Believe it or not, I had quite a challenge with
"Preconceptions". I felt compelled to tell the story and issue the
challenge but I had no earthly idea how to represent the subject in fabric.
First to mind was perspective...I considered doing something a la M.C. Escher
but quickly realized that was far beyond my current capabilities. I considered
the process of preconceptions: formulating an idea, holding and building upon
it and ultimately confronting its accuracy. My crystal ball doesn't work too
well and consequently my preconceptions usually result in a stunning moment of enlightenment.
It's not always pretty, as evidenced by the story that was the genesis of this
challenge. But none of that helped me with my art piece.
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| Off we go to puppy school |
The more I thought about Preconceptions, the more frustrated
and stressed I became. I read the other Viewpoints 9 artists' reactions and felt
a modicum of relief, knowing it was challenging us all, but it was little
consolation because I felt guilty and wondered if, somehow, I had pushed too
far. Then again, isn't that the artist's journey?
My inspiration finally came (VERY late) from a completely bizarre
source: Goofy, the Disney Character. There is no accurate way to trace the
fractals of my thoughts, but it led me to my dog: a Rottweiler. I have never
loved an animal the way I love this dog; she is, for all intents and purposes,
my daughter. But it wasn't always that way, not even close.
I grew up with cats and was completely ignorant of different
breeds of dogs and their reputations. When I met my husband he had just rescued
a Rottweiler that was the most docile, sweet, inert animal that we affectionately
nicknamed "Butterstick" because she was fat and laid around all day.
A year after she died, we brought home another Rottweiler "Pink Girl"
from a breeder and named her Ziva. I wanted "Purple Girl" because I'd
watched and read Cesar Millan (the "Dog Whisperer") and he advised
getting a medium energy dog. My husband insisted on the pick of the litter, a
high energy, stubborn, know-it-all puppy.
Shortly after coming home, Ziva challenged me. And
challenged me, and challenged me. I believed she was a bad seed, the perfect
example of why Rotties have a bad reputation. I was petrified she would act out
against someone, including me. Every story I'd heard about Rottweilers (or
German Shepherds, or Dobermans or any other maligned dog) came to mind. IRRESPECTIVE
of the fact that I had owned and loved another Rottweiler, I had a
preconception that Ziva was not the dog for us.
We went to training and I handled Ziva exclusively. We read
books, consulted experts, learned all we could. In the process, I discovered a
hilarious and accurate book called "Surviving Your Dog's Adolescence"
by Carol Lea Benjamin. Who knew?
I was dealing with a teenager!! Almost miraculously, on Ziva's first birthday,
she suddenly understood and obeyed everything she had resisted before. Things I
swore she never absorbed had imprinted on her like a baby duckling imprints on
their mother. To this day, if I say "Ready?" to my husband, Ziva
immediately sits beside me and looks in my face - just like we learned in puppy
school and just like she ignored the entire time.
The combination of
my preconceptions, my early struggles and my subsequent victories, inspired me
to create this piece. I still haven't determined what to name it; it
encapsulates so much for me. But here is Ziva: docile, lover-girl that she has
become, lounging on her bed and enjoying a dog's life. And, as my husband was quick
to remind me, Cesar Millan had another saying: "You don't always get the
dog you want, you get the dog you need."
Now I have both.
This wholecloth
piece is handpainted with India Inks, Inktense pencils and a lot of love.
I came to art late in life after years of being convinced by
teachers and siblings that I lacked talent. A dear friend Cindy was the first
to say otherwise. After admiring one of her paintings, Cindy told me it was
easy, that I could paint too. I assured her I had no talent for the visual
arts. Determined to prove me wrong and encourage me, she took me to a local art
store, told me what to buy and took me home for an impromptu watercolor lesson. 
The combination of
my preconceptions, my early struggles and my subsequent victories, inspired me
to create this piece. I still haven't determined what to name it; it
encapsulates so much for me. But here is Ziva: docile, lover-girl that she has
become, lounging on her bed and enjoying a dog's life. And, as my husband was quick
to remind me, Cesar Millan had another saying: "You don't always get the
dog you want, you get the dog you need." 