by Susan Weinberg
We met for our last lab of the season, gathering one last time to share the stories that enrich our artwork. There were rich stories behind each piece, personal stories that resonated. We came at our topic from many angles – Inside, Outside, Boundaries, Otherness.
We met for our last lab of the season, gathering one last time to share the stories that enrich our artwork. There were rich stories behind each piece, personal stories that resonated. We came at our topic from many angles – Inside, Outside, Boundaries, Otherness.
Many were disturbed by the events in our political environment, dividing our country and families. Suddenly otherness felt very real as we struggled to reconcile differences. What is real? We longed for a time when core facts were not up for debate, when we didn't perch on an anxious edge.
Others spoke of death, an impermeable barrier of loss, the ultimate boundary. Many of us lost parents over the past year. The loss thrust us into a liminal state, new territory to navigate with uncertain tools.
We talked of feelings of otherness. They were generated by many things; parental protection from unpleasant truths, feeling outside because we weren't raised Jewish, feeling outside because we were raised Jewish, being called upon to kill in a war. All were different facets of otherness, all deeply-felt.
And we talked of our artistic process, sometimes working together to find new ways to tell stories, an iterative process that took us deeper into our subject. Our work was often layered with doorways, folds and multiple planes. We applied lessons from our teachers, finding material in the leftover elements of past work.
We talked of reconciliation, loving through our differences, having the courage to reach out to one another.
So what to do with all of that? I jotted words from each of us. Many of them felt poetic, so I have taken the liberty of assembling them below.
Courage
A cardinal chirps,
Speaking of Grief, our common muse,
Story lives between life and death.
It is a liminal space, this life,
A Minoan maze,
A twisting labyrinth to wander,
Using our compass
To find our way.
We choke back tears.
Death is part of the cycle of life,
Killing is not.
Reminded
That war looks different
From inside.
Dividing us
In experience,
And understanding.
Wear your emotions,
Wrap yourself in them,
Throw off your veil,
Let your dark hair flow.
You can’t always tell from the outside,
What someone
Is going through
Is going through
Inside.
The prophet as outsider,
Child as outsider,
Child as outsider,
Warrior as outsider.
Jew as outsider,
Non-Jew among Jews,
Jew as outsider,
Non-Jew among Jews,
Feeling incognito,
Not belonging anywhere.
Teetering on an anxious edge.
Nostalgia for a time
of agreed upon facts.
of agreed upon facts.
Puzzling contents
wrapped in noisy cellophane,
Is it real because I say it is?
Seven steps take us to the edge,
Occupying space in memory.
Doorways open,
Working together, we find a way in,
Transformation awaits
in the liminal spaces,
Transformation awaits
in the liminal spaces,
A new story out of process.
Reclaim the residue
of past work,
Organic forms spiral,
Don’t worry,
It will be what it will be.
You will find inspiration
When not looking.
It will surprise,
A glimpse out the window
Discovers beauty,
A garden blooms.
Be a beauty maker,
Be a beauty maker,
Love through our differences,
Always changing,
Reach out, reach across.
Courage.