, I wasn’t even sure of the purpose of it myself. It was instinctive, divine inspiration, a need to react to the increasing negativity and hostility I was seeing and hearing. Soon, I realized that it’s about the potential in every human interaction. Every time we meet, or talk, we make a choice about who we are and how to treat other people. Friends can tell you there are no signs of incipient diety about me. No aura of sainthood. I fall short of my expectations on a daily basis, if not hourly (some days are like that). So this project reminds me of the potential in every moment.
With each interaction, I make a choice of how to approach or speak with someone, and he or she makes a choice about how to treat me. All the choices we make become who we are, in our own eyes, and in the eyes of others. We are largely who we decide to be.
In that moment, I decided to come out of my comfort zone, and so did The Boy With The Hat. We decided how to treat each other, and how to respond to how we were treated. In that moment, we both decided to cooperate to build something small and beautiful.
