The Independent Nation of Pamalonia

The Independent Nation of Pamalonia

I long to return to Pamalonia. Every day I look for one good thing to inspire, to delight or to comfort. Thanks for visiting!







Showing posts with label artist. Show all posts
Showing posts with label artist. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 9, 2018

Fire for the Frozen Heart

By Pam Hadder

Winter and introspection go hand in hand - as a visual artist, I have often thought of the pure white snow as canvas; a place where blue and grey shadows create new images each day, shapes and patterns that dance, shift and inspire with the changing light.  This winter has been especially magical, but it is more than the beauty of winter that has me inspired!

I am blissfully "between opportunities" - my prior employment contract ended in mid-October, and I have been applying my energies to finding new employment and to expressive arts therapy studies (ExAT). You may wonder how can looking for work and studying be blissful?  Well, curiously enough, unemployment has been a great blessing in my life, and has opened doors of opportunity that were closed to me while I was working. The change has allowed personal time for me to reflect, envision, engage and learn, and to seriously consider my life passions. I am so grateful each morning when I awaken, and I find myself re-energized, curious, eager to embrace the day, and open to possibilities. I have also learned to graciously accept help. Fiercely independent and accustomed to filling my day in support of others, I have had to learn to take time for myself, my needs and my desires.  I have been deeply encouraged by the positive regard of others and their incredible generosity and kindness toward me.

The study of expressive arts therapy has some wonderful side effects - one of our professors, the amazing Dr. Kate Donohue, often says, "we are all wounded healers," and I just LOVE that statement.  Students of ExAT need to engage in self-reflection, and fine tune understanding of personal trauma and healing before extending healing modalities to others. Through engaging all of the senses, some amazing things begin to occur - personal transformation, including physical and emotional healing are typical byproducts for students of ExAT. There is also a natural extension of internal and external resourcing which unfolds in a unique way for each individual, at their time and pace, allowing for growth of personal resilience with increased awareness.

And to think that I almost did not enrol in the course - due to the extreme demands and low supports in my prior work life, I thought I would not be able to engage fully in the coursework. My enthusiasm for expressive arts' potential for helping others was not understood or appreciated by my employer - I was so excited by the neurobiological evidence, but had no receptive ears or hearts to receive the message.  Fortunately, two supportive friends encouraged me - although I was worried about being able to make ends meet and having enough time and energy for all of life's demands, I took a giant leap of faith, and  I nervously followed my muse. I have no regrets! I am thankful for those two friends that really saw my heart of hearts - those two who said, "You have to do this," "You would be so great at this!"

I have had a typical human life thus far - with my share of ups and downs. I acknowledge my privilege as a white, university educated, middle class North American woman of mixed European settler heritage. I never acknowledged my personal trauma, however. Most of us know what it is like to lose a loved one to accident, illness or violence. As women, we know what it means to be sexualized and marginalized, even in the most wealthy and privileged of world nations. Most of us deal with illness and injury - our own, and that of loved ones. And many of us have weathered less-than-ideal relationships, whether in the family home, in personal relationships, or in the workplace. 

However, through my engagement in the expressive arts as therapy, I soon understood that I had experienced both classic and complex trauma. From early childhood years, I had naturally gravitated toward music, writing, visual art and performance to understand, express and heal from life's woundings. I began to open my mind, body and spirit to the healing dynamic within the expressive arts, and to trust in my innate ability to both heal and to help others.  A further benefit of this learning process has been a surge in my own creative output - not for glory, fame, but for the pure delight, expression and wellness of my soul. Since October 2017 I have written five or six songs for guitar - an amount equal to my writing efforts of the last four years!  ExAT has not only helped me to feel better, but it has unleashed my creativity.

Expressive art therapy pioneer, Natalie Rogers, coined the term "creative connection" in the 1980s. Creative connection was Rogers' way to describe the productive synergies that result when moving between expressive arts modalities: music, movement, dance, vocalizing, visual art and the written word. Although, I have always been drawn to visual art, movement, music and creative writing, since enrolling in the ExAT program, I have experienced the power of the expressive arts like never before.  We often hear about music as the universal language, and that visual art can capture emotions, and we may feel a stirring in our hearts when we participate or witness any combination or single performance of expressive arts.  But we aren't typically encouraged to express by movement how we feel about a painting, or to vocalize how dance made us feel. Creative endeavors have been commodified, edified and placed on a lofty cultural pedestal accessible only by a elite few. Creative outputs are judged, critiqued and limitations and standards applied to exclude and to demean those who might venture beyond those structures. A rare few manage to avoid or break the bonds and succeed while being true to their spirit. Expressive Arts Therapy disrupts this falsehood - creativity is fundamental to every human being, and it is cross-cultural, it is how we communicate as humans, and it is what set us apart on the evolutionary journey.

And so, friends, this is where you find me - I am blissfully between opportunities - centred and joyful, perfectly imperfect, a life-long student of living.


Friday, March 29, 2013

Queer Divine Satisfaction


By Pam Hadder

There is vitality, a life force, energy, a quickening that is translated through you into action, and because there is only one of you in all time, this expression is unique. And if you block it, it will never exist through any other medium and it will be lost. The world will not have it. It is not your business to determine how good it is nor how valuable nor how it compares with other expressions. It is your business to keep it yours clearly and directly, to keep the channel open. You have to keep yourself open and aware to the urges that motivate you. Keep the channel open…No artist is pleased. [There is] no satisfaction whatever at any time. There is only a queer divine dissatisfaction, a blessed unrest that keeps us marching and makes us more alive than the others.” 
– Martha Graham

The more I experience in life and the more I learn and open myself to expression, the more I recognize how truly remarkable the moments of true connection are.  Through music, academic study, visual art and the written word, I am working to understand my place, my identity, my gifts – and I recognize that this all is part of a profound yearning to connect with my personal purpose. I have always been independent – I made the choices I made based on my internal cues, and resisted external pressures, peer pressures.  As a result of non-conformity, I have been an outsider; including within my own life – a voiceless and formless observer, lonely in crowded places, and ever-searching.I have also been malleable, naïve; constrained and framed by pre-existing external and environmental structures which (constantly, consistently, persistently) told me who I was, who I could be, what was good and bad, what was right and wrong – although I resisted internally, and also externally at times, I cannot deny that I was shaped and guided by these forces. The result was a construct, a false “self” which housed/contained/imprisoned the authentic person.

At this moment I am working on a paintings and sculpture series for a course in colonizing/decolonizing art and visual culture. Through this work, combined with other coursework I have been able to emerge from the false self – reborn into understanding, awareness, while breaking free of colonized controls.  And so, I am a very young child with new, inquiring eyes and hands; finding my way, playing, trying new things.  I find myself looking at spaces and places that seem unfamiliar.  Everything is new, curious, re-framed – the good and the bad, what it means to love, what it means to be “woman.”  And my art waits patiently, endures and forgives, while I work intuitively to express with layers of paint, with melted bits of recycled water bottles, with words strung together –haphazard ebullience.

What surprises me the most is not the level and complexity of emotions elicited by this journey, but how it has enhanced my feelings of “being without space or place” and “being out of sync with time.”  I followed this path seeking affirmation, knowledge, yes, but a comforting kind of “yes, Darling.”  I never banked on this upheaval, this brilliance, this revelation, this beauty, this sorrow, this exhaustion, this exhilaration. My spirit blazes, blinding white, tireless and spontaneous, but my mature adult physiology is at odds with that inner reality.  I now understand why I am driven toward learning new languages: music, academic/feminist, artistic/visual, cultural – my spirit has reached this critical mass of tolerance.  It is weary of being suppressed, its incarceration has been served – it pleads, it shouts “let me speak!”  Most often I am half-terrified, thrust out of my cell, my virtual and actual life prison, and sometimes I want to scream - “Hello, hello, can anybody hear me in here; out there?” But I tell myself – “keep going; fight the good fight; it’s all related somewhere, there is an ending place, a place of intersection, a crossroads where all will be realized.”  And on the other hand, I rationalize, that learning has no end, it only expands one’s field of vision, one’s reference and reveals  more bread crumbs of unknowing.

So at this moment, I struggle, I am thankful, I doubt myself, I weep, I laugh, I question, I am silent – it’s all about trying to communicate with my authentic self.  There is an awful lot of failing, failing, failing – there is no room for an over-stuffed ego.  And sleep holds no escape; I have nightmares about Tinkerbell and other free-flowing odd themes – the spirited child bucks and rollicks in a woman’s body and mind, a wild maestro of sorts assembling and commanding the unforeseen, the unimagined – I mean, good God; what am I?   When my mind is numb from thinking and stimulation, and when my body is absolutely fatigued, I tire of disappointment, I tire of trying to connect, I tire of trying to make the best out of whatever scraps the wheel of life throws my way.  I am my comfort and my playmate – a woman, being led along an uncertain path by a precocious, dancing child – slightly out of step, and definitely in the wrong space and time.  Such as it is, this is my authentic space and time; this is my authentic self.

Monday, July 25, 2011

Four Strings

















When most people think of banjo and they think BLUEGRASS - well there's much more to it. Until the electric guitar became such a big part of ensemble music, the four-string tenor banjo's rich tones were integral to jazz music.


My thrill of the week (maybe the month, the year???) was having my friend un-case her banjo (yes, four-string tenor) yesterday and play a few licks. Ain't She Sweet and Bye Bye Blues - sweet indeed and blue no longer - OMG!

The kicker... I got to add a little paint to her 70s banjo case - complete with Hang Ten style feet and daisies, I kept her young girl art intact and touched up a bit of the colour, adding in a few more flowers. Love when music, art and summer all meld together - heaven piercing thru the mundane day to let us know what really matters xo! BTW... Photos are details of a visual journal portrait I did for The Bird - play on, Girl, your talent is a spectacular gift.









Sunday, March 27, 2011

Red, White, Green


Last March I was travelling through Tuscany with my son and my best friend - it was Spring Break for my little guy, and we all had an amazing adventure. This year, I am sticking close to home, but Italy has been on my mind! I used to really hate March because, not only is the weather miserable and fickle (is spring coming or not???), but I also lost my Father (1999) and my niece (2004) in March, so there was always this association with loss, grief and emptiness. Having visited Toscana and experienced the warmth of the people, the surreal beauty of the landscape and unmatched flavours, textures and colours that only that region can provide, I am finding that my memories of that magical time have cancelled out the muddy, cold patch that was my March experience.


Breathing the cool air and face to the sunshine, I recall my bare feet on the terra cotta floors of our villa, making Cafe Vergnano in the little kitchen that opened to a private terrace. The succulent blood oranges, dreamy yogurt, incredible prosciutto and cheese, and just the scent of the air -- I can replay the experience with complete, vivid recall.


I feel fortunate to have experienced such beauty and goodness, and that my son also enjoyed and remembers fondly our time together in Italy. It is such a gift to have memories of sorrow replaced by ones of creativity, engagement of the six senses and rejuvenation of the spirit.


Until we can return, Toscana, I will recreate little pieces of you in my daily life: wrapped in my moss-green cashmere cape, walking in the sunshine and cool air, and looking for beauty in the ordinary things around me.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Tranquility


White Light
For an artist, a white canvas is both a challenge and an opportunity - you can do anything you want, limited only by your imagination. It is very much like stepping out into the winter air and being the first to make an impression in the newly fallen snow.

Right now I have several canvases and objects awaiting my painterly touch - it's like the stark winter landscape is sneaking into my studio as winter hangs on into March. I don't want to go out, so it is coming to find me.

Seeing that I am beginning to fade away, my employer has ordered me to take a creative day this coming week - starting to get excited, but that day (although greatly appreciated) is never quite enough; I could lose myself in my studio (or find myself?) for days on end.

Snow Drifts
By this time of the year, I admit that I am tired of the blanched landscapes of my homeland -- post-blizzard this a.m. the view was almost blinding; even with my transitions glasses perched on my nose! But there is purity and introspection and inspiration in that whiteness -- and yes, great beauty. The bride awaits and I have assumed the role of her suitor.