There are many things that I have taken away from my time in art school. One is all the wonderful young people I met and made friends with. Being an older student meant I was on the outside most of the time in most of my classes. But in the studio, we were all pretty much in the same place.
In the studio, we were working towards common goals and getting ready for shared art shows. It was supportive and collegial.
We had a lot of the same complaints about our instructors, we had similar struggles with our assignments. I had to go home and take care of my family, and most of my student friends had to go off to work at night.
Sharing studio space with some of the most talented artists I knew was a luxury, and I was aware of that fact. Most studio work is done in relative solitude, and that time to talk about art and share ideas was a treasure for me.
When the time came for our thesis show I knew that my art was different from my peers. They were seeing life from the start. I was firmly seeing life from the middle, with a lot of it lived already. Much of my art was about family, and nurturing the creative spirit in my children. I felt a little self-conscious about my work, even as I was proud of it.
A young man came up to me during our opening and said, “I really like your work. It reminds me of when I was young, and hanging out with my mom. I think I’m going to go call her.”
Art can disturb us, it can upend our sensibilities. It can offend. It can be puzzling, and confusing. But art can also comfort, and reassure. I was happy to have that kind of art. To remind people of the smallness that our lives can have sometimes. Sometimes the kitchen table can be your whole world, and the voice of a child your personal symphony.
Above: Sisters II, 2014, Kathleen Ralph