Vibrant Village ™

Portrait of Sally Anger, artist, at five

My mom likes to recall how when I was a kid I would sometimes say “Mommy, I’m bored…”  She would  reply: “Well, would you like to help me scrub the kitchen floor?” At which point I invariably found something very creative to do (something that did not involve housework – unfortunately a trait that continues to this day!)

In the book A Creative Companion by Sark, she writes:

“When I used to ask my mother so plaintively 'But there’s nothing to do!' She would reply 'You could dig a hole to China.' And just for an instant, I was transported…”

I am grateful to my mom for encouraging my creative spirit.  She wouldn’t complain if we made a mess in the name of art or cooking or building a fort.  We would clean up after, but didn’t have to worry about it during the process.  Getting messy still helps me generate new ideas.  It was very rare to hear my mom say “no” to an idea.

How patient she was to let me attempt the recipes from the All by Myself cookbook or to work at a famous new scientific experiment involving all sorts of concoctions at the kitchen counter.  She would often join in when we pulled out the watercolors and make wondrous abstractions of color and light from the inspiration of the flower garden.

At about age 7, I got it into my head that I really wanted my room to be painted like a jungle.  Mom bought the cans of spray paint and encouraged my older siblings to help.

My brother painted a big scary black bear behind the door, so I had to sleep with the door open from then on – too scared to close it and reveal that bear.  My bed was in the swamp with palm trees bending over and we had lions and tigers and a long snake.

I often wonder what the people who came to buy the house from us thought when they saw that bedroom.  It was a wonder.  All of my friends were envious.

When it came time for the kitchen floor to be painted, she encouraged us all to dribble, Jackson Pollock style, over the white base she had painted – creating a splatter-painted explosion of color.  Even our Siamese cat got in on the action when he ran across the wet paint leaving his footprints behind.

Fostering my interest in outdoor explorations and wonder at nature also nurtured that artistic spirit.  Climbing to the top of the huge mulberry tree gave me a different perspective on the world below, as did lying on my belly in the grass to really observe the ants at their busy lives or on my back watching the clouds form different shapes.

On a rainy day we would come inside and have puppet shows or build tents in the furniture.  My best friend and I would spend hours creating maps to a secret treasure we had buried in the yard for the other to find.

My mom encouraged me through her non-conformity as well.  She is sociable and enjoys interacting with people, but does not feel the need to conform to the latest fad or fashion.  Although sometimes embarrassing to a teenager, I came to really value this trait as I’ve gotten older.  I now see how it helps you to nurture your unique self.  By keeping true to who you really are without having to conform to what others want you to be, you are also true to your artistic self.

And probably one of the most important traits that my mom instilled in me is courage.  She had the courage to move by herself with two young children to the small town of Beaufort by the sea to escape the brutal Michigan winters.  It was wonderful to get out of that continuous gray weather into the vibrant sunshine of the coast.  The rich color and vibrancy of the town was a true blessing to my artistic soul.

Her courage showed me that you can venture out into the world and try something different.   She taught us to be independent and go forth in the world.

Courage and independence are crucial to an artist.  As Georgia O’Keeffe said, “Painting is not so much about talent as about having a certain amount of nerve and the ability to work at it in the right way.”

I owe a large part of my independence and nerve to my mom’s example.

Thanks, Ma.