Photo of frozen pizza crust package by (c) Adair Heitmann
“The object of art is not to make salable pictures. It is to save yourself . . . The thing of course, is to make yourself alive. Most people remain all their lives in a stupor. The point of being an artist is that you may live.” – Sherwood Anderson
Creativity and wellness message for today: Just create — music, dance, song, stories, sculpture, written word, oral word, photography, printmaking, paintings, big, small, plays, public art or private art — just do it in order to feel alive.
Sherwood Anderson (September 13, 1876 – March 8, 1941) was an American novelist and short story writer, known for subjective and self-revealing works. (Disclaimer: I haven’t read his works but I agree with what he said in the above quote about the object of art.)
Like Robert Fulghum’s best-selling book, All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarden, my post today celebrates my alma mater and how the skills I learned in college continue to be keys to my career successes today.
After graduating with a BFA, cum laude from Syracuse University, little did I know that my fine art major and photograhy minor would solidly prepare me for a world of corporate, entrepreneurial, literary, and yes, artistic, and creative accomplishments. Fresh out of art school I landed a job with The Central New Yorker in Syracuse, NY. It was a printing press and magazine publisher. I didn’t know a pica rule from a proportion scale. But, in college, I mastered hand/eye coordination, I already had a good brain, and my honed observation skills coupled with my trained manual dexterity made me a fast learner in the field of graphic design.
That job led to others in graphic design. Again, I didn’t have the exact skills (yet) that The C.R. Gibson Company in Norwalk, CT sought. Yet my fine art portfolio (I was a professional exhibiting artist by then), plus my previous work as a designer for a printing company got my foot in the door as a freelance artist. Again, I didn’t know a descender from an ascender, when I was hired to hand-letter (each press type letter one at a time) large signage for photo shoots of their gift products for its catalog. Again, my art school skills of observation, composition, balance, inventive ideas, color choice, and picking up new technical skills rapidly, prompted the company to hire me full-time.
From there, Xerox Learning Systems in Stamford, CT recruited me. I went from designing cute note cards and photo albums of colorful little bunnies and froggies to designing for corporations preparing their sales, marketing, and interpersonal management skills programs printed materials. At this publishing company I worked with mainframe computers, typesetting and designing for publication. Had I leaned any of my new skills at art school? Directly no. Had I learned how to be a quick start, be open to new ideas, and follow directions, yes.
Decision Resources in Westport, CT recruited me from XLS and I joined the world of entrepreneurial technology. As Manager of Graphic Design, I worked with their software platforms — ChartMaster, SignMaster, DiagramMaster, and MapMaster. My department was on the team that led to the company’s profitable acquisition by AshtonTate who was acquired by Lotus who was acquired by Adobe who was acquired by IBM. Yes, I actually worked with the original company who invented what was later known as Desktop Publishing, no joke. Did I learn how to do that in art school? No. Did I learned how to seize opportunities, yes. How to be open to new ideas, yes. How to hold myself to a high level of professionalism, yes.
I don’t want to run on and on with my professional history here, but I will share one more thing. When I worked for a library and cultural arts organization, over a ten-year period, twice I led the design of a new website for the institution. What I learned in art school and especially being a printmaking major, was how to chunk down huge projects into specific time-line details. At the beginning of each semester my lithography professor, Bruce Manwaring, told his students we had to produce six editions by the end of the semester. He then taught us the technical skills of drawing with oil-based materials and how to carry the 100 pound slabs of Bavarian limestone around the studio. I learned how to work in opposites and we were on our own to sink or swim. He didn’t instruct us on what to draw or paint, that was up to us.
Professor Don Cortese did the same thing in his etching class. We had to create and produce six editions, learn technically how to apply gum arabic to our etched zinc plates then submerge them in nitric acid baths. I used heavy ink rollers to ink my matrix, and maneuvering a manual, huge, printing press, I created images as exact to each other as humanly possible. In art school, I learned how to manage time and solve problems. I learned how to follow a specific set of rules for an agreed upon outcome, prioritize, and stay motivated. I learned how to be a Project Manager.
My fine art careers are rewarding and diverse. My writing and storytelling work ignites me because it’s creative. I’m familiar with learning new skills and I love a metaphorical blank canvas. I know how to create something out of nothing.
I’m now an educator as a Poet-in-Residence in public schools and I teach creative writing in universities. I perform true personal narrative stories live and online. I’m a story artist. I take my hat off to Syracuse University and the College of Visual and Performing Arts. As an educational institution, you may never know how far reaching your dedication to the arts is. Today, this fine arts major thanks you.
Here I am before I leave for my last teaching day of 2023.
Creativity and wellness message for today: Use what you have learned and carry the light forward.
Last April I was asked by the summer worship committee at the Unitarian Universalist Congregation in Westport, CT to create an inspiring true story to be presented live at a late August service. I jumped at the invitation and added it to my list of upcoming writing and storytelling deadlines.
A little voice inside me kept nudging me to create it sooner than later. “Why?” I would ask myself. I had other more pressing deadlines. I resisted while the voice persisted. Finally I gave in and wrote my homily “Clearance for Takeoff” early. Then I continued meeting my other deadlines.
Early on a Sunday morning in July I receive an email from the worship associate asking if I could please call her ASAP.
“What’s up?” I asked. It turns out some speakers had to cancel and others were wanting to join the summer lineup. “Would it be possible for you to present your homily on July 23?” One month before it was supposed to be performed.
Because I listened to my inner voice and acted on my intuition, I could graciously and confidently say, “Yes, I can.” You can watch the video “Clearance for Takeoff” here. It’s about a 44-year-old woman who discovers she is pregnant for the first time in her life. This homily is for everyone including those who may have considered fathering an idea, mothering a business, or working on being human.
Creativity and wellness message for today: Trust your little voice inside you and act on it, even if you don’t know yet why.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. This morning due to a temporary construction dumpster blocking spaces, I pulled into a different parking area at my chiropractor’s office. My eyes immediately light on this purple beauty. Even if it means I may be slightly delayed for my appointment, I have to honor its presence. It visually sang out to me.
Some people may call this a weed others may call it a rhapsody in color and form. To me, it’s nature’s poetry.
Author Elizabeth Acevedo says, “Poetry is the first language I was thinking in — it’s what I fall back on. I have to get really close to the bone of what I’m going through. A poem doesn’t let me lie to myself.”
I agree. When I write poetry, the process itself, distills and carves out the most important parts.
Creativity and wellness message for today: Let yourself be drawn to the surprise of poetry . . . in nature or in action.
“And above all, watch with glittering eyes the whole world around you because the greatest secrets are always hidden in the most unlikely places. Those who don’t believe in magic will never find it.” – Roald Dahl
Creativity and wellness message for today: Surrender to delight.
There’s a scene in the 1975 movie “Monty Python and the Holy Grail” about being not dead yet. In the grim comedy, a dead man pretends to be alive in order to avoid “the cart.” I’m reminded of that today when I look at my Beach Rose in our side yard. What appears to be a dead section of the Rosa Rugosa is actually the top part of the plant that is protecting the process of re-birth and new growth, underneath.
The dead-looking upper part hides the new growth, hidden unless I bend down, and duck my head under the stems to look, near the brown soil, way down at the base of the scrubby shrub. The dead part actually keeps the new baby shoots safe.
Why can’t us human beings understand this process of death and re-birth better? In our culture of perfectionism, we can learn from the Beach Rose. I’m inspired by this natural process to let the world see my imperfections, in all their glory. I know some part(s) of me have to die in order for me to continue to grow and sprout new growth. I’m okay with that.
Not only are the reddish purple blossoms exceptionally fragrant, they are part of a pollinator pathway. Bees love the yellow stamens, buzzing deep inside and wiggling their bodies all around, before they fly on to the plant they will fertilize. The Beach Rose’s life cycle is part of Nature’s life cycle.
Creativity and wellness message for today: Let’s accept imperfections in ourselves and others. Let’s rejoice in new growth!
Quiet joy fills me Sustained creative writing Bears fruit with awards
15 years ago, I taught an on-going writing workshop at a public library for six years. The group met twice a month, year-round. It consisted of steady, dedicated writers, all of us developing our craft. I also co-wrote a Fairfield Writers Blog. I used to sign off with my signature of “Keep on writing,” when I emailed my group or posted a motivational blog, filled with practical information.
That steadiness pays off. It sounds simple, “Keep on writing,” but for me, it really works. Writing helps me process my life. It helps me find grace where there was once turmoil, it provides an outlet for my active mind, and when needed, it soothes my aching heart.
I’m a nature enthusiast and writing provides an opportunity for exploring Mother Nature and Human Nature in deeply magical ways. In sharing my writing in essays, books, poems, storytelling, and speeches, I discover my work inspires others.
I’m happy to announce I won four awards from the 2022 Connecticut Press Club Professional Communications Contest! First Place: Personal Essay – “Overcoming Fear With Help from the Whales” published in the book Animals: Personal Encounters With Spirit Animals by Sacred Stories Publishing
Second Place: Speeches – “A.R.T.: Action, Reflection, Transformation” original homily about recovery after loss, presented live at The Unitarian Universalist Congregation in Westport, CT
Third Place: Speeches – “Art Saved My Life: Journey of a Lifetime” PechaKucha-Bridgeport, original personal experience visual storytelling about transformation and reflection presented live the Bijou Theatre in Bridgeport, CT with 20 fast moving images.
Winner: Personal Website – Adair Wilson Heitmann My website introduces the public to my professional work. It promotes me as an artist, writer, teacher of programs and workshops, and as a storyteller. The hero images are my photographs as well as many of the others.
Creativity and wellness message for today: Stay active in your craft. Keep finding your joy and keep putting one foot in front of the other by doing the hard work.
I’m sharing a moment of gratitude for my storytelling community near and far. Storytellers have this way of getting to the heart of the matter and for being an inclusive band of renegades and angels. I am fortunate to have stumbled upon the art and act of visual storytelling — writing, creating visuals, and speaking the spoken word in front of live audiences.
As an artist and writer who specializes in personal narratives, visual storytelling is right up my alley. I appreciate my national storytelling exchange group via Zoom and the drafts they sat through, asked questions about, and provided constructive feedback on. The Bridgeport Art Trail Storytelling Exchange is phenomenal! Our local in-person We Rise Storytelling Collective is fun and risky and embracing. Thank you for encouraging me to tell my authentic stories in front of such an appreciative group! Then there is the national Artists Standing Strong Together that connects and weaves and advances the art of storytelling.
Recently, one of my stories “Art Saved My Life: Journey of a Lifetime” was selected for me to present in front of a live audience in a theatre alongside 12 other visual storytellers and the entire experience rocked my world. There is this vibe and connection between the PechaKucha Night Bridgeport storytellers that cut through any phoniness or pretense. The tellers shared their own true stories on the theme: Journeys: How Did We Get Here? Thank you City Lights Gallery and PechaKucha Night Bridgeport.
You can watch and listen to my 2022 PechaKucha presentation here. Please be advised it has adult content about healing and transformation.
Creativity and wellness message for today: Consider creating and sharing stories in the presence of others, it may just change your life!
Here I am speaking at The Unitarian Church of Westport, CT
Watch out for who you run into at your local gardening center! There I was, minding my own business, choosing colorful potted flowers for my front porch, when I saw a friend browsing the outdoor aisles. We got to talking and catching up. She follows me on social media and asked about my recent art exhibitions and writing projects. Gab, gab, share, share, it was a lovely day to be outside and even lovelier to be chatting with her.
We say goodbye and a few weeks later, I’m asked if I would be interested in leading a lay-led summer service at The Unitarian Church in Westport, CT. Hmmmmmmmmmmmm. What might be of value to the folks in the pews? I asked my friend (who was the Worship Associate) and she answered, “Talk about your art.” Hmmmmmmmmmm. Yes, I could talk about that until the cows come home, but is that really of value to the people in the seats?
Then I said, “I could speak about losing fifty years of my original fine art in a silent basement flood right before I was planning a retrospective.” She leaned in. I immediately followed my intuition and promptly said, “I could title my homily, “A.R.T: Action, Reflection, Transformation.” Ding, ding, ding, she thought it a great idea.
While it was a challenge writing my personal narrative homily with a message, I got as much out of it as the congregants. Being asked to speak was validation of me and my worthiness. Having my idea liked made me feel recognized. Hearing, seeing, and feeling the responses from the people in the pews and from them afterwards opened my heart.
Watch a video of my homily below. It starts at 13:26.
Adair Wilson Heitmann's Blog 