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My art process. Military Life. My Cause.

Space. Separation. Solitude.

TEN Years ago I wrote this post and as I reread it, it still rings true!

As a military spouse I have experienced different types of separation. Separations with many time zones crossed. Some with more uncertainties than others. In this age of instant communication, I have learned about waiting. I have sent many emails that feel like “lost letters.” During one separation that felt the longest for me, I did not hear from him for over two weeks. Not an email. Not a phone call. Not a text. That disconnection was almost unbearable.


Deployment...


Hours, days, weeks, months....they all add up. Personally it feels like time behaves differently when your other half is in harm's way. This piece is an attempt to depict the way time feels.

The first time showing it at Artprize.

 Overall size 8' x 25' (made up of 18, 8'x6" canvases)....still blank, paint coming soon!

 Overall size 8' x 25' (made up of 18, 8'x6" canvases)....still blank, paint coming soon!

Even though I have been gathering info from my soldier about wartime images ,the spacing in this piece describes the element of time from my perspective. In the beginning there is a dragging on. Almost a ripping away feeling, as I have spent every possible moment with him before he leaves, and then he’s just gone. There’s a painful emptiness.

I remember my first deployment goodbye EVER in 2010. We stayed up late the night before, we got a movie with every intention to watch it, but didn’t get around to it. He bought flowers (upon my request) because beauty has a way of lifting my spirit. We woke up and he made videos for me to watch while he was gone (for when I miss him and can't call him - because I have to wait for him to contact me.)

We went to Waffle House, and conversation was awkward. I wanted to enjoy it and be normal, but in my mind I knew in a couple hours I would be giving him his last hug and kiss for a WHILE. A long while. Words were stuck in my throat. So I just looked at him and commented about the food, small talking my way through it. Anyone who knows me would tell you this is not my style. I love delving deep. Not this time. I wanted to just keep it (mostly) together and try to think about anything except this HUGE gap we were facing. He surprised me after breakfast, and we stopped at a nearby park and strolled, enjoying what beauty was left that February. We embraced and even danced to one of our songs in order to feel close before we drove to where I was dropping him off. It is all the small things in those moments that matter. The hand holding, the hugs, the kisses, my mind and heart try desperately to capture them, how they feel.

a picture of how big the first gap will be. (22inches)

a picture of how big the first gap will be. (22inches)

The together memories are freshest in the beginning. The days drag as I learn to accept this will be my reality for a while. I will not get to welcome him home each night. I will not be sharing about my days over dinner every evening. We will not be keeping each other warm as we fall asleep. So I depicted the second longest space in the very beginning of my piece. For me it takes a bit to change gears. To figure out what this separation is going to look like.  On both ends. How will the internet be where he is going? How often will he be able to call or Skype? How busy will he be? Who will I spend most of my time with here? Who do I know that is facing the same thing right now? How can I stop avoiding my empty bed?


Eventually plans do get made…..sometimes more than others. I get some sleep. A groove is found and the pieces getting closer together reflect that new rhythm. It is not a given, but many times I can find a friend or two and we do dinner together or hang out on the weekends. 

Me stuck in the middle.

Me stuck in the middle.

Then there is the half way slump. It is a mixture of emotions….I feel happy that I’ve made it half way, but then again that first half felt SO long… can I really make it through the second half?! Can I really face it? The time and distance are so massive, there is no way around it. Busying myself or traveling doesn’t make it go away. The separation goes with me. Each time I come home or there is a lull in the busyness, the separation is there. The longing to be together. The desire to connect for an entire evening, not just a snippet of time. But those snippets get me through. The emails that are in my inbox when I wake up. The rare occasion of a package or letter. The phone calls or iMessages when he’s available. They all get me through. It takes work to stay connected and open, for both of us. This piece is about being WORLDS APART but still working to be TOGETHER, through the good, the bad and the ugly.

Usually I have my "Half Way Never. Going. To. Make. It. Meltdown".... because I feel that I should be encouraged or MORE encouraged that we are halfway through, but some days all I can see is how BIG the second half seems. Eventually I find my rhythm again. I get back into doing life and making plans. Often I have a couple things planned that I look forward to.

It’s helpful if I spread my plans out a bit, because I have learned over time that depending on the build-up or preparation, I can experience a bit of a letdown afterward. For example, my third daughter turned ONE last deployment and historically (with our other two) their first birthdays were a BIG deal. Even though she wouldn’t have known that I didn’t throw a party (until she was much older); I felt it was important to stay true to our traditions, even though my husband was gone. Thankfully with GOOD help and  a little money spent (for some items that I wouldn’t normally pay for), IT WAS A GREAT BASH! I did it! The rain held off, people came, everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. But afterward there was that letdown…. I have realized it with other big events too.  A sort of build up and excitement before and during the event, and then a low when it is finished. My friend described it as “an adrenaline letdown.” Combined with my normal good and bad days of deployment, I can fall into the pit of despair if not careful.

One of my books I am making to stay connected to the good memories.

One of my books I am making to stay connected to the good memories.

I am a person that craves closeness and connection. One thing I do while to keep my heart open and soft while we are separated is to reflect. I reflect on the good times by making books with our old photos. During our second deployment I made a book about our beginnings. I wrote about our first date and our wedding, plus our first year. It is something I still look back on to remind myself how much we love each other. Our vows are in there so we revisit them on our anniversary. I also have a special playlist on my phone that is called “love stretching the miles”. They are all songs that make me think of my love. Sometimes  I play them loud and dance silly. Other times I just cry as my heart is softened and remind myself that no matter how many times we say goodbye, I still matter to him.

The “home” stretch is always a whirlwind of emotions for me. Not unlike many of my fellow army wives, we have goals to accomplish in the time apart. Sometimes that half way point can be a wake up call that I haven’t gotten as much done as I had hoped to. Whether the goals are projects or fitness oriented (two seemingly common goal areas), if the first half is unproductive, the disappointment can set in. When that is the case I have to remember that I am not “winning him back” or “proving my worth”, I am WELCOMING HIM HOME. I keep chipping away, but mostly I need to “be kind to myself” and judge my accomplishments in light of all I shoulder when my other half is gone.

My girls with their Auntie preparing a sign for daddy, morning of his return.

My girls with their Auntie preparing a sign for daddy, morning of his return.

The COUNTDOWN is an exciting time. It is close enough that I have to start leaving my schedule open to account for the BIG change that is about to occur. Wanting him home and wanting the wait to be over is so thick, I find that I am distracted by it. It can be consuming. Sometimes there is a surge of activity, but I choose to pace myself. He is not just coming home to the 4 walls, but to me. I need to be open to him relationally. The end stretches on to what feels like forever…..I try to prepare my mind for a stage that I never knew existed: REINTEGRATION…..This is the time of trying to become a family all in one place again. Everyone has changed. And even the GOOD changes take adjusting to.   There is pain and hardship that has to be unburdened on both sides and intentional TIME TOGETHER is the only way I know how to figure it out….of course personal space is needed too, but I must not give in to the thought that being healthy “just happens” by him returning home.

Special Daddy- daughter tea time.  

Special Daddy- daughter tea time.  

Before I ever experienced deployment, my expectations of separation and how I would feel were different than reality. I thought “I am a independent person, I have art to make and friends to hang with…” . But I can feel lonely even with all that.  I miss the fun and lightheartedness that my husband brings to my life. Life with him has the potential for a crazy adventure every weekend. New projects. Impromptu dinner parties, just FUN. I am naturally a bit more serious……yet I am learning that I need a variety of interactions, deep conversations, as well as silly and light times. When He is gone, I must be more intentional about seeking this out.

Deployments have taught me that I need others who are in tune to me and my rhythms. Ones who know the cycle of emotions that come with deployment, usually because they have lived it, or are living it beside me. This is one reason the gardens at Rick's Place are so special to me. COMMUNITY. I've found a place to be me whether my husband is deployed or not. It's a place where there is no shame in receiving, but also plenty of ways to give back.

Earlier this month we people planting out at Rick's Place.

Earlier this month we people planting out at Rick's Place.

Space. Separation. Solitude.

TEN Years ago I wrote this post and as I reread it, it still rings true!

As a military spouse I have experienced different types of separation. Separations with many time zones crossed. Some with more uncertainties than others. In this age of instant communication, I have learned about waiting. I have sent many emails that feel like “lost letters.” During one separation that felt the longest for me, I did not hear from him for over two weeks. Not an email. Not a phone call. Not a text. That disconnection was almost unbearable.


Deployment...


Hours, days, weeks, months....they all add up. Personally it feels like time behaves differently when your other half is in harm's way. This piece is an attempt to depict the way time feels.

The first time showing it at Artprize.

 Overall size 8' x 25' (made up of 18, 8'x6" canvases)....still blank, paint coming soon!

 Overall size 8' x 25' (made up of 18, 8'x6" canvases)....still blank, paint coming soon!

Even though I have been gathering info from my soldier about wartime images ,the spacing in this piece describes the element of time from my perspective. In the beginning there is a dragging on. Almost a ripping away feeling, as I have spent every possible moment with him before he leaves, and then he’s just gone. There’s a painful emptiness.

I remember my first deployment goodbye EVER in 2010. We stayed up late the night before, we got a movie with every intention to watch it, but didn’t get around to it. He bought flowers (upon my request) because beauty has a way of lifting my spirit. We woke up and he made videos for me to watch while he was gone (for when I miss him and can't call him - because I have to wait for him to contact me.)

We went to Waffle House, and conversation was awkward. I wanted to enjoy it and be normal, but in my mind I knew in a couple hours I would be giving him his last hug and kiss for a WHILE. A long while. Words were stuck in my throat. So I just looked at him and commented about the food, small talking my way through it. Anyone who knows me would tell you this is not my style. I love delving deep. Not this time. I wanted to just keep it (mostly) together and try to think about anything except this HUGE gap we were facing. He surprised me after breakfast, and we stopped at a nearby park and strolled, enjoying what beauty was left that February. We embraced and even danced to one of our songs in order to feel close before we drove to where I was dropping him off. It is all the small things in those moments that matter. The hand holding, the hugs, the kisses, my mind and heart try desperately to capture them, how they feel.

a picture of how big the first gap will be. (22inches)

a picture of how big the first gap will be. (22inches)

The together memories are freshest in the beginning. The days drag as I learn to accept this will be my reality for a while. I will not get to welcome him home each night. I will not be sharing about my days over dinner every evening. We will not be keeping each other warm as we fall asleep. So I depicted the second longest space in the very beginning of my piece. For me it takes a bit to change gears. To figure out what this separation is going to look like.  On both ends. How will the internet be where he is going? How often will he be able to call or Skype? How busy will he be? Who will I spend most of my time with here? Who do I know that is facing the same thing right now? How can I stop avoiding my empty bed?


Eventually plans do get made…..sometimes more than others. I get some sleep. A groove is found and the pieces getting closer together reflect that new rhythm. It is not a given, but many times I can find a friend or two and we do dinner together or hang out on the weekends. 

Me stuck in the middle.

Me stuck in the middle.

Then there is the half way slump. It is a mixture of emotions….I feel happy that I’ve made it half way, but then again that first half felt SO long… can I really make it through the second half?! Can I really face it? The time and distance are so massive, there is no way around it. Busying myself or traveling doesn’t make it go away. The separation goes with me. Each time I come home or there is a lull in the busyness, the separation is there. The longing to be together. The desire to connect for an entire evening, not just a snippet of time. But those snippets get me through. The emails that are in my inbox when I wake up. The rare occasion of a package or letter. The phone calls or iMessages when he’s available. They all get me through. It takes work to stay connected and open, for both of us. This piece is about being WORLDS APART but still working to be TOGETHER, through the good, the bad and the ugly.

Usually I have my "Half Way Never. Going. To. Make. It. Meltdown".... because I feel that I should be encouraged or MORE encouraged that we are halfway through, but some days all I can see is how BIG the second half seems. Eventually I find my rhythm again. I get back into doing life and making plans. Often I have a couple things planned that I look forward to.

It’s helpful if I spread my plans out a bit, because I have learned over time that depending on the build-up or preparation, I can experience a bit of a letdown afterward. For example, my third daughter turned ONE last deployment and historically (with our other two) their first birthdays were a BIG deal. Even though she wouldn’t have known that I didn’t throw a party (until she was much older); I felt it was important to stay true to our traditions, even though my husband was gone. Thankfully with GOOD help and  a little money spent (for some items that I wouldn’t normally pay for), IT WAS A GREAT BASH! I did it! The rain held off, people came, everyone seemed to enjoy themselves. But afterward there was that letdown…. I have realized it with other big events too.  A sort of build up and excitement before and during the event, and then a low when it is finished. My friend described it as “an adrenaline letdown.” Combined with my normal good and bad days of deployment, I can fall into the pit of despair if not careful.

One of my books I am making to stay connected to the good memories.

One of my books I am making to stay connected to the good memories.

I am a person that craves closeness and connection. One thing I do while to keep my heart open and soft while we are separated is to reflect. I reflect on the good times by making books with our old photos. During our second deployment I made a book about our beginnings. I wrote about our first date and our wedding, plus our first year. It is something I still look back on to remind myself how much we love each other. Our vows are in there so we revisit them on our anniversary. I also have a special playlist on my phone that is called “love stretching the miles”. They are all songs that make me think of my love. Sometimes  I play them loud and dance silly. Other times I just cry as my heart is softened and remind myself that no matter how many times we say goodbye, I still matter to him.

The “home” stretch is always a whirlwind of emotions for me. Not unlike many of my fellow army wives, we have goals to accomplish in the time apart. Sometimes that half way point can be a wake up call that I haven’t gotten as much done as I had hoped to. Whether the goals are projects or fitness oriented (two seemingly common goal areas), if the first half is unproductive, the disappointment can set in. When that is the case I have to remember that I am not “winning him back” or “proving my worth”, I am WELCOMING HIM HOME. I keep chipping away, but mostly I need to “be kind to myself” and judge my accomplishments in light of all I shoulder when my other half is gone.

My girls with their Auntie preparing a sign for daddy, morning of his return.

My girls with their Auntie preparing a sign for daddy, morning of his return.

The COUNTDOWN is an exciting time. It is close enough that I have to start leaving my schedule open to account for the BIG change that is about to occur. Wanting him home and wanting the wait to be over is so thick, I find that I am distracted by it. It can be consuming. Sometimes there is a surge of activity, but I choose to pace myself. He is not just coming home to the 4 walls, but to me. I need to be open to him relationally. The end stretches on to what feels like forever…..I try to prepare my mind for a stage that I never knew existed: REINTEGRATION…..This is the time of trying to become a family all in one place again. Everyone has changed. And even the GOOD changes take adjusting to.   There is pain and hardship that has to be unburdened on both sides and intentional TIME TOGETHER is the only way I know how to figure it out….of course personal space is needed too, but I must not give in to the thought that being healthy “just happens” by him returning home.

Special Daddy- daughter tea time.  

Special Daddy- daughter tea time.  

Before I ever experienced deployment, my expectations of separation and how I would feel were different than reality. I thought “I am a independent person, I have art to make and friends to hang with…” . But I can feel lonely even with all that.  I miss the fun and lightheartedness that my husband brings to my life. Life with him has the potential for a crazy adventure every weekend. New projects. Impromptu dinner parties, just FUN. I am naturally a bit more serious……yet I am learning that I need a variety of interactions, deep conversations, as well as silly and light times. When He is gone, I must be more intentional about seeking this out.

Deployments have taught me that I need others who are in tune to me and my rhythms. Ones who know the cycle of emotions that come with deployment, usually because they have lived it, or are living it beside me. This is one reason the gardens at Rick's Place are so special to me. COMMUNITY. I've found a place to be me whether my husband is deployed or not. It's a place where there is no shame in receiving, but also plenty of ways to give back.

Earlier this month we people planting out at Rick's Place.

Earlier this month we people planting out at Rick's Place.

Names Matter

I turned 33 at the end of last year. Thirty-three was a big year for me, for my art. I completed 9 pieces and celebrated by throwing an Art Naming and Wine Tasting party. My husband and I had traveled to San Fransico and Napa Valley (California) for our 6th year anniversary/welcome home/reconnect trip last year. That trip inspired the wine tasting part. Art and wine go well together because wine makers take the art of making wine very seriously. Each one has its unique style and process variation that influences the final "creation." I wasn't aware of how intimate the process was until we toured those wineries. 

One of the view we enjoyed while tasting some delicious wine.

One of the view we enjoyed while tasting some delicious wine.

Out of the 9 pieces I had completed, my husband and I had only named two. That's right, I let my husband help name my work! When we first got married I was preparing for a solo show that shared my journey from one name to another ( EAS, my maiden name, to EAW). We were newlyweds and he was a newbie to art as well. Getting ready for a show takes a lot of time, so in an attempt to invite him into my process, I asked if he would like to help me name my finished pieces. Naming is an important part of my process. I use it as one more layer of information for the viewer. I like to make it autobiographical, which means the name correlates with what was going on with my life when I made the piece. We also take into account what feelings/words the painting evokes when looking at it.

Therefore opening the naming process up to many people (on my birthday) was a....

STRETCH

beyond my comfort zone.

 

For the party, we turned our living room, dining room, and kitchen into a gallery . All family photos and non-EAW art were removed to make room for the nine pieces. We had quite the spread of fancy snacks to pair with some wines.

Our guests also brought their favorite bottle of wine to share. As people trickled in, we directed them to read our posted directions for the night, printed on bright yellow card stock. The main event was NAMING the artwork. There was also an option for the viewers to give their first impression using just one word, voting for the favorite piece, and a blind contour contest. The winner of the blind contour contest would get their drawing incorporated into my next painting.

To submit a name idea, our guests simply wrote the name on a post it note and stuck it beside the piece. We had a set time to read all the submissions aloud and then I picked the name on the spot. That felt a bit crazy. I hadn't fully decided beforehand, so it really came down to what struck me the most in the moment. I usually don't like to be put on the spot, but it was a fun and relaxed atmosphere. I even verbally processed through the decisions a bit, letting our friends know some of the other names that were in the running. Out of the 7 pieces that had name submissions, we chose 4 definite names and 3 tentative. In the future, I would like to be able to get this work into a gallery type setting and we would like the gallery patrons to also vote for the best name based on birthday submissions. I’m still considering how to make this happen. The name submissions were anonymous at the party, but it turned out that both paintings with blind contours of guns were named by soldiers. The others, interestingly, were not.

Urban Sniper Oil on Canvas 1'x6'

Urban Sniper Oil on Canvas 1'x6'

It is April now and I am happy to announce that I have finished the birthday contest piece (as promised). But I could not pick just ONE. There were so many inspiring blind contours. As I began to choose, I realized that the ones I was most drawn to belonged to the soldiers. So my newest piece, yet to be named, has 4 different blind contours from 4 soldiers. 

Name TBD. Oil on canvas 2'x4'

Name TBD. Oil on canvas 2'x4'

At the party, #7 (Ballistic Neon) won first place for most people's favorite, with #2 (Upside of Manic) a close second. I was pleasantly surprised that even the color scheme (possibly being seen as less manly with the pinkish purple) did not deter their votes. When I painted "Ballistic Neon", I realized how ironic it was to make something so dangerous into something beautiful. It was a blend of warrior and my aesthetics. It reminds me of my marriage. A soldier and an artist. I had already been interested in doing more pieces in this style and the popular votes just reinforced my idea. The seed of the "Deployment piece" began to grow as my husband and I reflected on all that transpired that night and as we heard consistent rave reviews when we showed others my new work.       

#7 "Ballistic Neon" 2, 6"x72"

#7 "Ballistic Neon" 2, 6"x72"

#2 Up Side of Manic Oil and Cold Wax on Panel 30"x30"

#2 Up Side of Manic Oil and Cold Wax on Panel 30"x30"

This party was pivotal in how I faced 2016. It was the first time since becoming a mom that I did more than dream about what I wanted to do next with my art. I started researching. I imagined this pitch, with the gallery patrons finishing the job we started that night, by naming the pieces. I remembered a suggestion (to enter ArtPrize) that was given in early 2014. I looked into it. As I researched, it became clear what action to take. I figured out the cost of the piece I was envisioning and then wrote a proposal in order to get a grant or private investor. Before I completed the proposal, there was a potential investor. The funds came in less than a week.

This is exciting! This is bigger than me and my name being known. I am creating this because I am inspired. I am creating this because I think the concept of connection during and after deployment needs to be talked about. I am passionate about helping families get the extra support they need because of these separations.

The Rick Herrema Foundation (RHF) is a non profit named after a soldier that paid the ultimate price, giving his life for freedom in Iraq in April of 2006. “When Rick claimed you as a friend, he was your friend for life; and for the 27 years Rick lived he never stopped serving others.”  His name will not be forgotten. His life mattered. And RHF honors his name by making a difference in the lives of families who live through these deployments time and time again. That's why I have decided that all profits, whether prize money or the eventual sale of the "Deployment Piece" will be donated to RHF. This foundation has already seen me through one deployment lending continued support as I visited their community gardens every week to water and pick. My life has been impacted. I have made new friends. That (guilt free and kid-free) California trip I mentioned earlier was made possible with the help of special people I met there.   If you, like me, are looking to make a difference in the lives of those who are still fighting for your freedom, and their families, then RHF is the place to donate. Or volunteer your time.  Art matters to me. Names matter. Relationships matter. How we spend our lives matters. I'm finding new ways to use my art, and even my process, to make a difference. And you can too. This is a way to say thanks. This foundation provides a way to help those in the fight to keep their dignity as well as a place to connect and reconnect with their loved ones.  I invite you to check it out.  www.RHFnow.org