When I think of the battles, many people face every day, disease, and illness, disabilities, poverty, natural disasters, abuse, bigotry, addiction, mental health, it’s almost embarrassing for me to stand here in front of you, and claim that I know or understand anything about the courage it takes to be whole. I’ve pretty much skipped through my privileged life with a few scars. Most self inflicted. It wasn’t really courage that got me through the difficult times as much as it was naïveté, a little stubbornness and a whole lot of grace.
So, all of this feels a little self indulgent. Like many before me, as I faced midlife, my capacity to manage stress, to take in all that life and the world threw at me, to process it, hold it and to let it go has diminished. My little personality quirks seem magnified; my ability to compensate for my shortcomings, skills which served me well most my life, are less effective now, and my tolerance for stress and drama, all used up.
This was becoming clear to me some 12 years ago after the death of my first husband and the ultimate end of our complicated marriage. I knew then that I was forcing myself, willing myself to perform in the work world with its workplace structures and workplace expectation, and difficult workplace people. (Square peg -round hole) I was making my left brain do all the work, and it was exhausting. It was about that time that I adopted the Instagram handle Be_Wen (Be Wendy) longing to re-discover my creative self: the person who won the student art shows; the window dresser and set designer; the person who wrote plays and songs and poems; the award winning video producer; the storyteller and creative director. The person who once heard a friend say, “Wendy is the most creative person I know.” Where had she gone? To the dark side of efficiency and effectiveness!
I finally worked through my fears and found the courage to leave my job. It was a process. But as quickly as I stepped away, I stepped into a new role at City Hall. A once in a lifetime, very fulfilling and admirable role. For the ‘greater good’ I push through. There we accomplished great things, big things, important things, but after six years, I was completely used up mentally and physically. I simply had nothing left to give anyone, and so with many tears, I finally stepped away from a job I loved and began resting…not working…my way back to wholeness.
To start, with the incredibly loving support of my husband Brian, I carved out a little studio space at the back of our garage, and began to play with no expectation that anything I created would be good, with no expectation that anything I created would be seen by others. I made messes. I splashed paint. I made little crafts. I took online art courses. I even weaved (extremely therapeutic! I understand now why they used basket weaving in mental hospitals) Little by little Wendy returned.
The physical act of moving into that space every day and doing things with my hands, by losing myself in projects for hours (Flow)I rewired my brain. It woke the sleeping creative right side, my anxiety less frequent, I could sleep again (mostly). my general sense of well- being was greatly enhanced.
Neuroscience , the study of Neuroaesthetics and Neuroplasticity, validates my personal hypothesis and my experience. Art and play could make me whole.
To be whole is to have balance between our mind, body and soul, but in a world addicted to productivity, addicted to information, addicted to distraction it’s easy to get out of whack, easy to lose yourself in the trying to keep up with it all. It takes courage to let go of roles and security. It takes courage to be still and listen to the silence. It takes courage to go against the grain.
These eight pieces weren’t planned. In fact, they almost didn’t happen at all. The forms were literally on their way out the door and my collection of stuff, junk, treasures were being purged. But then…I picked up one of ‘the girls’ and began to wrap her in twine. I wrapped and wrapped and wrapped (it was a really large ball of twine,) and when I came to the end of the rope, as so often in life, I could do nothing else, but let go. “There you are. I recognize you.”
Suddenly I saw possibility amidst the clutter, connection between all these things I had curated over time. I saw how among this strange collections of stuff was a story.
What do I hope you take away from this collection? Well, I hope the work speaks for itself, that it speaks to you wherever you are in your work towards wholeness. I hope you see yourself. I hope they give you courage to do what’s next, to see possibility and potential. I hope they encourage you to take up your brush or pencil or musical instrument, a garden hoe, a camera, wooden spoon or spatula, or that you would sit in a concert hall or theater. That you will let the power of Art, and, beauty and play be tonic for your soul, an antidote to the toxicity of the world, the fuse that ignites your creativity. I hope you will lose yourself for a few hours only to find your whole self; mind, body and soul.
Acknowledgements
Kendra Walhert - Proprietor of The Ragged Edge, for believing in me when all I had was a couple photos on my phone of two pieces.
Juli Camaran for stunning photography!
For my little Art tribe, who give me so much encouragement and a safe place to be me. Kindreds.
My son Dave Knapp who built my website.
My son John Knapp who built my work bench is always willing to lend a hand.
My daughter Brooke, who is my number one promoter.
To my daughter Ann Metz for doing her own self work and believing in herself as an artist. She’s my teacher and the one who, by example, really has shown me the way.
To my unbelievably supportive husband Brian Bowman whose love is the real healer of my heart.
All my family members and dear friends here tonight who love and forgive me in spite of my shortcomings and weirdness and awkwardness.
And to all of you thank you for being here to share this special moment and for indulging me.
Have courage. Make art. Be whole.
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