Showing posts with label H'Art. Show all posts
Showing posts with label H'Art. Show all posts

Monday, October 1, 2012

Imagine Hope Inside My Dream

That phrase has echoed around in my head and heart for a long while and it is still not finished changing me. That’s the kind of transformation that happens at H’Art studios—for both the artists and those lucky enough to own or view  some of the paintings—a jolt of recognition and joy, and a slower more gradual process of awakening to a slightly new way of seeing or being in the world. A way that is firmly rooted in life—with its joys and sorrows—and hope.

Many of these painting make me laugh out loud in joy and delight—Mark’s Rake Tree, Julie’s Rainbow Butterflies Dancing, Anna’s Fancy Dress Cupcake Ball; others draw out a certain sadness or even grief—such as Joe’s This Is the Way Friends Used to Be. All are fairly vibrating with life, as was the Green Door restaurant this evening, where H’Art’s most recent show opened. 

The artists greeted friends, supporters, collectors, and strangers, welcoming each one into the circle of creativity and community created by their bright colours and bold imaginings. A creative community built for artists with developmental disabilities, honouring their way of seeing and being in the world, and giving them a space to share their vision, and themselves, with the wider artistic and urban community of which they are an integral part.

Jessie is lucky to have snagged a spot at H’Art this year. While her primary medium is dance, she has participated in H’Art during the summer or on school breaks (it is tailored to adult artists) almost since its inception in 2002 (with original funding funneled through the local Down syndrome association). When a regular spot came up this fall (Fridays), Jessie was excited and determined to make it fit in her schedule. I have to admit, this surprised me. I’ve never really pegged Jessie as a visual artist (I know, I know, so many individuals with Down syndrome are visual learners and communicators, but, as with many other so-called typical traits, this one didn’t seem to be attached to Jessie’s extra 23rd, —in fact, she was assessed as an auditory learner early on. Although that doesn’t quite explain why she doesn’t listen to me. Or, maybe it does!) As a child she loved to paint and glue (or, let’s be honest, loved to squeeze out the paint and the glue, I think it was more of a sensory thing), but even with paint and other materials within easy reach, as she matured she rarely chose crafts or painting or even pencil and line drawing as an activity. It was (and is.) mostly dance and writing.  

But I think that being in an artistic/creative environment, where self-expression is honoured, encouraged, and celebrated [see this post about disability and art], offers Jessie a kind of freedom to be that is rarely found in other spaces. For many of the other artists, who, like Jessie may have been bound by preconceptions and imposed limits, the studio has become a very special, safe, and exciting place to explore and share their perceptions of the world around them. For some, the studio is a safe harbour, for others it is their calling.   
 
So now Jessie goes to the studio every Friday, spending the morning exploring themes, journaling, being supported in the creative process, and the afternoon prepping her canvas and painting, working with other artists, some of whom have exceptional talent and are willing to mentor those just beginning. And tonight was the opening of this year’s fall show, and once again the art invited me to slow down, look, and be infused with a kind of joy and respect and wonder that is at the heart of all true art. It will feed my soul for months to come.

What art programs are out there in your community? How are artists with disabilities included in the creative community where you live?

The H’Art show, Moon Is Laughing Gas, is at the Green Door Restaurant in Ottawa, October 1–27, 2012.  

Thursday, March 10, 2011

Jessie Flips: About Her Creative Side

Jessie's latest Flip, about how important the arts are to her.

Links for the organizations she is talking about: Propeller, Ottawa School of Speech and Drama, and H'Art of Ottawa.

Friday, July 9, 2010

The Road to Independence Is Paved with . . . Boulders

We are surviving the heat wave, barely. But it is certainly testing our plan and our patience. While the picture here was taken many years ago, she cycles in and out of that “you can’t make me” phase. It’s an appropriate image for many of our mornings so far this summer.


Today, Jessie went off to H’Art studios for the day. She will have 3 days there next week, journaling and painting, which she is really looking forward to.

We left the house at 8:50 to get there shortly after 9, when it opens (note, I’m trying to get her there as soon after it opens as possible—say no more, say no more). I’m driving her because the bus routes are not simple and it would be just one more thing to argue about (But I don’t WANT to take the bus, I want YOU to drive me). We get out of the car and walk toward the Bronson Centre, where the studio is located. As soon as we walk in the door I ask her if she remembers what floor it’s on (I really don’t remember!).
WHY are you asking ME where it is?” she complains.
“I was just wondering if you remembered, because I don’t.”
We stand there. (Stand off more like it.) I am waiting for her to figure out that she has to look at the directory in the front hall. She is waiting for ME to tell her where to go (I will not succumb to that easy one-liner).

We wait. I give in and walk over to the directory and mimic scanning it with my finger. I am trying so hard to lead her without pushing her, to teach her without forcing her, to support her without, well, without strangling her! As my finger reaches H’Art 3rd Floor, she nods and heads off but then stops, looking around to figure out which hallway to go down.

I stand behind her, willing her NOT to ask me where to go.

“Which way do I go?”

I am silent. Gently silent I think. I am breathing in and out, saying my mantra, hoping that in the silence she will find an answer!

She looks around and sees the sign on the stairwell that says 3rd floor.

Ta-da! She opens the door and I say a silent prayer thanking God/ess for all his/her beneficence.

She holds the door open for me (brownie points), and then says “You go first.”

“Nope,” I say. “You lead. This is your activity. You need to know where to go when I drop you off tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to know where to go.” (Figure that one out!)

”Jess, it’s just like you’re going on your own.”

She knows where I am leading with this one.

“But I don’t WANT to work on my independence skills!”

I sigh. Consider my options. It’s too early in the morning for me to lose it, really. So I laugh. Outloud. That’s the mistake.

WHY are you LAUGHING?”

“It’s the better and least dangerous choice,” I answer, oh so proud of myself for choosing laughter over lamentation.

And so the day begins.