TAOS 9/21/18 - WORD PAINTINGS #28 - SANCTUARY

TAOS 9/21/18 - This has been an upsetting week for any woman who has experienced any kind of abuse - friend, partner, stranger.  Chuck Grassley and Orrin Hatch have risen again like ghosts from the Grave of History Past!  It honestly makes me ill to see them on TV and my mute button is getting a real workout!. I remember the Anita Hill hearings - their attempted destruction of a good strong woman who had the courage to step forward to oppose the nomination to the Supreme Court of that sleeping giant Clarence Thomas.  Here they are again - spectres of the good old days when men were men and women knew their place!!  Am hoping in their next lives they return as  women who need men to treat them fairly - just to be honest and upstanding arbiters for the rights and dignity of women! Politics be Damned!  I am angry!

Sitting on my little red sofa here in Taos this morning, I have decided to share some of my experiences of domestic abuse.  Was ready to tuck it away and just talk about my art life.  Truth is the abuse was the impetus for me to create a safe and sane life without the daily drama.  It has taken most of my lifetime to learn how to live peacefully.  The painting above is titled "Sanctuary of Padre Martinez".   Taos has been my haven for at least 35 years - my own personal sanctuary - amazing Grace!

Fair warning - some of next week's posts might not be easy to read.  My intention is to avoid blame - a lot of what happened between me and the men in my life was normal behavior back in the day - it was cultural.  I just happened to be caught in the riptide of change from a male dominant society to the women's movement - it was crazy making!  All I know is that I navigated through this time as best I could.

"If people wanted you to write warmly about them, they should have behaved better. ..." - Anne Lamott

WORD PAINTINGS #27 - CULTURE SHOCK

JAN HERRING WORKSHOP, CLOUDCROFT, N.M. - 1968

As mentioned in a previous post,  I celebrated my 79th birthday three weeks ago; life was very different for women back in the day!  Culture shock for me really wasn't because of the move from my mid-western roots to mostly Hispanic and Native American city of Santa Fe.  The difference in the status of women between the two places made me question my entire belief system - the rather closed and restrictive society of  women in the Polish-American community as opposed to the wide open possibilities of a small but burgeoning city full of talented and creative people in the Southwest. 

Growing up Catholic in Milwaukee and Chicago, the role of women was predestined.  It was shaped by religion and ethnicity.    To quote my father again, "No daughter of mine will be an artist!" - his word was Law!   Men ruled the roost.  Women obeyed. That is the way it was back then.  Higher education was frowned upon for girls.  Marriage was the only acceptable option.  If a husband was abusive or unfaithful, the parish priest was ready and willing to talk to the wife and convince her of the marriage vows.  Separation or divorce was not an option. Taking care of one's family, husband, children and elderly parents was predestined.  Only the most determined and courageous girls escaped.  

I often refer to my transition from Chicago to Santa Fe my "Dorothy and Toto" moment - the gut punch of infidelity on the part of my husband was the tornado that picked me up,....babies, diapers and everything I believed to be true and landed me where I belonged in the first place.  It is no accident that in my first posts I honor three amazing women - Jane Petschesky, Jan Herring and Margaret Jamison.  Jane happily worked alongside her husband at the department store and their horse ranch.  Jan left her family farm in Clint, Texas to study with a famous Polish artist.  Painting and teaching her way of caring for her family at the same time able to express herself creatively.  Margaret picked herself up from a devastating loss to become one of the most respected art dealers in the country!  These women showed me the path to change.   wherever they are now, I hope they know that they made a real difference in my life.  

Truth is I never lost those women from Chicago/Milwaukee.  From them I learned how to navigate the world in spite of the cultural and religious limitations.  Am grateful for their good hearts and kind ways.  I was caught between two ways of being - a life without many choices, or this wide open wild West where I could eventually become real - I could draw and paint and raise my babies without a discouraging word!  Wow!!!   

WORD PAINTINGS #26 - THE JAMISON GALLERY

What a Gal! Margaret married well known art collector C. Bland Jamison in the Taos home of Leon Gaspard. Gaspard's wedding gift to the bride and groom was a wonderful Russian snow scene with
a large group of men and women in colorful peasant dress crossing a bridge.  (This was one of my favorite paintings on display in her Santa Fe home. )  As I remember her telling of the story is that C. Bland wanted to sell some of his large collection of Western paintings and sculptures, including some Remington and Russell bronzes.  Their plan was to run the gallery together.  His wedding present to her was an ancient carved Irish emerald ring...a love story.

In1964 they rented a store front directly opposite the La Fonda Hotel, installed flood lights to enhance the artwork.  The gallery also had a downstairs display room.  One week before the opening C. Bland fell down the stairs in the gallery and died.  Almost immediately Margaret was informed of the huge amount of debt Mr. Jamison had incurred.  Without blinking, she decided number one to pay off the debt in the hundreds of thousands of dollars, and number two to open the gallery as scheduled.  Truth is she loved fine art, but had no idea of how to run a gallery.  She decided to learn.  She was the first fine art gallery in Santa Fe - and for ten years she exhibited many well-established artists, all the while seeking out and nurturing new talents.

This is where it all began, Santa Fe's first major art galleries.  Margaret Jamison and Jean Seth (Canyon Road Art Gallery) were pioneers - strong women who loved art and artists.   Margaret was a trusted confidant and friend to her artists - most of all she was kind and treated people fairly.  A gallery owner with great integrity.  Margaret exhibited and sold many of Ernie's welded sculptures.  They had great success together.
  
Over the years Margaret became my good friend and mentor.  I remember a fairly large canvas I painted of a large green door in Cerrillos.  She took it on consignment and hung it downstairs in the gallery.  At the time I thought it was on par with a Rembrandt - as I write this I am embarrassed to realize she was being quite kind.  She was a social butterfly, loved a dirty joke and could belt out the blues on request.  If she wanted a quiet evening, she would come over for dinner and spend some time with my children  - they loved her and called her Aunt Margaret.  She is remembered with great love and affection. 

More stories about Margaret in later posts - she was bigger than life!  I still miss her! 

 Credit: Margaret Jamison, oil portrait by Taos artist, Julian Robles.  

     

WORD PAINTINGS #25 - NEW BEGINNINGS

Once we settled into a daily routine, life calmed down.  Mornings, diaper changes, breakfast, laundry - now it was time for me to set up my own schedule to paint.  It was easy to spread out a comforter and all their toys on the floor of the family room.  Cheerios were everywhere.  John had his trucks and a little train set.  I put on some music and sometimes I would be able to paint for an hour or so.  Naptime - another two hours if I was lucky!  We had fun.

The alla prima technique I learned at Jan's workshop allowed me to work fast.  I was good at drawing and this method relied heavily on a "cartoon" or sketch which would then be the preparation for the heavier paint.  Soon I had built up about twenty small pieces - some of which were quite passable.  My husband had invited one of his colleagues and his new wife over for coffee.  His name was Lamar Lamb, old-timer who lived in a ranch house in Pecos right next to the river. His wife was a teacher in Santa Fe.  They both took a liking to my work and before the afternoon was over had purchased two paintings for about $100! We were later invited to their rustic log cabin home for a visit - very upscale.  I sat in an old ranch chair beside the river - a quiet joy.  Another new experience!  

We were beginning to make friends.  The Tony Luna family lived across the street from us; their teenage daughter often babysat for our gang of three.  I met a woman artist named Edda Lynne and we became friends. We made plans to go out painting together and would pack up our easels and gear and set up in local fields to paint old ruined houses.   Through our field painting trips I soon came to know places along the Turquoise Trail - Madrid, Cerrillos, Golden.  Enough old buildings and landscape material to last a lifetime!  Edda was quite prolific and soon decided to open a studio gallery across from Three Cities of Spain (now Geronimo's Restaurant).  She also exhibited a few up and comers like a young Dan Namingha, who would later open his own very successful Niman Fine Art Gallery.  Through Edda I began to get acquainted with the workings of selling art.

I received a Polaroid camera for my birthday - it was magic!  I could take photos and the pictures were ready immediately - back up info for when I got home to paint.  Everything seemed to be falling into place.  If this was my life for the rest of my life, I would be a very happy girl.

I still had a lot to learn.....   

WORD PAINTINGS #24 - LOST AND FOUND

SOMBRIO DRIVE, CASA SOLANA - We began to settle into the house - adjusting to a new kind of normal - family life. Of course we had to have furniture.  Tom Broome was Chief of the Voluntary Fire Department.  When he wasn't battling blazes, he managed his family's furniture store.  We took out some credit and purchased a dining set, sofa and some chairs all with a definite Southwestern flair.  We didn't know it then, but we were at the front end of "Santa Fe Style".  The twins were starting to walk. They had their own language.  When they didn't want us to understand what mischievous scheme they were concocting, they would resort to their mysterious form of gibberish.  Bought my son a little bike and a pail and shovel - when he wasn't riding, he was rearranging the landscape.  I set up my corner in the family room - a small easel, the worktable and all my paints and brushes.  As soon as there was some semblance of order, I began to put to use the information I gathered from Jan's workshop and painted in my "spare time".  My husband quit his job at the high school and began teaching at a nearby college run by the Christian Brothers.  Ernie, the sixth member of our family had sold enough sculptures to purchase a plot of land high on a ridge slightly outside of town.

Weekends were our favorite time. We began to explore - picnic lunches at the Pecos Monument, lunch at a fairly new restaurant called Rancho de Chimayo - trips to galleries, shops on the Plaza, Healy-Matthews Bookstore on Marcy Street, lunch at The Shed.  On one trip to Hyde Park I said "This is God's country" - My son said " I just saw him" - ''Where did you see him, John?" - "Back there - He was just walking down the road!"  He was so sincere that I turned around and looked where he was pointing!

What I loved most about our new home were the people and their eagerness to tell me their stories - their family histories.  I was awed by the ancient pueblo culture and knew there were mysteries I would never fully understand - I was content with not knowing.  I loved the warmth and kindness of my new Hispanic friends.  And then I learned to love the food, but not at first.  On our first trip to Chimayo I ordered the only meal on the menu that didn't have chile on it.  Arturo Jaramillo  urged me to try an enchilada, but I was afraid it would be too hot.  Hah! Look at me now, more than fifty years later - green chile a definite addiction! 

How do you describe the brilliance of a New Mexico sky to someone who has never left Chicago?  My eyes were still trying to adjust.  How does one begin to measure distance in miles instead  of city blocks?  Absolutely nothing was familiar to me.  I had lost my bearings.  My Big City girl persona no longer applied to life in this strange landscape - I had to listen and learn.   Time for me to get real!

#23 - THE ONLY CONSTANT IS CHANGE!!!

Looking back on all my years at the easel, I have only met two or three artists as generous as Jan Herring.  She poured information into us - new words, new methods, technique.  No question went unanswered.  Our class came together as strangers and when Friday came around we had shared some very precious hours - no bitching, no gossip - just five days of colorful discussions about painting!  We became Soul Sisters in Spirit.  Time to pack up my brushes and wet paintings and go home to my babies.   My roomate's mother gave me a lift back to the little house on Alegre Street.

Return to the Real World!  The house was filled with moving boxes!  We were at the very end of Alegre Street and much of the neighborhood's effluent had backed up into our bathtub while I was away.  My husband had been negotiating with a fellow who "flipped" houses and we were moving to Sombrio Drive in a fairly new subdivision called Casa Solana.  Heaven awaited us. The home was newer, lighter, brighter - no floor furnaces! My spirits lifted.  The washer and dryer was in the family room and I found an old worktable in the backyard, just perfect for paints and brushes.   I mentally marked my my new painting territory near a back window. A closed backyard for the babies!  If we stood tippy-toe at the front window, we could see the mountain known as Old Baldy.  One of the realtor's selling points - a house with a view.   Life was moving swiftly and while my little ones napped, I packed up their clothes and toys and hoped this move would bring us all to a better place.

There was still a coldness in my marriage.  So much had happened - the forced move from Chicago, the workshop and now another move.   I still felt wounded, betrayed and very tired. All the changes and chaos didn't give us time to even discuss how to move forward as a couple.   I would look across the dinner table and know that this man was a stranger to me.  I didn't know it then, but the workshop had altered my little world - nothing would ever be the same.  I had changed profoundly.  It was still my intention to try to be a good partner - keep the children happy, keep a good home - and paint when there was time.  In the back of my mind I had an idea that perhaps I could improve enough to be able to sell some work and bring in some extra income.  It was also my hope that we might slowly come together - become a real family.  Right now we were like new roomates trying to get acquainted with one another.  Mountains to climb....

  

#22 - Taos 9/15/18 -REFLECTION

Twelve days ago I celebrated my 79th birthday!  A little bittersweet.... Do I miss those long ago days when I had great legs, a nice smile and lived life with strong certainty that I could accomplish anything? - Hell, Yes!!!  Now I move ever more slowly and my word of the day, every day, is "Adapt"!  I walk with a cane - a crooked knee the result of my glory weightlifting days at the Northside Health Spa - I leg lifted 400 lbs - not a smart move.   A lovely lady named "Hope" comes in to help me clean twice a month.  Am working very hard to keep my home to  a certain minimalism in order to avoid having my own special on Hoarders!.  Willingly gave up my car keys about three years ago - figure I probably saved a few lives by staying off the highway!  Am finding this time in my life to be quite adventuresome - like visiting an unfamiliar planet!  I had no intention of ever being "old"!

The temptation is to pretend that I am still capable of setting the world on fire!  Yeah, right after my afternoon nap!  The other day I saw a woman doing a marathon for old people at the age of 106!  Damn!  Puts me to shame.  I am slower now - I stop and rest every so often while doing housework.  Satisfied that I won't make the Guinness Book of World Records anytime soon.  If there is an award for quiet determination, I will take first prize! 

The underpainting above"Autumn Fields at Ranchitos" is 60"x36" inches - I have been working on it for a while now and plan to have it finished by Monday or Tuesday of next week.  It is one of my favorite places - high on a ridge above this little valley.  Whenever life got too chaotic, I would get into my pickup truck and park on that little hill to feel the peace and silence.  Yes,  I still find great joy in my work -- purpose and meaning.

This blog is part of my new adventure.  Have wanted to quit several times, because some of it is very difficult to relive.  What I know for sure is that life is never lived in a straight line - there are no accidents.  There have been amazing "Wayshowers" throughout my life.  These writings are helping me to get reacquainted with them and to be grateful for their presence.  Am also realizing there was no "good" or "bad" - each experience was essential from the beginning until this very day!  Am certain there are some surprises waiting just around the corner!