It’s SPRING girls and boys! Calendar says so. Look out the window. Beyond the snow. See? Forsythia!!! And daffodils!!! And peepers and mud and snow…
And it’s WEDNESDAY. At least in this hemisphere. But no matter where you are it’s time to spread the luvvvv with…
RANDOM ACTS OF ART!
Time to hide little bits of art where they can be found by unsuspecting strangers. And share the evidence of your creative deviousness here. With moi, the Random Acts of Art Fairy. No…make that Random Acts of Art BUNNY! Because this is a blog hop, right? And because this week I hopped around hiding Random Acts of Art over at my day job. After hours, when no one could see me. Like the E. Bunny and the hard boiled egg stash.
I am the Rabbit. Koo-koo-ka-chu….
For those of you who don’t know, I teach art at the MOST magical place in the universe. A program for adults with developmental disabilities. If you’re brave enough to stumble around cyber construction you can check out our soon to be launched NEW website here.
Back? Okay. So you know it’s a pretty cool place. Some of my students know I’m painting rocks and might figure things out. But not all of them. And none of the other classes do. I started thinking why not hide them there? This way I’ll get some reaction from the finders. Or at least hear about it.
And maybe this will take on a life of it’s own. Become a perpetual game of re-hiding, like the eggs on Easter day.
First I put one in the weaving department. I’m fond of chenille. Really, who isn’t? Oh, and look. It’s not a heart. Susan is branching out. Imagine that!
Next I headed to the wood shop. Ohhhhh, lots of good hiding spots here. Like this one. Tucked next to a bicycle, of sorts.
And nesting in the wire brush. Or whatever it’s called.
Then I went to the snack bar. This one I super hid in an empty coin roll. Tucked in the drawer where these things are kept. Better than money any day. Which is a good excuse for a song, don’t you think?
Take it away boys!
Okay, that was fun. Any excuse for the BEATLES. Now back to business…back to hiding arty tokens.
This one is in the kitchen. In plain sight…if someone looks. And since classes take turns doing the lunch dishes someone is bound to find it.
The last one is in the clay room. In the hands of Mr. Action Figure. Handsome fella, eh? Barbi thinks he’s H.O.T. But what does she know? She’s sooo plastic.
So now it’s your turn. Got any Random Acts of Art to share this week? If you do, post the link down below where it says “You’re next…Enter here” The link stays open until Saturday 11:59 PM California time (PDT). And if you don’t have a blog but have a some photos to share send them to me and I’ll post them next week.
The first time I walked through the doors of the Neighborhood Center of the Arts I was blown away. Totally blown away. Over the years I’ve watched other visitors have the same reaction. Because the art created there is raw. Authentic on a level you won’t find in an art school.
It is amazing.
I started working there shortly after that first visit. I teach mixed media three days each week. Been there nearly fifteen years.
I’m not there because of the money, trust me. This is a nonprofit that serves developmentally disabled adults, people who were either born with their genetic wires crossed or who suffered a life altering injury before their eighteenth birthday.
I’m there for them. Because I’ve learned to see beyond their disabilities. I’ve learned to see their abilities. I’ve learned to see them as people, like you and me.
Unfortunately, the rest of the world doesn’t see them that way. The state of California sees the most vulnerable among us as the most expendable. Our budget has been slashed over and over throughout the years.
We make due without raises. We scrounge for supplies. We’ve learned to make art out of damn near anything.
But there’s one client I haven’t been able to reach. I cannot tell you her name or show you her photograph due to confidentiality restrictions. But I do want to tell you about her as best I can without stepping over the privacy line.
She’s a young woman. Autistic. She spends her time in my class on the floor, half under a table. I put paper, paint and markers next to her on the floor. Somedays she’ll write on the paper, copying words from whatever reading material is handy. Some days she’ll paint. But none of this activity lasts longer than ten minutes. And that’s on a good day.
If I’m lucky. Some days she won’t do anything.
One day, in desperation, I pulled out my iPhone. I have it loaded with art apps because, well, why not? I’m an artist. I handed it to her and she immediately began exploring the apps. I was amazed at her intuitive grasp of the programs, some of which I haven’t even figured out yet.
The iPhone kept her busy for over an hour, until it was time to go. I was amazed. Totally. These are a couple of designs she made with an app called Type Drawing. She had to type the text, pick the colors and draw.
A few weeks later I brought in my iPad. Same reaction. It was as if someone had flipped on a switch. She lit up and immediately began exploring the possibilities. She wasn’t the woman hiding out from the world, she was a young woman interacting with something outside of herself.
It was an amazing transformation, one I’d dearly love to see continue. Because something like this can change a life.
But an iPad is completely out of our budget. I know, I’ve put in the request, spoken with the powers that be. So now I’m putting the seeds out into the universe. If any of you have a connection to Apple, or belong to a service organization looking for a project or want a tax write off or just have an iPad lying around that you’re not using…well, feel free to contact my boss, Amee M. ncadirector@nccn.net (530) 272-7287.
Because you never know where you’re going to find an angel.
