Column: Bev Jackson Cotter,  Art Is…

That’s a tough one — the art of being who we are.

I know a delightful gentleman who spent most of his life being the person his family expected him to be, and he was very good at it — successful, popular, loved.

When he was about 50 years old, he discovered a new, long buried passion, and his life blossomed — successful, popular, loved, and this time, satisfied to his very soul.

How many of us are so lucky?

I have a friend who was headed in a totally different direction when a horrible football injury turned his life around, and he spent years searching for a meaningful existence. He found it in art. His paintings are incredible, and he is reaching people in ways that he never before could have imagined.

Another friend wants the song, “To Dream the Impossible Dream” sung at his funeral. I’m guessing that everyone attending will come away with a different attitude, maybe questioning their own impossible dream.

So, just what is “the art of being who we are?” Is it being caught up in the controversy and nonsense of some of today’s political battles, or the anguish of social injustice, or the pain of or physical defects, or houses underwater, or the fun of sharing a cup of coffee, or a game of pool or bridge, or of getting lost in creating?

Several years ago, when my sister was living with cancer, her husband restored a small barn on their property and turned it into a ceramic studio and classroom. For five questioning years, she was caught up in a hobby that she loved. Minutes would turn into hours, and when the family would come searching for her, she was lost in her art. What a blessing for her and for those who loved her to know how happy she was.

I am reading “No Ordinary Time” by Doris Kearns Goodwin. It’s the story of Franklin and Eleanor Roosevelt from May 1940 to December 1946. Their lives were changed forever by World War II, the tragedies and successes in Europe, Africa and the Pacific, and by the war production and civil rights struggles going on at home and abroad. Franklin found his moments of peace perusing his stamp collection and sharing cocktails with friends. Eleanor seemed to be always on the move, traveling, interviewing, writing, helping. I don’t know if she ever found real contentment.

I’m guessing that the inner peace we all seek comes in many different ways — some by their faith, others by love, or security, or success (and we all define that in different ways), or joy in the success of others.

I do know that there is something rewarding in creating — be it with wood, or paint, or gardening, or words, or fabric, or music, or drama, or any number of real objects that are transformed by our own determination — when we reach inside and find the courage to be who we are.

My Thorndike-Barnhart Dictionary describes creativity as “inventive” and “productive,” and maybe that is where the solution lies. When we are productive we are fulfilled. Younger people who are productive find purpose in their lives, and even after retirement, the happiest people are the most productive.

Creative, inventive, productive, dreaming the impossible, then being gutsy enough to follow that dream even if it is out of our comfort zone, I believe that is the art of being who we are.”

 

Bev Jackson Cotter is a member of the Albert Lea Art Center where the All Member Show will be on display through Feb. 19. It’s an opportunity for you to enjoy the art of people who enjoy “becoming who they are.”