I always thought it was interesting the way other cultures remembered their ancestors. It seemed like such a foreign concept to me. I saw it in movies and documentaries. I just dismissed my forebears and thought mine was the only generation that mattered.

Now I see that I am just a link in the chain.

My ancestors were winners. They were successful in passing on their genes to me.

Now I am trying to piece the family together.

I was fortunate to inherit many old photographs, the study of which raised more questions, and each small answer now feels like a victory. It’s a puzzle to understand them from the clues left behind.

By reconstructing my family tree, I see that I am part of something bigger than I realized. Throngs of people contributed to me. I can look into the mirror and see them looking back through the centuries… through my eyes.

I remember the day I stood in a cemetery with my grandmother. She took me from grave to grave saying “This is my mother… this is my grandmother.”

It was peaceful, standing with her in the dappled sunlight. I remember it as a shimmering day, the way I remember all those New England vacation days.

I want to go back there again, to the final resting place of those who came before me. I wasn’t ready to appreciate them yet.

Now I’m much closer to the end of my life. My grandmother and my mother have passed over to join the army of predecessors who are no longer here. I want to know them, and to honor them.

I find artist’s statements and resumes, introductions in general, off putting. They tend to be either boring or snooty. A list of past jobs doesn’t really tell me anything about you. Accomplishments don’t tell me what you were like when you did them.

If we are introducing ourselves, of course we want to put our best foot forward… we want to present the best version of ourselves that we can.

I like to say I am an artist and writer. These are things I do, and things I am passionate about. They are a process rather than a laurel, and then if you ask, I can show you or tell you what I’ve accomplished.

I prefer to meet someone by my bonfire pit, and then discover their talents along the way.

I still have to write artist’s statements. Mine don’t usually include where I studied or where I am employed. I am happy to share this information.

You don’t need a diploma or degree to be interesting and relevant. Not everyone is defined by their job. Not everyone needs a job at all. You’re valid either way.

I believe that creativity comes naturally to people. Acting on that creativity does not. That’s why not everyone is an artist. I think you have to be willing to do things poorly so that you can learn to do it well. You have to be willing to be misunderstood. Expressing your creativity through art is a skill that has to be developed, or at least embraced. This goes way beyond painting. Every failed attempt is a lesson. When you learn another way not to do something, you’re one step closer to finding your right way.

I tend to be very critical of the me I was in the past. Thirty years ago. Forty years ago. I see my old self as closed minded, insecure and uninteresting.

My brother suggested that I forgive my former self and learn to accept him for what he was and the conditions that he was in.

Yes, my mind has opened some, but it can still open further. I heard a warning years ago “We must keep an open mind, but not so open that our brains fall out.”

I want my mind to open that far, and discover that it’s attached. Keeping your mind closed for fear of losing something tells me that your mind is made up and you’re not willing to learn or adapt.

I want to expose myself to things I may have never considered before. And I don’t want to stop there. I want to keep pushing against those doorstops and sticky hinges. I don’t want to have my mind made up. I don’t want all the answers. The things that ring true for me will stick until they don’t. They’re refrigerator magnets. Thoughts can be updated or replaced.

I don’t believe everything I hear.

What if you held so tightly to Bronze Age ideas that you closed your mind to modern science?

I’m not really sure what mainstream society is. Some people might like to think that white American sensibility is mainstream. Maybe the most commercial (whatever sells the most) is mainstream. If you can buy it on a clearance table at the mall or hang it on any hotel room wall.

It’s hard for me to imagine that appealing to anyone. I think a lot of people find it acceptable. I dont want my art to be acceptable.

The mainstream I’m interested in is my own stream of consciousness.

I’m not trying to be unique, I’m trying to be authentic.

I believe that if I can tell a story that truly means something to me, it will resonate with viewers. That stream runs through all of us, and has been running through many generations before flowing through me.

Lately I’ve been looking at old photographs that I brought home from my parents’ shed last summer. The first album I picked up contained pictures of my great great grandparents, and may have been glued to the fragile black pages by my great great grandmother a hundred years ago. I think it was my great grandmother who assembled it, because there are many more pictures of that generation.

In a stack of six albums, there are pictures of my grandparents as young teenagers and pictures of my father as a little child. My parents’ wedding, and even pictures of me.

Turning the pages led from my great great grandfather to me.

We’re not that different. They took pictures of their cars, their houses and the pumpkins from their gardens. Just like me.

I wish I could talk to them. I wish they could have known that I would stare into the image of their eyes looking for a similarity. A family resemblance.

And then I remember that I am here because of them. Their DNA is in me, and I can see them in my mirror.

(My father’s mother’s parents)

Being creative is not unique, but what we do with it can be unique. I believe we are all creative, it’s just that we are not all confident.

We need to learn how to use the tools that we possess. The most important way to learn to draw is by drawing. The best way to develop confidence, I believe, is by taking risks. When we step outside of our comfort zone, our circle expands to include that new thing. Unfamiliar experiences can be intimidating! We tend to stick with what is comfortable.

Learning a new skill is usually frustrating at first. We don’t know what we are doing yet. Progress is slow in the beginning. That’s because we’re rewiring a part of our brain, not simply learning a language, building a wall or learning to throw pots. It gets easier with practice.

To get into a creative state of mind, I have to pick up a pen or paintbrush. You can’t steer a parked car, and you can’t develop eye-hand coordination without using your eye and hand.

To be truly creative… to create something that illustrates your own personal story, I think it needs to come from within you. It’s less creative to look to others for your motivation.

We are all inspired by what we see, whether that is a natural landscape or a piece of art made by someone else. When something inspires us, it gets absorbed into, and becomes part of us. If it comes back out, or influences what comes out again, it will have mixed with what was in there, and appear with our distinct flavor.

Our eye is the scanner. Our brain is the hard drive. Our memories are the database. Our imagination is the software to put it all together. Our hand is the printer.

My creative process benefits me in many ways. It helps me to process my life, and express it back out again. It is something that I enjoy, and something that helps to ease financial pressure.

My creative goal is to do exactly what I am doing now. It focuses my mind to make sense of my experiences.

I gauge the success of any piece by the lesson or amount of joy it brings me.