(This post is the third in a series of reflections on my experience attending ArtFest 2006).

Installment one

Installment two

In the weeks leading up to Artfest, there were two women dominating my thoughts: Louise Hay and Sacagewea.

Louise was perched on my shoulder like an African Grey* chirping words of encouragement into my ear and pecking me gently when my thoughts degenerated into the negative. How did she get there? Well, remember when I mentioned the bounty that has been heaped upon me? One kindred spirit who wishes to go nameless sent me books and books, cds and cards in a veritable abondanza of love and kindness. This gift box had a book and cd by Louise Hay called ?I Can Do It.? I listen to the cd driving to and from work. It clarifies my thoughts in an extraordinary fashion.

I know, I know?Stuart Smalley is mocking me. But I hate to tell you?this shit works. It just does. And this is what I meant when I told you the woman you knew is gone. My splenetic misanthrope is being force-fed a diet of positive thoughts. It?s definitely a two-steps forward one step back kind of motion--but the trend is forward?into new ground?with a daily increase in joy.

And this was all leading up to Artfest. Now do you see how I would be so primed for happiness overload?

Sacagewea.

Why has she been so prominent in my thoughts? Granted, the strange places my thoughts go are never easily explained on any day of the week?but this recurring presence had me puzzled.

What do I think about when she comes to mind? That she was a fucking unbelievable spirit. That she lived through kidnapping and abuse and at 16 had a baby and eight weeks later is leading Lewis and Clark through the wilderness. That?s where my thoughts just turn and turn.

I think about her body. She?s just had a baby. She?s riding in a canoe. With the baby. An infant. And her husband treats her like a slave (he bought her, after all) so she?s the one to gather food, make fire, set up camp etc etc etc. And, she was such a remarkable person, that she won the respect of Lewis and Clark?they let her ride a horse. And one of them adopted her son. Her daughter Lisette? No one knows what happened to her (she was only a year old when her mother died).

Sacagewea was about 24 when she died. No one knows any details of who was with her, if she was alone, nothing. I guess that?s what I obsess on.

I don?t know what, if any, the connection is--- but from the moment I arrived in Seattle, I definitely felt the Native American presence in a profoundly different way than I feel it here on the East Coast. Not sure I can explain it better?maybe it will crop up later as I go through the week.

Well, hell?wait. Let?s start with my first class on Thursday. The set-up at Artfest is that you have three days of classes and each day is one full class with a break for lunch.

Is that not genius? It?s so perfect. It really gives you the time and space to engage and get deeply rooted into a project while trying out some new techniques. I had no expectation of coming home with any finished projects (and I didn?t). But looking around, I think that was the norm?it seemed to me that most people used these classes as a jumping off place.

I?ve digressed, haven?t I?

Thursday. My class. It was called ?Landscapes of the Mind? and it was taught by Edgar Smith. We were to bring a photo or postcard or image of a place that had great meaning for us. Hmmm, don?t suppose you can guess what photo I brought?

Mais oui. A photo of Soliden.

He gave us all squares of wood about 14?x14?x2? that had been gessoed. We were to paint our landscape and imbue it with symbolism?his work was very ?fine arts? painterly and ventured into surrealism. I knew I wasn?t going to be able to go there?I got a good base going anyway?got the mountains and lakes all roughed in.

The photo I chose had one very large tree in the foreground and the lakes off in the distance. I thought I would transform the tree into a totem pole?but then, as I worked, the tree took on its own thing and the wings I had put in at the top to be a hawk just completely changed and the whole thing became this female spirit coming up and out of the earth ? those wings were either wings or arms extended or who knows what--- and then everything sort of took off from there.

Of course, about half-way through I started to twitch and simply had to start adding in some collage element which I think wasn?t really what the instructor intended?but hey, it?s mine and I?ll do what I want.

Now I have totally rambled. God. Where am I?

Sitting behind me in this class was Carla, one of the sweetest people I?ve ever met. She is a painter and her piece DID get finished in that class and oh god?it was so lovely. Turns out she was two doors down and we connected big time with Judy (who was right next door to me) later that night in the dorm?talking and talking and talking and sharing and did I cry? I might have cried, or gotten very teary?because we just dug in and got to the real stuff right away and we all spoke the same language. (Okay, now I am getting teary).

We all spoke the same language. This is what Artfest was for me: I found my tribe.

And, not to suggest I am a swan because that is not at all what I mean, but the Hans Christian Andersen tale of the ugly ducking was everywhere for me. The years of feeling so alienated, so alone. The years of trying so hard to fit in with people that I just wasn?t like and couldn?t be like. The years of thinking there was something terribly wrong with me.

It all was transformed in that moment as I sat with Judy (who has given me a compliment that I will hold tightly for all of my days) and Carla and we opened our hearts to each other. These, these were my peeps.

And doggone it, Stuart you smarmy fuck, they liked me.

*private note to wordybird, do you see how I?m just a scavenger?pulling every new bit into my nest, weaving and weaving?

got 2 cents?