Artside Out

by Susan Lobb Porter | Art, Life | 12 comments

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.