Why did this complete stranger share such a painful part of his life with me?
A young man approached me as I stood beside my paintings last Sunday. It was a beautiful afternoon at the NewBo Arts Festival in Cedar Rapids, Iowa, and I was answering questions from visitors about my work. He was interested in two of my pieces: An oil painting called ‘The Drama of Sunset’, and an acrylic portrait of my daughter entitled ‘Empire State Betsy’. Both very different from one another.
I asked him what he liked about the paintings. I was not expecting the answer he gave.
“Empire State Betsy” 2019. Acrylic on canvas. 24 in. x 30 in.
“Empire State Betsy” (above) and “The Drama of Sunset” (below) with daughter Betsy, Sept 1, 2019.
The Drama of Sunset. 2019. Oil on canvas. 24 in. x 30 in.
The young man gave me a bit of his history: He was in the military, and had been all around the world. He said that he had been stationed overseas, and during one for his deployments, his wife of seven years had cheated on him. “What’s worse,” he said, “it was with another member of my family.” This event not only destroyed his marriage, but it tore his entire family apart.
I was surprised how open and vulnerable he was with me.
Why this young man chose to share this incredibly painful part of his life with me, a complete stranger, I do not know. Perhaps because he felt safe. It is the nature of an artist to express what they feel. And I suppose it takes a certain level of confidence or bravery to put your innermost thoughts and feelings on display. I told him how sorry I was, and that he had survived a terrible experience.
This young man was a survivor, but he was still affected by this unbearable pain. I shook his hand and introduced myself. He said, “My name is Blake. Good to meet you.” He shared that the painting of my daughter gazing up at the Empire State building reminded him of New York, and happier times perhaps.
He was unable to articulate what he liked about the sunset painting, but I believe it brought him some peace and tranquility, as if he had weathered the storm. Looking at these paintings made him feel better.
This is not the first time this has happened. I was painting at Backbone State Park several years ago, and a man came up and shared that his wife had been an artist before she died, and I was painting the very same scene she once had. One of my daughter’s high school friends admitted that she cried when she saw my painting ‘One Last Walk Together’ at the Iowa State Fair, because she knew the backstory. I’m glad that people feel something when they see my work, (though I’m beginning to think I need to concentrate on painting happier subject matter).
Naturally, the healing works in reverse as well. Art therapy has been around since the 1940s. Years ago, after my wife Theresa suffered a miscarriage at 19 weeks, I painted a portrait of her, entitled ‘Lament for Timothy’. It was a big painting—at 50” by 50” it was one of the largest canvases I have ever completed. I wanted the painting to be monumental, to match the enormity of the pain we were feeling.
“Lament for Timothy” 1997. Acrylic on canvas. 50 in. x 50 in.
I did not realize it at the time, but painting my wife was my own form of therapy. It helped me get through a very difficult time. And it’s a beautiful painting. Looking at it today reminds me not of the pain we suffered, or the loss, but of strength and resiliency. Beauty can indeed come from tragedy, if we are wise and our hearts are open enough to find it. Our beautiful daughter Betsy was born 4 years after our tragic loss. There is more to this story as well—I could write a book just about this one painting, and perhaps one day, I will.
Hedy Lamarr, the actress and inventor, once said, “A good painting to me has always been like a friend. It keeps me company, comforts and inspires.” Coming from a woman who pioneered the technology that would one day become today's WiFi, GPS, and Bluetooth communication systems, I believe Hedy knew what she was talking about.
Art has the power to do many things. It can educate, illuminate and decorate. Art sheds light on the dark path ahead, or shows you where you’ve been. It can make you laugh, make you angry or bring you joy. Art can even define a culture and the times in which people live. But on this one particular day in September, I was reminded once again that Art has the incredible ability to heal.