May 17th, 5:45 p.m.
I arrived at the Honors Convocation right as people had begun gathering around the inner atrium to socialize and sip on punch. Here I come in my Steven Tyler striped pants and converse; the hubby, my dad, and 3 of my 4 children in tow. (that's right you stinker, you missed something big!) I had no idea what an Honors Convocation was, but I knew I should be there as it involved some pretty important people on campus; and potentially...an award.
approx. 6:15 p.m.
The banquet begins and my curiosity has grown to an anxious feeling, just knowing I truly am about to receive an award has my stomach spinning with anticipation. As an artist, its so important to have people know your name, receiving the book award for The Arts, Music & Theater departments is a pretty good way to do that. The 3 photography books I received with my award announcement inside, will also now be in our campus library, my name within the front cover. Not to mention the fact that this award now immortalizes my time spent at OSU Mansfield: a time of true personal growth, a time of true artistic growth.
approx 6:30 p.m.
Kate & I take the stage. I follow her to the podium feeling as if my mind has completely disconnected itself from my body. As Kate begins her speech, I hear the words flowing from her beaming face and the reality of what's really happening hits me...this is really happening. This strong, intelligent, ambitious, phenomenal woman who had inspired me with her speech on my very first day of classes...was now standing before me...honoring me! Don't get me wrong, the prestige of the award is amazing! But having your mentor validate not just your accomplishments as an artist but also as a person, is far beyond any measure of prestige.
Me & Kate Shannon, Associate Professor OSU Mansfield |
The kids are in bed, the excitement has eased down, a glass of wine set next to the computer and I'm killing time; worrying over my 72 year old father who is only an hour into his two and half hour drive home. Shawn was in charge of the camera all night so I thought I'd upload the images and sort through them. As I begin picking out the blurred, dark and bizarre...too funny....I stop being a critical photographer and start looking at the actual faces and the moments I'm so glad he'd captured.
A long time ago, I stood up and made the choice to become a Mom. To me that meant a complete dedication to them, and that's what I did. I wish I knew then what I know now. I've held onto this dream for so many years I've lost count, 7th grade art class was when I knew for certain that I had to do art. These captured moments were a reflection of that dream. I thought back over the years and how many times I had reminded myself to never let go, never give up. I worked my art like most domestic engineers, by throwing myself into random projects to the point you have to give them away as gifts; then being forced to domesticate your art by calling it a craft so people actually want it as a gift!
As I saw myself in the images, I realized that this was way bigger than an award...it was in honor of my dream, in honor of my dedication and vision, a complete validation that my dream is worth having. The moment of awareness is too much for words. As the tears began to flow I thought back to my first quarter women's studies class and felt an awesome sense of power. I never realized my own strength, or the power of my own passion until that moment. Into the silence of my home I shouted out to all of the women who had forged ahead before me, carving the path...."I fucking did it! I'm fucking doing it!" Because I too am now a part of the women's movement, or should I say I am now able to say I can walk the walk and be an example for other strong women to continue to believe in the importance their own dreams, in their own voices.
May 18th, 12:30 a.m.
The text arrives from my dad...he's home safe and I'm back in the reality of the silence of my family room. I need to get to bed: work in the gallery 10-6, President Gee at 3:30 in the gallery to talk art, 4:30-6 work the gallery as entertainment for the big Bow Tie reception. A schedule, a plan...don't think about the magnitude of the occasion...just be yourself.
9:45 a.m.
Sitting in the writing lab researching a documentary titled "Tapestries of Hope"...a documentary about the violence against women & girls in Zimbabwe. My blood begins to boil every time I even begin to think of this issue and as I peruse the available information, I feel my strong feminist spirit come alive. As my mind begins to spin with the possibilities of getting involved, getting my university involved, I see Kate heading to the gallery and immediately feel the need to share this passion with her.
Kate on the other hand has a task at hand, she realizes the gravity of the day while I ramble obliviously on about the need for us to get involved with this program. The importance of making people aware of the inhumanity occurring across the ocean...once again detaching myself from the reality of my own situation.
12:00 p.m.
A free luncheon to meet President Gee, Kate covers the gallery for an hour so that I can go check things out. Never having even seen this man in person, I felt an overwhelming need to go catch a peek of the Buckeye icon all this hype was about. Outside the student union, where the luncheon was being held; I had bumped into Harry, a fellow classmate I've grown to respect, shooting a film with the Buckeye Ambassadors. Within this group, a young woman whose connection to me is a painful time for both of us. We often bump into each other on campus, as she is also driven to go beyond and be recognized, so we sort of run in some of the same circles.
Each time I see her, there is this look of anxiety in her eyes that I can feel in my stomach. Each time, I see her a bit differently, more as a young woman who has this weight she should not have, and I am the cause of it. So I spoke to her, kindly. Realizing how easy it was to see how she has grown and that she too wanted to let go of that pain...I began to see her for the girl I knew when we were all a family, and the beauty she is capable of. We shared in our mistakes and both suffered for it....but she has something there and she's figuring it all out...its better I be a positive example of moving beyond our regrets, making amends with our mistakes and being able to enjoy and encourage each others success. So I extended that branch, and discovered I had also set myself free.
Feeling pretty content with myself, I sat down with some friends to nibble wings and wait for President Gee's appearance. When he entered the room there was a force of exhilaration through out the crowd. Such a small figure, yet such a dominant presence, very much like myself. He was loved by everyone, and his actions were explanation enough. I sat back and watched him interact with the room, so personable, so real. The voice in my head, "Alright Susie, this is a man you can be yourself with." And rather than battle the masses to shake his hand, I walked back to the gallery to wait my turn in great anticipation.
3:15 p.m.
John, Kate and myself all stand in the gallery awaiting the arrival of a few of my classmates who have also been invited to meet with President Gee for this opportunity to discuss art. Word comes in that Gee is running a bit behind schedule, you can feel the buzz of electricity in the room at the mere mention of his arrival. As the crowd around me jitters with nervous energy I go within my own head. Calming myself, reminding myself that this infamous man is just that...a man....be yourself...be yourself...be yourself...you've earned this, you deserve this...he's just a man.
There he is, President Gee. I patiently wait my chance to interact. He speaks to other artists first as we approach their work in the gallery. As we move deeper within the gallery I notice he has gravitated towards a large avocado sculpture I had in the show. As he walked around my piece, displayed on the floor as a sliced in half replica of an avocado he says, "I have just the place for this in my home." Without any motive, I said, "Really, well you can have it." There is no way I could have known where that simple gesture would take me. With great pleasure he hugged and thanked me, also inviting me to bring my piece to him and view his personal art collection which just happens to contain a Picasso!
California Dreamin' the piece I gave to President Gee directly upon its completion. |
Completely blew me away that I would be able to see in person this man's home and art collection, it wasn't until later that I realized the importance of that one act of kindness. My work is now part of that very collection! I have been invited to the home of the most powerful man on campus, and the only thing I did to receive this great honor is to be myself. The act of giving that to him was completely off the top of my head. As an artist I was just grateful to have my work acknowledged, the ramifications of my actions have exceeded any expectations I could have conjured in my own head.
Word spread quickly throughout the crowd of reception attendee's. The gallery, the crowd, became a buzz of energy as the news circulated about this avocado that was given to President Gee. My name, Susan Komer, became the talk of the evening; I was truly in my element, I truly am an artist.
All of these events occurred within a 24 hour time span. I have worked hard, I have been fully committed to my goal of becoming a professional artist for more than half of my lifetime. I think this story goes to show how quickly things can change; how quickly, when we least expect it, we truly are capable of making our dreams come true.
Definitely wonderful and life changing!
ReplyDeleteA very exciting 24 hours indeed! Congrats!
ReplyDeleteWow, what a couple of days you had. Are you still spinning, floating somewhere, or has most of you come down? Likely a part of you will always stay there, in that moment, remembering, remembering why you do this. This is why. I'm so proud of you. Thanks for sharing. You not only share your joy, you share your pain too. That says something.
ReplyDeleteI think you're right about a part me always floating in the high of the day....each time I think of it a wave of emotion comes over me. Someone once told me that I'll feel like a real artist when I sell a piece...let me tell ya...I gave the piece away, but knowing it's in an actual collection of artwork sure makes me feel like I have the right to claim that title:)
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